Ballerina

Okay, so I kick it old-school when it comes to Netflix. Because of my refusal to deal with the cable company for anything (I haven’t had cable for almost 9 years now) I get my internet from my wireless service provider which means I have a data usage limit and can’t take advantage of as much streaming video as I’d like to. So I’m still in DVD-land when it comes to Netflix.

I’m also horrible about watching the DVDs sent to me. Sometimes I’ll be good about watching them promptly and sending them back. But then a few weeks will go by and they just sit. This means that the DVDs I’m getting currently are ones I added to my queue approximately two years ago. I’m not kidding.

It would seem that approximately two years ago I added a ton of ballet-related DVDs to the queue. Which makes sense… that was about the time I started getting involved in the dance blog-o-sphere and finding out about some of these gems. So now I’m finally watching them.

The first one I got was Ballerina (2006) which was a documentary profiling five female dancers from the Mariinsky (Kirov) ballet. The five dancers they chose were all at different levels.

The first, Alina Somova, was in her final year at the Vaganova Ballet Academy and preparing for the graduation performance which served as her audition for the Mariinsky. She was accepted into the company and you get to see her transition from student to professional.

The second, Evgenia Obraztsova, was a graduate of Vaganova, but had already completed her first year in the company and so it showed her as a professional who was starting her ascent through the ranks.

Then there were two dancers who were already established prima ballerinas in the company, Svetlana Zakharova and Diana Vishneva. The focus on them was really on how they rehearse their roles and bring their characters to life and their attempts to perform outside of the Mariinsky (it showed Vishneva travelling to Paris to work with the Paris Opera Ballet and Manuel Legris).

The fifth dancer was Ulyana Lopatkina who was coming back from two years away from ballet. She had endured an injury that required her to step back and took advantage of that time to get married and have a baby. She was now working back towards performance shape.

With covering five dancers they really couldn’t get into as much detail as I would have liked on the progression of each of the dancers, but I loved that they showed people at various levels of their profession and the challenges they face at each point.

Since the beginning of the film highlighted Somova it also showed the training at Vaganova and was really interesting to see. They showed the 10-year-old girls auditioning and it was quite eye-opening. There was little in the way of dancing from what they showed of the audition process. Instead they showed a group of girls in their underwear in front of a panel. One of the teachers (I assume) tested their flexibility in their legs and back by putting them into various positions (side extension, arabesque, cambré back). The student didn’t really do much herself. It seemed a bit demeaning in some ways. I mean, aside from the audition in one’s underwear, I saw no part where the child demonstrated her dancing ability. It was really all about their physique. On the other hand it highlighted the whole hand-picked aspect of Vaganova training. There is a lot of controversy about the demands of the Vaganova technique in terms of flat turn-out, etc. But you could see how they really were picking kids that had the physical capacity to meet the demands of training. So… I guess reassuring in some ways and a bummer in others.

What showed the flip side of all of this, at least in my opinion, was an interview conducted with Manuel Legris later in the film. He discussed how every Russian ballerina has a unique quality to her dancing, that no two dance the same. Which I found interesting because of how exacting Vaganova is known to be. I mean, all those pictures of the Vaganova kids in class where they look like they’re all cut from a mold. You’d think they would all dance similarly as professionals. But no.

And you could see that in the rehearsal footage. It was amazing to me to see how hard these ballerinas would work on maybe an 8-count snippet of choreography to get the expression just right. It wasn’t simply a matter of memorizing the choreography and executing it cleanly, it was about which way the head was tilted, how the hand was moved, etc. So fascinating to see the focus on even the most minute detail. And the work that the ballerina would do with a teacher, the back and forth discussion of what the character should be, how to best express that. The amount of real, true work went into the rehearsals was staggering to me. It wasn’t all about physicality, it was a lot of give and take, feedback, tweaking, etc. Truly impressive.

As an adult re-beginner I also particularly enjoyed the section about Lopatkina because I could relate in some way to her struggle. Obviously she dances at a much higher level than we amateurs can ever aspire to, but she was completely out of the dance studio for two years dealing with her injury and becoming a mom. To watch her come back and say the same things that so many of us have… working to get back to where we were previously, building strength that has been lost, etc. Truly inspiring. And what I loved was how gentle she was with herself in the process. She had realistic goals of building herself back up to her previous level. It was coming back all guns blazing. It was working back up to classes and and then some small roles, hoping to get some solos and duos. But what I also loved was the interview with the artistic director who was saying that Lopatkina’s best years were still to come. I mean, she had stepped back from the company when she was at a very high level and then had to make up for lost time. But her higher-ups still felt that this hadn’t been a detriment to her and that she was going to do great things. I think all of us adults can take that into consideration… we may have lost time, but that doesn’t mean that our best years are behind us!

