Ballet: Balanchine and Ratmansky at NYCB
The New York City Ballet has an interesting rule: it only performs works that were written for/debuted at the company. This means a focused repertory on 20-21st century works, since the company was founded by George Balanchine in the 1940's. But it is not a "modern ballet" company. Most works I have seen there have strong connections to romantic or classical ballet, reflecting the its founder Balanchine, the great 20th century choreographer who moved easily between classical and modern traditions. Many new works commissioned by the NYCB also reflect this tradition.
I saw two programs this week, one of highly diverse Balanchine works, the other featuring Alexei Ratmansky (b. 1968) , perhaps the most renowned current choreographer. The contrast was interesting. Both began their careers in Russian classical ballet, both cross over between classical and modern ballet steps and staging, and both have a strong narrative sense, even in supposedly abstract, plotless ballets. But there are differences which make me see Balanchine (1904-1983) the greater artist.
Although Balanchine did set story ballets like The Nutcracker and The Prodigal Son (see my review here), he is most known for plotless, shorter works (he called them abstract, but in fact they frequently have a strong implicit narrative). His choice of music is generally superb, and in his best works I sense that I am seeing music visually explicated on stage. This was the case with this week's works. Two were romantic in inspiration Allegro Brillante (1956, set to Tchaikovsky's single movement Piano Concerto No. 3) and Symphony in C (1947, set to the Bizet work). The other was modernist--The Four Temperaments (1946), set to a score he commissioned from Paul Hindemith, famous for his Symphonic Metamorphoses and Mathis der Mahler symphonies. Symphony in C explodes with precise, buoyant dancing, perfectly illustrating the youthful virtuosity of the 17 year old Bizet, who composed the work 18 years prior to his Carmen. One got a sense here that the perfect performance of this ballet is an unachievable ideal, as Balanchine sets very specific movements to Bizet's precise phrases, yet all to serve a joyous organic whole with a grand climax. This is a case of a terrific symphony made even better by great dance. The Four Temperaments was intriguing. The costumes are black and white leotards, the motions much more geometric and non classical, with lots of angular arm and leg bending. Most movements end with dancers exiting the stage in fascinating, unusual positions (e.g. see here, here, and here). The temperaments referred to are the effects of the ancient Greek humors on the personality, now in our vocabulary as personality adjectives: yellow bile:choleric (angry, hot tempered); blood:sanguine (social, collaborative, friendly); phlegm:phlegmatic (cool, stoic); black bile: melancholic (sad). While Balanchine and Hindemith claimed that their dance/music were not literal depictions of these temperaments, each of the depictions did express them to some degree, e.g. the delightful leaping and interaction during "sanguine", the jolting motions of "choleric", or the solo inward movements during "phlegmatic". This is a piece where Balanchine invents his own new steps and postures to serve the purpose of the music and theme.
Balanchines's modernism always seem connected to excellent music, far better than other famed abstract choreographers like Martha Graham or Paul Taylor.
Ratmansky is an ex-dancer and past artistic director of the Bolshoi Ballet, which he left a decade ago, in part because of frustration with the conservative, hierarchical deference to senior dancers there. The two recent Ratmansky ballets both reflected these Russian origins. Russian Seasons (2006), set to a Russian folk music-inspired suite by contemporary composer Leonid Desyatnikov (b. 1955), seemed like an update of Stravinsky's Les Noces, depicting Russian folk rituals and an ending wedding. The wonderful costumes were brilliant matching pants and tops of vivid colors, each color for a paired man/woman (e.g. two in purple, two in orange, etc.).
The dance was a mix of folk steps, classical organization, and modernist movements. It felt very Russian, but perhaps did not build to the wedding-climax (now with two dancers in brilliant white, setting off the rainbow costumes of the others) as much as it might have. The music was partly responsible, lacking a sense of progression.
Namouna, a Grand Divertissement (2010) is an odd tongue-in-cheek ballet, sort of a winking commentary on Russian romantic ballet traditions and cliches. Set to a rich, colorful but mindless 19th century score by Eduard Lalo, it freely adopted fragments from the ballet Namouna, a rarely-to-never performed 1880's ballet about a slave girl's abduction by a rich count on Corfu. In this version, we get the hint of a story, but it is never really made clear. A sailor (in sailor garb) dances with various exotic women, including a funny group of classical ballet women all smoking like 1930's film starlets. I kept seeing references to famous ballets, without actually being able to place them, rather like the whole thing was an insider's joke that I was not party to. Ratmansky has a warm sense of humor, and perhaps the issue is that the Russian sense of humor is not mine. This is one of the more admired new ballets by critics, but I did not really get the joke and, when paired with my worst stereotype of mindless ballet music (think Minkus or Adam) the total package left me rather cold. Perhaps I should see some of his more serious dramatic works. I like the creativity of Ratmansky's ballets, but hope he will pick better music in the future.
