ABT—Dark the Soul, Bright the Stars

Julie Kent & Marcelo Gomes in Othello. Photo: Gene Schiavone

We love ballet because it can defy mortality. The grace and ease with which the pros do the most difficult steps refutes gravity and the way most of us clump along, meat bags with a few muscles and bones. On the other hand, many of the full-length ballets in ABT's current Met Opera House season underscore the frailties and downfalls of being all too human.

Lar Lubovitch's Othello is revived every so often in part to showcase a powerful male dancer at the peak of his powers, and ABT has no better embodiment than Marcelo Gomes. Although the role was set on Desmond Richardson, it seems built for Gomes. As the curtain rises, simply sitting on his throne, clutching its arms, head bowed, he commands attention. The muscles on his bronze breastplate may not be his, but we don't doubt the power implied (we're also familiar with Gomes' strength).  

Xiomara Reyes, soon galloping into the sunset, in Rodeo. Photo: Gene Schiavone

It never hurts to have a good tale behind a story ballet, and Shakespeare's deeply troubling examination of loyalty and deceit reveals the darkest side of man's nature. James Whiteside made for a believably sinister Iago, slithering and scything his way around the stage's perimeter like an angry shadow. Julie Kent's Desdemona is effectively naive, and Stella Abrera, as Emilia, perfunctorily foreboding. The addition of Bianca (Misty Copeland) and Cassio (Joseph Gorak), who become vehicles for betrayal, flesh out the stage action while clouding the narrative. Still, these two magnetic dancers have some of the best sections of dancing, unchained from the text. The white scarf becomes a searing emblem of love; the more hands that touch it, the more tainted it becomes as a symbol of devotion. 

Agnes De Mille's Rodeo, on the other hand, begins with its lead cowgirl, Xiomara Reyes, longing for the camaraderie of the posse of cowboys, but being ignored until she accedes to at least some feminine conventions. Xiomara Reyes is retiring this season, but her lead performance makes that hard to believe. She's as sassy and tomboyish as ever, in this, one of her best dramatic vehicles. It highlights a buoyant sense of humor that can be buried in formal ballets, albeit where she excels technically. She will be missed in this role. James Whiteside danced the role of the cowboy who moves from buddy to beau, including a lighthearted tap segment.

Isabella Boylston as Giselle. Photo: MIRA

Giselle as well ponders the foibles of the heart, both figuratively and literally. Albrecht falls for, and guilelessly deceives, the frail Giselle, who after death is consigned to join the Wilis (basically, ghosts of unmarried women who taunt men and make them dance to death). Certain ballerinas are born to perform the role of Giselle, and Isabella Boylston is one of them. Her size, her ballon, and flexibility all contribute to a fine characterization. But it is her sublime delicacy that distinguished her rendition in May 23's matinee. When she lifted her leg in an arabesque early in the Act II duet with Alex Hammoudi (Albrecht), the movement was barely perceptible, floating upward steadily, like a feather on the slightest pulse of wind. Battus resembled the beating of a hummingbird's wings. Other dancers—particularly Russians, it seems—milk the drama more, or emphasize athleticism, but Boylston gives a nuanced, quietly magical performance free of histrionics.

Hammoudi, a soloist, is maturing into his princely physique. He is on the way to becoming a much needed leading man of a large size. His long legs only accentuate the height of his grand jetes, and he can finesse the details in traveling steps with beats. It can't hurt to play against the company's finest character dancer, Roman Zhurbin, who succeeded in bringing some empathy to the beleaguered second fiddle, Hilarion. This young cast supplied rewards of a different kind than expected from the company's headliners—a variety of stars populating ABT's galaxy. 

A company is always in transition, but it feels as though ABT is going through more changes than in recent memory, with three principal women retiring (Kent, Herrera, and Reyes), a recuperating David Hallberg out for the season, the oft-cast Polina Semionova injured, and young dancers being groomed for promotions. So while there is Gomes, a fully matured artist in complete command of the repertory, we watch for greatness to emerge from surprising places. 

Justin Peck's Rodeo

Rodeo. Photo: Paul Kolnik

These days, a New York City Ballet premiere by Justin Peck is big news, and Rodeo: Four Dance Episodes (sans the editor's nightmare of diacriticals) certainly adds to his rapidly growing stock of lively, thrilling ballets. Also of interest is the dance's context; it followed Ratmansky's recent Pictures at an Exhibition, and preceded Wheeldon's Mercurial Manoeuvres. There are links and degrees of influence among these guys, who are among the top ballet choreographers in demand.

This new four-section work to Copland's score contains broad themes of energy, weather, and nature. Peck breaks the fourth wall, like Ratmansky often has, most notably in Namouna. In Rodeo, which comprises 15 men and Tiler Peck, some of the men sit on the stage's edge, feet dangling over the orchestra pit, or reach toward the audience like the ham-handed effects in a 3D movie. They break poses and relax midstage as if in rehearsal, lost in thought. It's a device that invites us into their lofty realm, parlayed into a sublime heaven-on-earth by Brandon Stirling Baker's warm-hued lighting that evokes the smell of toast and hot chocolate, and shows us how spacious the Koch stage is.


The dance's sporty mood, set by athletic wear costumes by Reid Bartelme, Harriet Jung, and Peck, begins with the line of men "in the blocks" at the left, who then sprint across the stage. Daniel Ulbricht does what he does, which is spin, leap, and fly. The group of men fracture into small groups, supporting one in suspended or poses, or lifting one like a slow-motion carousel pony. Tiler Peck and Amar Ramasar, in an extended duet, move eloquently, unfurling into striking poses, including a lift in which Peck vamps like a bathing suit model, flaunting her bare legs. Ramasar bends down to pull a cord, like starting a lawn mower, as the percussionist makes a similar noise. Gonzalo Garcia—like Ulbricht, an underutilized principal—is featured in the fourth movement. The group huddles and blossoms opens to reveal a soloist, like unwrapping a present. The eye is constantly fed, and there's plenty left to see in repeated viewings.