Overall, a nicely-done documentary that managed to put a lot into a brief 80-minute span. I found it wholly engrossing and inspiring! Oh, and I loved seeing the images of the theatre having visited there in 1995! Such a beautiful building.

The big league arena

I live in a rather sports-obsessed area. I don’t happen to like the sports teams in this area (shhhh!), but for those who do, the fields, arenas, and stadiums where they play are places worthy of pilgrimage and I think it’s safe to say that each fans dream of one day being able to play on the field, ice, or floor where their revered team plays. My employer is an official something-or-other for one of these sports teams and we have a yearly event where different groups of employees can register to win a chance to spend a day playing on the field and it’s VERY popular.

Of course, just being on the field isn’t QUITE as cool as playing professionally, but since it’s as close as most of us mere mortals will get, it’s still something noteworthy!

I think it’s safe to say that most of us in the dance world feel similarly. It’s cool that I have danced on the same stage as some pretty major acts (not at the same time, of course!), but those were touring acts in our own puny venues. It’s something completely different to be on the home stage of a major player.

Well, dear reader, I got to have that experience!

So I’ve mentioned that I became a Boston Ballet subscriber which means I’ve been spending some quality time at the Boston Opera House. This past weekend I was there to see a very different kind of show… a touring production of a rather irreverent and foul-mouthed Broadway musical. You might have heard of it — shares its name with a religious tome — and was written by the chaps responsible for an equally irreverent and foul-mouthed group of four cartoon boys. That one.

Wicked FREAKIN’ expensive, but hilarious (assuming you have a high tolerance for crude language) and, in its own bizarre way, kind of sweet, made all the more special because I knew someone on the stage! The son of one of my dance teacher/friends is the dance captain and a swing for the show. He performed with us a couple years ago as Oberon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Since this is a dance blog I’ll avoid much review… there was some dancing, but nothing too remarkable. Typical cheesy musical theatre dance moves, which were oh-so-totally-appropriate for this show.

The part I wanted to tell you about took place afterwards when we met up with the Captain at the stage door and got a private backstage tour! OMG, wow!!! This was, what, the fifth time I’ve been in that theatre in the past six months, and I’ve only really seen the lobby and the mezzanine and (this time) the orchestra seating. I didn’t even know where the stage door was until now!

Going down the stairs from the stage door led us straight backstage. And what a backstage it was. I’ve danced in places with teeny-tiny (aka, nonexistant) backstage areas. And some that seemed quite adequate. Well, this was way more than adequate. It was huge. Cavernous. Made me feel strangely reverent.

We saw where the props hung out backstage and then went onstage. The company brings their own floor which is laid over the existing stage floor. There are tracks in it for the moveable pieces of scenery (I guess it’s all computerized). Now this is where things got weird for me. I felt like Alice after she drank the potion. The stage seemed tiny. Keep in mind, of course, that the scenery takes up a huge part of the stage, so it makes sense that the open area is small. But from the audience it looked way bigger. But then an equally weird part. I turned to look out at the audience (because isn’t that everyone’s dream?! to be on the stage looking out at the audience?) and it looked… equally tiny! I mean, when I’m in the audience I feel like I’m surrounded by a huge expanse of seats. But from there it looked downright puny. But it’s 2600+ seats! Weird.

We went to the other wing where more of the moveable scenery pieces were kept. Captain told us that not all theatres they visit are this expansive. In fact, in San Francisco there were essentially no wings on the left and any crossovers to the other side of stage had to be accomplished by going downstairs and running under the stage, then coming back up. Crazy! We saw the backstage dressing areas (I somehow expect that BB has a more formal dressing room area that they use, though I could be wrong… I think for the purposes of this show there are so many quick changes that it makes sense to just do it all backstage).

We learned about their travelling crew… amazing how many people it takes to keep the show going. The number of tractor-trailer trucks they use to go from one city to another, the props, hair/makeup, electricians, etc. that they travel with. They hire some local people for the shows, but a lot of it travels. I’d love to spend a week there just to see how it all works.

I’d still love to get back there to see it from the ballet perspective, but regardless of the show, I’m thrilled that I was finally able to see some of what the BB dancers see when they perform. Awesome-sauce!!!

