"Brandenburg," "Carousel (A Dance)," "Zakouski," "The Concert"
New York City Ballet
New York State Theater
New York, NY
January 3, 2008
by Susan Reiter
copyright © 2008 by Susan Reiter
At first sight, what stood out about this NYCB program is that it is one of two mixed bills this season that exclude Balanchine, something one would never have encountered at NYCB until the recent era. But what this program did have going for it is the opportunity to watch two Robbins works, created forty years apart, and to marvel at the craft, imagination, wit and innate vibrancy of NYCB's other longtime mainstay choreographer. With "Brandenburg," his amazing (and surprising) final work, and "The Concert," his ever-delightful whimsical view of people's foibles and fantasies as they listen to music, framing the program, it became a delicious preview of what's in store this spring when the company offers a Robbins Festival.
Robbins had seemed to be bidding a choreographic adieu with his contemplative, nostalgic and loss-tinged 1988 ballet "Ives, Songs," after which he moved into the extended, complex rehearsal process for his great retrospective of his parallel career, "Jerome Robbins' Broadway." But the music of Bach drew him back into the ballet studio in a big way during the 1990s, and he favored us with three more enduring works to that composer's music. The first two were intimate and quite personal in scope and scale, so the ambition and grandeur of "Brandenburg," which premiered eleven years ago -- 18 months before his death -- was an unexpected delight. What one did not anticipate, even more than its scale in terms of number of dancers and substantial length, was the youthful brio with which it reverberates.
In the opening movement, Robbins taps into the robust rhythmic energy of the music. The curtain rises on an expansive V-formation of sixteen dancers that recalls the opening of "Brahms-Handel," his collaboration with Twyla Tharp whose overdue return to NYCB's repertory will be part of the spring festival. Brisk, crisp ensemble action to the initial orchestral passages set up the entrance of Ashley Bouder and Gonzalo Garcia, who ride in on the swift pulse of the first solo violin passage. They are well-matched in their crisp attack, and seem to be a partnership-in-tne-making, sharing a warm camaraderie they began to cultivate when they danced with Christopher Wheeldon's Morphoses last fall.
One of the many wonders of Brandenburg is its unexpected structure. Robbins essentially creates a more traditional ballet within the larger, more adventurous frame of the full work. He uses the complete Brandenburg Concerto No.3 with one central couple, and with it creates a fleet, youthful world that reverberates with the occasional playfulness of "Interplay" as well as some of the earthy and court-flavored elements of his earlier great Bach ballet, "The Goldberg Variations." The second movement is a duet in which Bouder and Garcia are almost continually connected - either maneuvering with linked hands, or engaging in fluent, gracious lifts that always feel propelled by the music, which has a tinge of melancholy. It's nice to see Bouder in this calmer mode, expertly filling out each step and phrase with beautiful meticulousness, as though she had all the time in the world. Garcia is not the most elegant of partners, but is endearingly and warmly attentive, and his dancing has a lovely cushiony spring and resilience. They exit in what amounts to a Paul Taylor homage -- he sweeps her up in a final lift that shifts to his protectively, innocently cradling her in his arms as he heads offstage.
Bach's third movement is such rapid perpetuum mobile onslaught of notes that it almost makes one giddy. Robbins responds with fleetly buoyant passages, first introducing the ensemble -- one couple leads off, then two more, then three -- before Bouder and Garcia return to join in the merriment. Robbins reiterates the prancing steps he introduced in the first movement, sends everyone into a polonaise-style diagonal procession that quickly evaporates as they're on to something else, and concludes the exuberant display with a highly symmetrical full-cast pose.
Then, just as we've reached what feels like a satisfying conclusion, Robbins leads us into new territory in the second, contrasting part of "Brandenburg." It's also in three movements, but each comes from a separate concerto. It opens in a quiet, reflective mode, followed by a charming minuet that allows eight demi-soloists to display their individuality, and only finds its way to allegro vigor in the concluding movement. The Andante (form Brandenburg Concerto No. 2) is a duet for the second lead couple -- Maria Kowrowski and Philip Neal. They enter from opposite sides of the stage, wind their way towards closeness but fail to connect for much of the duration. Even once they touch, they never seem fully aware of each other, and more than one moment evokes imagery from "La Sonnambula." The original duo of Lourdes Lopez and Nikolai Hubbe imbued this quietly haunting section with subtle dramatic shading that is no longer there, but with their limpid clarity and elegant long liine, Kowroski and Neal sustained its cantilena flow and gently haunting implications of loss.