Pictures at an Exhibition. Photo: Paul Kolnik

There's a collegiality in Peck's dances that can only be enhanced by his position as a dancer. The new film Ballet 422, by Jody Lee Lipes, focuses on Peck's creation of another NYCB commission, Paz de la Jolla. Free of talking heads, it trails Peck as a dancer—in class, putting on makeup, backstage pre-show; and as a choreographer—in the studio alone with only his iPhone to record his own movement experiments, with Tiler Peck and Ramasar, in meetings with the lighting and costume designers, working at home. It is remarkable how self-possessed and focused he is for a 25-year-old (it was largely shot three years ago). Seeing the premiere of Rodeo just after watching Ballet 422 only multiplies the amount of respect I have for this young artist, who has already contributed some major ballets to the company's rich holdings.

New to roles—Pictures: Georgina Pascoguin (Sara Mearns' role), extraordinarily dramatic and risk-taking; wonderful to see this veteran soloist in featured roles which show her full dancing potential (we already know she's a fantastic dramatic artist). Sterling Hyltin (Wendy Whelan's role) conveys a similar clarity and deftness to Whelan, but has yet to gain the depth that may simply come with experience. Mercurial—the apprentice Preston Chambliss, with endless legs and ballon, a gifted young dancer in a state of emergence. Russell Janzen, a new soloist, partnering Sara Mearns; they are wonderfully proportioned together, and his coolness complements her fire.

Notebook review—ABT's City Center Season

Polina Semionova & Marcelo Gomes in Symphony #9. Photo: Gene Schiavone

In the interest of brevity, trying something new: a notebook-style review of main points, but not all of the connecting words. 

The sublime Herman Cornejo. Photo: Gene Schiavone

Alexei Ratmansky's new Symphony #9 to Shostakovich

• It's terrific.
• Plotless, witty, contemporary
• Broken 4th wall directly engages audience
• Shostakovich music humorous, brazen, with charismatic solo instruments like trombone, clarinet
• Dream A cast: 1) Marcelo Gomes & Polina Semionova, 2) Craig Salstein & Simone Messmer, + Herman Cornejo
• Couple #1 romantic, searching out some unknown thing and finding it = happiness
• Couple #2 funny, playful, nobody plays w/the audience quite like Salstein
• Cornejo a loner, oracle, guiding light; his final whirling pirouettes and collapse are like seeing the center of whatever universe we're peering into. One of the finest performers in ballet today.
• B cast: Roberto Bolle & Veronika Part (waaaay more tragic), Sascha Radetsky & Stella Abrera (less in the moment), + Jared Mathews (would have thought Daniil Simkin was a shoe-in for this role, but Jared basically works)
• Costumes by Keso Dekker wonderfully modern: photographic jersey print tees and cross-back dresses lined with gold; black velvet tights

In sum—Ratmansky's best effort for ABT thus far, finally departing from the romantic notions inherent in the story ballets he's done for the company, as well as the quite dreamy, abstract Seven Sonatas. His work for NYCB has been stronger (Russian Seasons, Concerto DSCH, Namouna)—was there some allegiance to nostalgia with ABT that tethered him?  

Reminder—Symphony #9 returns alongside the other two parts of his trilogy in ABT's spring/summer season.

See you in the spring! Symphony #9. Photo: Gene Schiavone

Rodeo, choreographed by Agnes de Mille to Aaron Copland's score

• An intro film by Ken Burns puts in context the uniquely American style and subject
• Pacing and staging are spacious, very Western American in feel
• Copland score and painted sunset backdrops complete the American thing
• Xiomara Reyes in lead was born for this role
• Nice to see Radetsky get the girl; his tap ain't bad either

Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes, choreographed by Mark Morris to Virgil Thompson

• Great to see this Mark Morris gem in the rotation
• Feeling of non-stop action, risk-taking hand grabs by partners 
• Fluidity, lyricism, satisfying musicality and rhythm
• Morris makes beautiful flowing phrases that read like really good writing 

In the Upper Room, choreographed by Twyla Tharp to Philip Glass

• Wow, this needed rehearsal; the usual rough edges were pretty ragged
• nice to see some less familiar faces in the womens' pointe roles, among the tougher technically speaking: Skylar Brandt and Nicole Graniero in particular
• Sometimes the sheer adrenaline gets the better of dancers, like Luciana Paris and Sascha Radetsky, but it works in the end with the controlled chaos
• Messmer excelled as a main stomper, and Isabella Boylston as well, on pointe 
• Norma Kamali's black, white & red costumes remain surprisingly fresh and slightly shocking

The Moor's Pavane, choreographed by José Limon to Henry Purcell

• Gomes is, predictably, perfect as the Moor. He commands the house with the back of his head, for cryin' out loud.
• Surprise: Cory Stearns is pretty nefarious as His Friend, his long fingers snaking around the Moor's shoulders 
• Julie Kent fragile, beautiful, vulnerable as the Moor's Wife.

Misc.

• Salstein always looks like he's having a ball in ABT's short rep seasons. Though not the most naturally gifted dancer (although the bar is ridiculously high at ABT), he continues to elevate his technique to match his enthusiasm, magnetism, and appeal. He also takes ownership of the stage and whatever roles he's given, which—not coincidentally—are increasingly higher-profile.
• Messmer also had an outstanding season; she and Salstein worked together well
• Amazingly, Santo Loquasto designed costumes for Rodeo and for Drink to Me