Sleeping Beauty

Not referring to myself, here, though I’ve acquired a cold recently that certainly has me wanting to sleep for 100 years. It’s not making me feel very beautiful, though!

In spite of this, I powered through the snot to go see Boston Ballet’s Sleeping Beauty this weekend.

Although I claim to not really like story ballets, Sleeping Beauty holds a special place in my heart. For one because, during my freshman year of high school, our ballet teacher decided that we would do an excerpt from the 3rd act in the dance school’s annual recital. She adapted it to fit our small class (and our limited abilities), but we had a White Cat and Puss in Boots, the Bluebird, Red Riding Hood and the Wolf. I was the Lilac Fairy and Aurora, the Prince, and I performed the pas de trois together. It was a small portion of the recital, but I enjoyed it tremendously.

Then, a few years later, BB performed Sleeping Beauty and the same ballet teacher brought a group of us to see it. As a special treat, she arranged for the girl who played Aurora and me to see the company warm-up. I don’t remember much about the ballet, but I do remember watching the warm-up and being awed while watching professionals go through the same exercises we did.

Needless to say, I was very excited to be seeing this again with fresh eyes.

If you’ve not seen Sleeping Beauty, let me warn you that it’s rather a loooong ballet. I mean, Princess Aurora does sleep for 100 years, so they want to give you a taste… ha!

Seriously, though, I enjoyed myself far more than I expected to. For one thing, the costumes and sets are terrific. Lots of sparkle and elegance. The sets make the stage seem huge. From a visual standpoint alone there was a lot going on to keep the audience’s attention.

As for the choreography… I was wondering what to expect having just come off seeing the very modern and innovative Kylián. Would the 120 year old Petipa creation keep my interest? Surprisingly, yes. In fact, I really enjoyed the choreography. It’s much simpler than modern-day works. I could name most of the steps I saw. But instead of being boring (which I complained of with the new BB Nutcracker) I found it refreshing. Very clean with more of a focus on the story and the interpretation.

Although, this leads me to one of my complaints about the show. The casting. Now, like any ballet company, they have multiple people cast to play the parts and they rotate through the shows. I understand that the principals are going to be the main characters. But that doesn’t mean that all of the principals are appropriate for each of the leads. Our Princess Aurora was Lia Cirio, who — let there be no doubt — is a tremendous dancer. I’ve seen her in multiple shows now and she is clearly an exceptionally talented, poised, and strong dancer. But I think that poise was part of what made her feel so… inappropriate in this role. Princess Aurora is supposed to be a 16-year-old girl. While this is a fairy-tale, I still expect a 16-year-old character to display certain characteristics… a bit shy, a bit of reckless, a bit awkward, a bit naïve. Cirio was technically brilliant, but somehow came across as being too self-assured, too confident. Not very teenager-y. I found myself wishing that she were the Lilac Fairy, instead, something where her confidence and maturity would be a better match.

Along with that… I wish they had given Aurora a slightly more romantic tutu. Hers was the classic style, which was beautiful when she was dancing, but when she fell asleep was comically distracting. Here’s the slumbering Aurora and here is her tutu sticking straight up in the air like a saw blade. I wished they had given her a romantic style, or even a bell tutu for the first two acts, something that would have looked a bit softer, more in keeping with a young ingénue.

In general all the performances were lovely, though. The third act remains my favorite, and if I could play any role in the show I’m quite sure I’d want to be the White Cat. Sassy little scamp! It was such a joy to watch this part of the ballet and pull some memories out the recesses of my mind from 20 years ago!

Oh, and I must say a kudos to BB… I had complained about the fact that the Nutcracker cast list didn’t include the names of the students anywhere. This was rectified this time around. Students and supernumeraries both were listed at the end of the cast list. Bravo, BB! My ballet companion and I decided that our new goal in life is to become supernumeraries.

I have to say, this show changed my mind about the story ballets. While the stories themselves can be a bit silly, they are a completely different animal from the contemporary works and are deserving of respect in their own right, from the style of dance, to the set and costume design. And, of course, they are a great way to engage young people in the performing arts. The audience was noticeably larger last night than the one two weeks ago for All Kylián and there were many more children in the audience. While this can be a bit annoying for someone like me (when DO kids learn how to whisper quietly?), I was impressed that the ones around me paid attention for the full (nearly) 3 hours. Even if Carabosse did make a little kid cry during the prologue (I guess it was a testament to his — for it was a “he” on this particular evening — ability to project the fairy’s evil character), the stories pull the children in and I was glad to see so many parents bringing their children out to the ballet for an evening.

