"Prodigal Son", "Liebeslieder Walzer"
New York City Ballet
David H. Koch Theater
Lincoln Center
New York, New York
March 2, 2019 matinee
by Carol Pardo
copyright © 2019 by Carol Pardo
"Prodigal Son" is one of Balanchine's most robust ballets; it turns ninety this year and has rarely been out of the New York City Ballet's repertory since being revived for Edward Villella in 1960. There have been always male dancers, willing, able, even eager to take on the title role and a stable of tall long-legged women to embody the Siren.
"Liebeslieder Waltzer", made in 1960, is one of Balanchine's greatest but most fragile ballets, disappearing from the repertory all too frequently. Casting is crucial, for "Liebeslieder" makes exceptional and unfamiliar demands on its dancers. It is a ballet with a 19th century European, rather than 20th or 21st century American, sensibility. It is a ballet of reticence, restraint, good manners, domesticity. The dancers are neither super-human nor divine as is so often the case with Balanchine, neither vessels of abstraction nor characters in a narrative but somewhere in between, but human, identifiably like us. And these people dance for themselves rather than presenting themselves to us; the audience is a privileged witness to the interactions of this small community.
The presence of three new men rebalanced the ballet from four women and their bourgeois cavaliers to four couples and their interactions. Taylor Stanley's intensity and concentration serve him as well here as in his star turn in "The Runaway" though the two works could not be more different. At the moment when he pushed Phelan forward in the small of her back he seemed to be calculating how far she would go and how much he could control her. Joseph Gordon has a softness similar to that of Nicholas Magallanes, no sharp angles, just gentle curves to his gestures. It is he who carries his partner parallel to the floor, both dead weight and lighter than air, corpse and spirit. The woman has never seemed so far from the floor, so divorced from gravity, as Tiler Peck did here in Gordon's arms. Daniel Applebaum's épaulement was beautiful, his gaze ardent and unwavering. Russell Janzen looks great in formal wear and has the height to partner any tall woman in the company. His reactions to his partner can also tell an entire story as his Siegfried once did in Balanchine's "Swan Lake". I was hoping for something similar here but Janzen was the most self-effacing of the men.
The casting of Unity Phelan and Abi Stafford was something of a surprise; I've only seen them both in up tempo extroverted roles. Phelan took to satin and a tiara right away; she fit into her surroundings seamlessly. Her final duet was not heart-breaking but was quiet, somber and grave. Stafford is known for her impregnable technique and her boundless American energy, that last is about as far from "Liebeslieder" as one can get. It is to her credit to have tempered her energy to the part, so that it reads as youthful high spirits. But the long line and mystery of the part do not seem to be hers. Watching Sara Mearns go for broke can be exhilarating, even liberating, but the reticence of "Liebeslieder" is not congenial to her and the six o'clock arabesque in a ball gown misplaced. Tiler Peck has the speed, verve, and flirtatious high spirits for her part and seems to be on the cusp of making the role her own. All of the dancers deserve to have more performances to explore their roles and to share what they learn over time. So it is a pity that "Liebeslieder", originally programmed for spring 2019, has been cancelled, even more so because the singers this time out were the best to be heard in years.
"Prodigal Son" was safe in good hands led by veterans Daniel Ulbricht and Teresa Reichlen. They know what they're doing and why. Ulbricht, a technical powerhouse, was at his best as he leaned away from his praying family yearning for the wider world with no idea of the cruelty to be found there. Picking her way across the stage in a hybrid of a crab walk and a bridge, Reichlen extended her working leg just ninety degrees from her torso, rather than allowing it to go as far back as possible, so that it gleamed like a rapier in the spotlight and laid claim to the entire stage. In the pas de deux, the Prodigal crawls between the Siren's legs and lifts her on his neck. Later, she slides down his shins. Both moments can elicit gasps of surprise or fear from the audience. Here they went off without a bobble or a wobble, an undeniable lesson in domination and submission. Experience tells.