The fresh and ingenious Menuetto--Polacca (from the first Concerto) evokes -- or, one could say -- salutes -- many earlier Robbins works. One immediately thinks of "Goldberg" when a quartet concludes with a somersault into a sharp final group pose. Each of the eight roles is a little gem, as two individual couples come forward for limpid partnering, and the final two dance ebulliently to a jaunty hornpipe, whenever the music ventures in a new variation. They dance as an stately ensemble at the start and finish, and each time the main theme returns. With such exemplary young talent as Rachel Piskin, Adam Hendrickson and Tyler Angle among them, the dancers took gracious advantage of these little moments in the spotlight. This section feels like the work of a choreographer in his effortless prime, and one senses Robbins taking delight in his supreme craftsmanship as he shaped it.
That craftsmanship is present throughout the work. As with so much Robbins, other choreographers could learn much here about structure and in particular about bringing a section, or a ballet, to a conclusion. At the start of the swift, celebratory final section, the two couples finally "meet" and then the stage fills gradually as more and more couples echo and amplify their phrases. The men hold the women by their waists from behind and playfully "pull" as the women do tiny backwards shuffling steps, and Robbins weaves fluid patterns with serene mastery.
"The Concert" returned to the repertory with debuts in nearly all the leading and featured roles. Kowroski, shifting gears effortlessly, again demonstrated her innate gifts as a comedienne as the willowy, ditzy concertgoer who is at the center of the work's most absurd flights of fancy. In Virginia Brooks' heartfelt and informative new documentary on Felia Doubrovska that had screened a few hours earlier (at the Dance on Camera Festival), Allegra Kent recalled that when she learned this role, Robbins gave her the key to her all-important entrance when he told her to think of how Doubrovska entered the studio to teach. The film fortuitously includes several shots of the legendary teacher sweeping grandly, chiffon skirt swirling, into the room or back to the mirror, and Kowroski -- though born too late to have been in her presence -- has clearly learned just the right flounce and flair.
Adam Hendrickson and Gwyneth Muller made debuts as the henpecked, cigar-chomping boor of a husband and the prim, sourly disapproving wife. Always a gifted and inspired in character roles, Hendrickson was quite funny, but lacked a certain coarseness and the believably middle-aged disenchantment that some dancers have brought to the part. Muller is a naturally warm dancer, but she already gave a strong outline to the role, though there is room for sharper timing to develop. In other debuts, Austin Laurent nicely underplayed the nerdy bespectacled student at whom Kowroski flings herself passionately, with ungainly results, and Georgina was delightfully tough and glaring as the concertgoer who radiates aggression. She and her fellow would-be ballerinas made sure the "Mistake Waltz" was as clever and humorous as ever. Nancy McDill added to the merriment as the imperious pianist whose ultimate exasperation, as she slammed down the piano lid, was quite persuasive.
Christopher Wheeldon's "Carousel: A Dance" may have taken its initial impetus from the occasion of Richard Rodgers' centenary in 2002, but it has clearly found an ongoing place in the repertory, and its intricate and often surprising ensemble patterns reward repeated viewing. A few of his efforts to get the dancers onto the ground feel awkward and forced, but the way couples arrive, peel away, or overlap as the music surges and ebbs is often brilliant. Then there is the true raison d'etre for the work: Damian Woetzel in the central role: bursting with brio and easy swagger, rough and ready and all-American. Dancing with deceptive casualness and astounding technical aplomb, he perfectly captures the allure and danger of Billy Bigelow, the hero of "Carousel," even within this abstract context.
Tiler Peck, wonderfully spontaneous and yielding, is first seen slowly, tentatively orbiting outside the shadowy layers of circling bodies, with Woetzel at the center, as though she's both wary of the potential danger yet drawn like a moth to a flame. Their rushing, chasing flirtation, and their ardent coming together as Rodgers' famed waltz gives way to themes from the "Soliloquy" and "If I Loved You," give the work a vibrantly beating heart. Wheeldon contrasts their private world with the ever-shifting bigger picture that includes his clever evocation of an actual carousel and the way the surging onslaught of couples suggests the inevitability of life's accumulating experiences.
Filling out the program was "Zakouski," a slight but occaisonally tasty morsel of a duet that Peter Martins made to welcome and showcase Hubbe soon after he arrived at NYCB. Fifteen years later, on the verge (alas) of retirement, he is dancing it with plenty of verve, musical sensitivity and plush bravura. Each of his appearances becomes bittersweet during these final weeks, but he will be seen in richer showcases than this -- and one hopes with more equally matched partners than the wan Yvonne Borree, who made less of an impression than her busy purple and red costume.
Photos by Paul Kolnik
Top: Ashley Bouder and Gonzalo Garcia in "Brandenburg"
Bottom: Gwyneth Muller, Adam Hendrickson, Maria Kowroski, Arch Higgins and Austin Laurent in "The Concert"