After gorging on BB for the past couple weeks I have to wait until May for Chroma (sooooo excited) and Coppélia. But, I did just get info about next season… including an opportunity to continue my super-awesome $25/ticket deal, OMG! It will be BB’s 50th anniversary and I am thrilled about all of the shows they’ve got planned: La Bayadère, Close to Chuck (also featuring Kylián’s “Bella Figura”), Cinderella, Pricked (with works by Zuska, Ekman, and Lander), and Balanchine’s “Jewels”. Cannot wait!

Winner, winner, chicken dinner

In case you were wondering how my DWTS competition went:

Yes, that is the championship trophy in my hands right there! Woohoo!!!

Okay, in all fairness, I think it was a tie between us and the other couple from our studio. That star’s table was louder. My star had more tables. The applause-o-meter was probably registering about equal. I would have been happy if either of us won. Because the mini mirror ball trophies the other couples got were trés adorable and I was a teensy bit jealous. Seriously.

But all in all a tremendous experience. And so happy for the music school we were fundraising for. They sold out and I think next year might have to find a new venue to accomodate everyone. The faces I saw were all smiles and there was a ton of buzz around. It was an honor to be part of it. The winning trophy was just the icing on the cake.

Also… I think I may have been born in the wrong era. I kind of loved my 1940s get-up.

The Alignment Chronicles

I’d posted about my desire to get into alignment a few weeks ago.

I’ve decided to do something about it… and for some unknown reason feel the need to blog about the experience.

Because I’m a weirdo.

But I don’t want to clog up this site which is, at this point, a dance blog. I’m guessing that most of my visitors are not exactly clamoring for posts about orthodontia, but for the bizarre few…

You can head over to The Alignment Chronicles to read about that.

So… yeah.

There was a funny dance-related experience during my inital consult visit with the orthodontist, though. The coordinator was setting up my future appointments and was trying to fit everything around my work schedule. She asked if I had availability on Saturdays, to which I replied, “Well, I have ballet class, but I can come in afterwards.”

“Ballet?! Really!? Wow, that is SO CUTE!!!” she said. And then peppered me with questions about where I dance and how long I’ve been doing it and what styles I take and whether I get to perform. She danced locally as a kid and is looking to find a studio for her young daughter to start at next fall, so I was giving her the details on my studio. She was SO excited. And then was all apologetic for getting off-topic.

Heck, I don’t care. I love talking about dance, especially if I think I might be able to get an adult back in the studio!

Going Pro…

I mentioned some “competition” in my All Kylián post.

That needs some elaboration.

So, maybe you remember about a year or so ago I posted about being part of a flash mob. Well, the music school’s gala time has come upon us again!

This year’s theme is “1940s Dance Hall,” including….

A Dancing with the Stars competition.

I wasn’t asked to be a star (shocking, I know), but I am… a “Pro.” Ooh, I do like the sound of that!

I am not quite sure how I got roped into this. All I recall is being asked if I could show up on a certain day to rehearse and I said, “Okay!” and it’s been a whirlwind since then.

Alright, it wasn’t as mysterious as all that. My dance friend who is on the gala committee asked me and one of our other dancers to participate and, while I didn’t really know what I was getting into, I was game to give it a go.

First rehearsal was sans star. Thankfully I wasn’t responsible for choreographing the piece… our flash mob choreographer (also my lyrical teacher) took care of that. She and I worked out some of the ideas for the beginning, including our theme (which I’m keeping under wraps for the moment!). Got the general idea down and were ready to present it to our “star.”

Now let me tell you that the idea of dancing with A) a stranger and B) a non-dancer is a bit intimidating. I had no idea what I was going to be faced with. I assumed the fact that he agreed to do this meant he was — at the very least — outgoing and a good sport, but you really just don’t know. Thankfully my assumptions were spot on and he showed up with his game face on. He’s also got a competitive streak, which helps.

So we’ve been working our way through the dance for the past couple months, and teaching our star about chassées and kick-ball-changes along the way (with moderate success). I’m also grateful that the star’s daughter is a dancer and his wife does yoga, so they’ve been tutoring him in the off hours to prep him for the competition. Oh, and he’s done his part to fill the tables at the gala which will hopefully ensure lots of votes, though honestly I think his supporters will be pleasantly surprised and won’t just be voting for him out of kindness. He’s really worked hard and come a long way as a dancer.

Last night was our dress rehearsal. We didn’t get to dance on the actual floor in the actual space. Instead we were performing in a parochial school cafeteria with a highly polished linoleum floor (eek!). But the shoeless version of our dance went well. I also got to take my costume for a twirl for the first time.