I saw two programs this week, one of highly diverse Balanchine works, the other featuring Alexei Ratmansky (b. 1968) , perhaps the most renowned current choreographer. The contrast was interesting. Both began their careers in Russian classical ballet, both cross over between classical and modern ballet steps and staging, and both have a strong narrative sense, even in supposedly abstract, plotless ballets. But there are differences which make me see Balanchine (1904-1983) the greater artist.
Although Balanchine did set story ballets like The Nutcracker and The Prodigal Son (see my review here), he is most known for plotless, shorter works (he called them abstract, but in fact they frequently have a strong implicit narrative). His choice of music is generally superb, and in his best works I sense that I am seeing music visually explicated on stage. This was the case with this week's works. Two were romantic in inspiration Allegro Brillante (1956, set to Tchaikovsky's single movement Piano Concerto No. 3) and Symphony in C (1947, set to the Bizet work). The other was modernist--The Four Temperaments (1946), set to a score he commissioned from Paul Hindemith, famous for his Symphonic Metamorphoses and Mathis der Mahler symphonies. Symphony in C explodes with precise, buoyant dancing, perfectly illustrating the youthful virtuosity of the 17 year old Bizet, who composed the work 18 years prior to his Carmen. One got a sense here that the perfect performance of this ballet is an unachievable ideal, as Balanchine sets very specific movements to Bizet's precise phrases, yet all to serve a joyous organic whole with a grand climax. This is a case of a terrific symphony made even better by great dance. The Four Temperaments was intriguing. The costumes are black and white leotards, the motions much more geometric and non classical, with lots of angular arm and leg bending. Most movements end with dancers exiting the stage in fascinating, unusual positions (e.g. see here, here, and here). The temperaments referred to are the effects of the ancient Greek humors on the personality, now in our vocabulary as personality adjectives: yellow bile:choleric (angry, hot tempered); blood:sanguine (social, collaborative, friendly); phlegm:phlegmatic (cool, stoic); black bile: melancholic (sad). While Balanchine and Hindemith claimed that their dance/music were not literal depictions of these temperaments, each of the depictions did express them to some degree, e.g. the delightful leaping and interaction during "sanguine", the jolting motions of "choleric", or the solo inward movements during "phlegmatic". This is a piece where Balanchine invents his own new steps and postures to serve the purpose of the music and theme.
Balanchines's modernism always seem connected to excellent music, far better than other famed abstract choreographers like Martha Graham or Paul Taylor.
Ratmansky is an ex-dancer and past artistic director of the Bolshoi Ballet, which he left a decade ago, in part because of frustration with the conservative, hierarchical deference to senior dancers there. The two recent Ratmansky ballets both reflected these Russian origins. Russian Seasons (2006), set to a Russian folk music-inspired suite by contemporary composer Leonid Desyatnikov (b. 1955), seemed like an update of Stravinsky's Les Noces, depicting Russian folk rituals and an ending wedding. The wonderful costumes were brilliant matching pants and tops of vivid colors, each color for a paired man/woman (e.g. two in purple, two in orange, etc.).
The dance was a mix of folk steps, classical organization, and modernist movements. It felt very Russian, but perhaps did not build to the wedding-climax (now with two dancers in brilliant white, setting off the rainbow costumes of the others) as much as it might have. The music was partly responsible, lacking a sense of progression.
Namouna, a Grand Divertissement (2010) is an odd tongue-in-cheek ballet, sort of a winking commentary on Russian romantic ballet traditions and cliches. Set to a rich, colorful but mindless 19th century score by Eduard Lalo, it freely adopted fragments from the ballet Namouna, a rarely-to-never performed 1880's ballet about a slave girl's abduction by a rich count on Corfu. In this version, we get the hint of a story, but it is never really made clear. A sailor (in sailor garb) dances with various exotic women, including a funny group of classical ballet women all smoking like 1930's film starlets. I kept seeing references to famous ballets, without actually being able to place them, rather like the whole thing was an insider's joke that I was not party to. Ratmansky has a warm sense of humor, and perhaps the issue is that the Russian sense of humor is not mine. This is one of the more admired new ballets by critics, but I did not really get the joke and, when paired with my worst stereotype of mindless ballet music (think Minkus or Adam) the total package left me rather cold. Perhaps I should see some of his more serious dramatic works. I like the creativity of Ratmansky's ballets, but hope he will pick better music in the future.
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