What a bizarre little program! Something for everyone to love, and, I imagine, something for everyone to loathe.
The opener was Kettentanz, Gerald Arpino’s homage to Austrian social dance. Within a few seconds, the words “froth” and “eye candy” popped into my mind. I found the choreography silly and uninspiring, with much posturing and mannerisms. Which is not to say it wasn’t technically challenging. Indeed, some parts looked fiendishly difficult, but to what end? A few of the dancers struggled to keep up, and even if done technically brilliantly it would not have been particularly pleasing. The backwards bourées by the solo female (Christine Rocas) still stunned me, as they did seven years ago, but I’m afraid the rest of my tastes have changed. (I like to think they are more informed now.)
Okay, so can you tell which one I loathed? However, it was the favorite of the eight-year-old sitting near me.
Mobile (choreography Tomm Ruud/music Aram Khachaturian) was visually stunning and contemplative. Reminiscent of a piece by MOMIX or Pilobolus, it featured one man and two women in ever-changing counterbalanced poses. Lovely; like a palate cleanser.
Balanchine’s Hand of Fate pas de deux from Cotillon closed the first half. Though perfectly ably danced by Victoria Jaiani and Thomas Nicholas, it felt like what it was: a snippet from a longer piece. Lacking any context – and having arrived too late to read the program notes -- we were left scratching our heads. Our party agreed we wanted to see more of those gorgeous women in the colorful costumes: who were they, and where did they go? (Those of you who have ‘known’ me since the start of my ballet journey will, I hope, understand my satisfaction at having actually identified this as Balanchine in the opening movements.)
The entirety of the second half was taken up by Le Sacre du Printemps. Or, nearly the entirety. We actually were treated to a video introduction. How weird is that? It was actually very well done, if a bit self-congratulory and hyperbolic (Ashley Wheater saying something like “this dancer literally sacrifices herself by dancing to exhaustion – which, of course, every dancer does in every performance.”). My guest, who had never seen Sacre before, found the introduction helpful, both in interpreting the action and explaining the deviation from classical dance. She said she understood how such a warning – for that’s what it really was – would forestall, if not riots, at least customers leaving unhappy and feeling cheated. I thought it was also useful to reveal that the choreography is a re-creation, a best guess, and to put the ballet in historical context vis a vis the Ballet Russes.
I liked the dance. I liked the interweavings and counterpositionings of the different groups and their different movement sets. Hard to call it ballet, but very satisfying at some core level.