Finding a costume was a bit of a headache. A local theatre was supposed to have stuff for us, but their ’40s-themed items were a bit… flashy. And our dance was meant to be a bit more demure. So I went out shopping picturing exactly in my head what I wanted (a high-waisted skirt, A-line, and a poufy, short-sleeved blouse) and found… nothing. A few shirt-dress type things that might have worked if their hemline didn’t land squarely mid-thigh. Argh. But then, an epiphany! I remembered my mom giving me a dress that one of my great-aunts knit for my grandmother, which would make it… maybe not 100% vintage 1940s, but not too far off! I found it tucked away in my closet, tried it on… et, parfait! I got a Gellish manicure last week in a bright red. Just need to get the hair and makeup and we’ll be good to go!

As for my competition… the two female stars are dancing with men from a local ballroom studio, so I don’t know anything about them. But I’m, of course, rooting for my fellow pro from our studio. Haven’t seen her piece yet, but we had the same choreographer, so I’m sure it will be adorable.

The countdown is on… check back this weekend for the results! I’m hoping for straight 10s!

Allllll Kylián

I attended my first show as an offical Subscriber.

Imagine my disappointment when I discovered there was no red carpet rolled out for me. I guess I need to give a bit more than my measly $25/ticket to get that sort of treatment.

Never mind, though!

On to the review!

So, I invited my competition (ooohhhh, I haven’t told you about my competition yet, have I, dear reader… well, hang on, it’s going to have to wait for another post… suffice it to say, she is surely friendly competition!) to join me for an evening at the ballet.

We made it to the big city with plenty of time to spare despite dodging drunken hockey fans who were milling about the street. (There was an afternoon game at the Gahhhh-den and the hometown heroes [ew, ick, gag] had won… though, win or lose I’m sure the bars would still have been packed. Perhaps I should note here that I am a rather rabid hockey fan myself, but rather detest the B’s. Boooooo!)

Sorry, back to the subject of ballet.

The doors weren’t yet open, so we hung out in the foyer, people-watching and admiring the architecture. The doors finally opened and, although this probably isn’t great for the ballet, I so appreciated the fact that it was much tamer than the last time I came to see BB (for the nutty Nut). There was no mad jostling or shoving. I was able to stop at the merchandise stand and pick out a beautiful little souvenir for myself:

Who can resist that darling tee? I saw it online and knew I had to have it. Oh, and my subscriber card got me 20% off the price… Perks and bennies!

Seriously, I’m not usually a “gotta-get-the-T-shirt” sorta gal, but this was just so gorgeous I would consider wearing it outside of dance class! Blue (my favorite color) with that stunning graphic image of the upside-down tree and the words woven in so subtly… all in a lovely, soft, fitted, V-neck. Come to me, my pretty!

T-shirt procured, we proceeded to the mezzanine and stopped at the bar for some pre-show refreshments. Because nothing says high class like booze and M&M’s! Although the bartender did whip me up what may be my new favorite drink: Kahlua and Bailey’s on the rocks. Oh YUM!

Since it was still somewhat quiet, we stopped to sip overlooking the lobby, admiring the gorgeous ceiling and sweeping staircase and gilding and such. It’s always nice, when you have the time, to drink in the atmosphere along with your refreshments!

We took our seats up in the mezzanine. Seats weren’t quite as great as I’d been hoping. While I like the vantage point from higher up, our seats were towards the right side, so the wings and part of the stage on our side were obscured. I’ll have to remember this for next time I order!

Time to settle in with the program. As you can guess from the title, this was an evening of pieces choreographed by Jiří Kylián, the Czech-born choreographer in residence and artistic advisor (and former director) of the Nederlands Dans Theater who has been creating pieces since 1970. Boston Ballet has performed works of his previously, but the three on this bill were all BB premieres this season.

I knew going into this that Kylián is not big on the program notes thing. He prefers people to view and come to their own conclusions about the pieces. Which is cool, especially with abstract works, but my inner plebian comes out with some of these when I all I seem to get out of it is, “That was cool.” I hope he’s okay with people just thinking his stuff is cool without coming away with some sort of major message.

