"Divertimento No. 15", "Scotch Symphony", "La Sonnambula"
New York City Ballet
David H. Koch Theater
Lincoln Center
New York, New York
September 21, 2022
by Mary Cargill
copyright © 2022 by Mary Cargill
Though "Divertimento No. 15", set to Mozart, is a vision of Viennese elegance, complete with Austrian shades on Karinska's tutus, this performance found its romantic heart in the flowing Andante and was a courtly introduction to the more traditionally romantic idea of the unattainable in "Scotch Symphony" with its echoes of "La Sylphide", and in the gothic mysteries of "La Sonnambula". There were many debuts (the entire cast of "La Sonnambula" was making its first appearance), but the works looked well rehearsed and cohesive, as if everyone were hearing the same music.
Sterling Hyltin and Anthony Huxley in "Scotch Symphony" photo © Erin Baiano
The "Divertimento No. 15" Andante, where three men take turns partnering five women, can look as if the men are presenting a particularly refined piece of chocolate from the world's most elegant box of candy, but this evening the movement had a rich emotional undercurrent, as the men danced with a subdued longing, with extended lines and constant involvement of the head and eyes. As the separate groups of men and women left on opposite sides of the stage, it seemed like an elegy to lost loves.
The work isn't all andante of course, and it was led by the scintillating Tiler Peck and Joseph Gordon at his generous, noble best. Peck's solo, with its sparkling footwork, was both incredibly fast and generously clear; she seemed to manipulate time, as the steps cascaded out by the millisecond yet with such clarity that the audience was able to pause to enjoy each one, as her upper body floated above it all with a musical ease. The four other women (Isabella LaFreniere in her debut, Ashley Hod, Ashley Laracey, and Emily Kikta), danced their solos with a radiant confidence; LaFreniere was fast and playful, Hod seemed to caress the air with her jumps, Laracey had a leggy chic, and Kikta used her legs with a controlled exuberance. Aaron Sanz and Davide Riccardo (a debut) danced the opening theme, seeming to toss the steps to each other in a generous conversation. Sanz, with his long, elegant line and quiet commitment is a remarkable dancer, a distinctive romantic present with worked well with Riccardo's more centered nobility.
"Scotch Symphony" uses the last three movements of Mendelssohn's "Scottish Symphony" to evoke the world of Bournonville's 1836 "La Sylphide," though a more accurate title would be "Random Thoughts About Scotland," since the three sections are only connected by men in kilts. The heroine of the first movement is a bouncy girl, danced by a charming Olivia MacKinnon, in her debut. She was fleet and light as she soared with her two partners (Alex Knight and Victor Abreu) in the exciting balleticized highland fling, until she pranced off never to be seen again.
The second movement switches to the sylph's forest, where she (Sterling Hyltin) lives along guarded by more men in kilts, until a romantic dreamer formerly known as James (Anthony Huxley) turns up. The guards alternately force him away and toss her to him in quite striking but emotionally illogical moves. The heart of the movement, the sylph's solos and pas de deux, are magical. Hyltin was an incandescently beautiful Sylph when she danced Peter Martins' version of Bournonville's ballet and she brought the same lighthearted charm and willful determination to Balanchine's sylph. Huxley was an admirable partner, a romantic yearning after the unattainable.
By the third movement, however, the sylph had become a happy Scottish hausfrau who was welcomed by the village in a joyful finale, the forest and its domineering men long forgotten (along with the little Scottish girl). Huxley's solo, with its complicated series of revolving turns was crisp and clean. But the haunting highlight was Hyltin's forest sylph a creature made of air and joy.
There is no joy in "La Sonnambula", with its surreal, nightmarish story of betrayal, mystery, and death. It has a much more consistent atmosphere than the discursive "Scotch Symphony"; Balanchine choreographed it in 1946 for the Ballets Russes, where he was given the libretto and the music. The cast, led by Unity Phelan as the Sleepwalker, Harrison Ball as the Poet, Georgina Pazcoguin as the Coquette, and Jared Angle as the Baron, made impressive debuts. Angle, with his slightly mincing gate, oh so precise gestures, and air of command made walking across the stage seem as ominous as Vincent Price's voice; he was a man polished to the point of heartlessness.
Pazcoguin's hot-blooded and impulsive Coquette was less integrated into the threatening atmosphere, and the odd dance with the Poet, where she constantly faced away from him, didn't really work, since her impetuous Coquette would surely have just grabbed the Poet and headed for the bushes; there was no mystery about her motives. Ball certainly made a Poet worth running off with, and he was able to use stillness to dominate the stage. He does have a slightly guarded stage presence, and the Poet's aching vulnerability , as he tries to join the crowd only to be rebuffed, was lightly sketched. This reticence, though, worked very well in his dance with the Sleepwalker as his almost frozen awe made the moments when she appeared to walk through him chilling, and the audience, which often breaks into titters at this moment, was holding its breath.
Phelan's Sleepwalker was more substantial than some, and she didn't have the mysterious phosphorescent glow that can make the Sleepwalker seem half-human, half-ghost; nevertheless, it was a very effective performance. Her bourrées flowed without any extra twinkling emphasis so the audience concentrated on her calm, yet oddly disturbing face. The startling moment when she discovered the Poet's body and, eyes still dead, gave a little shiver and bent back in mourning was electric, the first generous human emotion in the ballet.
The corps, which for so long has danced this as if they were only told they were in a ballroom so have fun, avoided the junior prom atmosphere and danced with a slightly tense, impassive demeanor which added to the tension. The entertainers (all debuts) were also a bit mechanical, with their odd, in and out moves, which made their ultimate sympathy for the poor Poet all the more impressive. Sara Adams and Harrison Coll danced the quirky pas de deux with an impassive confidence, and Cainan Weber's Harlequin was a tour de force of high, easy jumps; he downplayed the oh my aching back routine, and that bit of humor was a gleam of light in that haunting ballet of impossible love.
Photos © Erin Baiano:
Top: Sterling Hyltin and Anthony Huxley in "Scotch Symphony"
Bottom: Ashley Hod and Aaron Sanz in "Divertimento No. 15"
copyright © 2022 by Mary Cargill