"Allegro Brillante," "Flames of Paris pas de deux," "Pillar of Fire," "Brief Fling"
American Ballet Theatre
Opera House
John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts
February 17, 2009
by Alexandra Tomalonis
copyright 2009 by Alexandra Tomalonis
2008 is Antony Tudor's Bicentennial year, and while several companies have scheduled performances of Tudor balets, there's no major retrospective of his work, no chance to put it in context, to be dazzled by the variety of the ballets, to, perhaps, see some of the ballets long out of repertory that could be brought back. If any company could have been expected to host such a celebration, it would have been American Ballet Theatre, the company for whom Tudor made so many fine ballets, and which basked for so long in his reputation. Alas, there's no Festival, nothing like the celebrations for Ashton or Balanchine of 2004, but ABT did include a Tudor work on its opening program: "Pillar of Fire."
"Pillar," which dealt with sexual repression, relationships among siblings, and the effect of societal pressure, was a revolutionary work in its time and could be presented as a model for the future, as classical ballet is more and more misunderstood by artistic directors as fit for children only (you can read this at least once a week in an interview conducted somewhere in America, Australia, Canada or England) and incapable of dealing with issues in contemporary life. Yet back in 1942, "Pillar of Fire" used the ballet vocabulary -- and if anything, the current ABT production shows the ballet's choreography very, very clearly -- in an expressive way, and Tudor depicted the torments and psychology of his characters very clearly, through steps as well as gesture. The production seen here was staged by Amanda McKerrow (an excellent Youngest Sister in her dancing days) and John Gardner, and while the ballet was shown every respect, it needed a lot more sizzle. "Pillar" was made for dramatic dancers -- Nora Kaye and Hugh Laing -- who, according to contemporary accounts and the memories of many balletgoers, gave scorching performances. Michele Wiles (as Hagar, the middle sister who desperately wants to avoid the fate of her spinster older sister), has a magnificent arabesque, but that shouldn't be the image one takes away. Her dancing was matched by David Hallberg in Tudor's role of The Friend, but dramatically, both were too bland. Marcelo Gomes, who has lit up the stage on more than one occasion, gave such a quiet performance as The Man From the House Opposite that I lost him at times when he shared the stage with other dancers. The whole ballet was so muted that it looked like a nice Masterpiece Theatre-type evocation of turn of 20th century life. (An exception was Maria Bystrova's icily aristocratic Oldest Sister, who showed her distain for everyone by the way she swished her skirt, leaving one to think this was why she was a spinster; not in the original text, perhaps, but certainly a Tudoresque notion!)
The staging of "Pillar" looks solid; the choreography was shown quite clearly. I had not noticed before how Tudor used dancing to show Hagar's trying to find her place in her village. When the dancers become comfortable with it, perhaps the temperature will rise, but can one really expect dancers like Wiles and Hallberg (and Gillian Murphy, who was scheduled to dance Hagar at its second performance) to shine in roles like these? To look their best, dancers need roles that suit them, and ballets do, too. Are there no dramatic dancers in that company who would grab these roles by the teeth and shake the ballet back to life?
Balanchine's "Allegro Brillante" also needs a good shake. Here, the dancers had mastered the steps and speed so thoroughly that the ballet was dull. One was conscious of every single repeat. Even the hip thrusts and tilts were danced as though they were part of daily center practice. It occurred to me, watching this, that Balanchine probably put in those idiosyncrasies to shake the dancers up, to keep them from looking as though they were dancing a syllabus. Russian dancers of his day knew how to fill a variation, to play with the steps and the music, to hold a beat a split second too long, or unfurl a hand in an alluring way, or use epaulement to give interest to choreography. American dancers are more straightforward, and Balanchine had to compensate for this and, as always, adapted brilliantly. Unfortunately, he's not around to think up other things to throw at the dancers to liven things up. Gillian Murphy is a champion turner, and danced the ballet brilliantly. Cory Stearns made a very good first attempt. The ensemble, composed of some of ABT's best young dancers, had all the speed one could want. The dancing was an odd mixture of care and sloppiness -- care in the technique, sloppiness because everyone wasn't quite together at times. All of this may well be explained by the fact that this performance was the company premiere, and much of what I've noted can be corrected when the dancers settle into the work. What may be harder to master is the musicality -- not in the sense of inaccuracy; I'm sure the counts were right. But at this first performance, at least, there was no sense that the dancers listen to Tchaikovsky with pleasure.
The pas de deux from Vasily Vainonen's "The Flames of Paris" (a great Soviet-era dramballet about the French Revolution and all the passions that implies) has become a competition piece these days; it's impossible to imagine its context from the dancing. ABT has acquired one of the Gold Medal winners of his generation, Daniil Simkin, who, among other things, can lie on his back in midair. Simkin' has a quiver full of technical tricks and is a pleasant and unassuming performer, but he's curiously light for a technical dynamo. Aside from Basil in "Don Quixote," it's hard to imagine what he will dance, and it will be interesting to find out. Sarah Lane, a fine dancer, seemed to be having an off night.
The program closed with Twyla Tharp's "Brief Fling," which the company danced to the max. It's nearly 20 years old, yet seems contemporary in its "high energy choreography" (as it was called back then). The movement is nonstop, for three squadrons of dancers, distinguished by the color of their costumes (red, blue and green, with some truly hideous grayish plaids in the mix). The dancers looked terrific, especially Misty Copeland as a tiny demon in green, and Herman Cornejo, as the man in blue. Cornejo's dancing showed he's one of the most sophisticated classicists of our time, and it was wonderful to see him in a role that challenged him and that's suited to his size. I don't think I'd like to see one of ballet's new Tall Boys try this one; their legs would get in the way. Cornejo's flash and slash through the steps, and yet seem to take all the time in the world to do so, and his arms, chest and head are magnificently eloquent. The ballet itself seemed endless, and pointless (no drama needed here), but I'd be happy to see it again for Cornejo's solos. For the rest -- perhaps we could have a revival of Dramballet. It's time.