I found this particularly true of the first piece, “Wings of Wax” (1997). This is the piece with the giant upside-down tree featured on the T-shirt. And that’s pretty much the first thing you see when the curtain goes up. Giant tree with a spotlight orbiting it. At first I found myself a bit transfixed watching the light, but it soon faded into the scenery. There were four couples in this. For the most part when they weren’t actively dancing they stood upstage in the shadowy part of the stage, but rarely left the stage completely. The dancers were all costumed in black. The men in black shirts and pants. The women in black unitards (two of them in tanks, two of them with long, but sheer sleeves). I don’t remember much in particular about the choreography, but I did get a glimpse of what I think may be Kylián’s signature style (as I saw it echoed in the subsequent pieces)… that of fluidity and an almost one-ness of the partners.

What struck me about his choreography was how… modern it was. When I think of contemporary ballet I tend to think of ballet in a less classical form. I suppose that sounds self-evident. But I’m thinking Balanchine, for example. Still very much ballet, but with a pared-down costuming to highlight the lines moreso than the emotion, sparse sets to highlight the dance rather than the story, but still with an emphasis on length, height, UP. Modern I tend to think of as being very grounded, danced close-to-the-floor, with the stage not just being the place of the dance, but a part of the dance. Lifts are not simply to provide height, but to move a partner and make a gesture. I also think think of modern as expressing emotions quite strongly and even violently. The hands and the face are a vital part of the dance. Partners may push and pull one another instead of simply using each other for support. I also think of modern technique as being more amenable to the avant-garde, and I felt that Kylián fell easily into the realm of avant-garde.

So, while I suppose I could be annoyed with myself for not picking up as much of the meaning of “Wings of Wax” as I might have liked, I think this was, in many ways, a perfect opening piece for an evening of all Kylián. It introduced his style very nicely and prepared me for what was to come.

Intermission one, in which I wonder what exactly they do with the tree (does it go up and hang out in the rafters? or do they have to take it down, and if so how do they keep from breaking the branches/roots? hm…. enquiring minds want to know!). And I watch as new flooring peeks out from underneath the curtain and gets adjusted.

Next up: “Tar and Feathers” (2006). BB is (according to the program notes) the first American company to perform this work. The flooring I mentioned is one of the first things you notice as the curtain rises. It is a very shiny marley – the left side of the stage (as you’re facing it) is black, while the right side is white. On the black side, upstage, is a piano on 10-foot tall stilts. Tomoko Mukaiyama is the pianist and apparently the only person in the world who has accompanied this piece when it is performed. I wonder if she’s the only one willing to perform while perched on a rather small platform up in the air! On the left side is a large, lit up… well, what vaguely resembles a polar bear lying down on its stomach… but it’s made out of bubble wrap and lit up in white light. There is also one couple on each side. On the white side the female dancer starts moving towards the bubble wrap mound and some very frightening growling noises come out of nowhere, causing me to jump in my seat. She has a very fierce face and a piece of bubble wrap in her hand that she twice twists with a violent glee. In my mind I referred to her, throughout the piece, as “the predator.” No idea if that’s what the choreographer intended, but there you go.

For the first half or so, the two couples danced on their own side of the line and I began to wonder about the symbolism of this divide. What did the couple on the black marley side represent? Why was the female on the white marley side so angry and why was the male so passive? And what was the role of the other female who joined them? Eventually there was some crossover and there was a section later where two men crawled out, mostly using their arms to propel them and the woman stood with one foot on each of their backs… made me think of a musher and her sled dogs… either that or some crazy sort of elliptical machine.

While I’m not sure I quite “got” the story or what was being portrayed, this piece definitely pulled me in moreso than the first. I found the various elements fascinating and couldn’t help but marvel at how everything comes together. What did the choreographer think of first? The flooring influenced the dance as it was slippery as well as shiny and allowed the dancers to have more of a sliding quality to their dance. He couldn’t have choreographed it without the special floor. But the floor also played a part in the lighting. Towards the end of the piece the lighting hit the floor so that it reflected onto the black backdrop, silhouetting one of the dancers, but also reflecting the floor itself looking like a reflection from a rippling stream. This wasn’t the only part where the lighting had a role, though. In the beginning you notice a band of white light across the top of the backdrop, except for one spot that reminds me of a sputtering flourescent bulb, the kind that drives you absolutely nuts because of its flickering. At first I thought it WAS a faulty light, until the band of light moved down the backdrop to span across the middle rather than the top and you could see the full effect of this one color-shifting light. And then there’s the music. Not only the elevated (and, according to one article I read, tilted) Steinway, but the fact that Mukaiyama is THE accompanist. There is some music in the piece that is a formal composition (Mozart, I believe), but there is a portion that is pure improvisation. I had to wonder, after 6 or 7 years of performing this, is it really improvisation anymore? Does she really play something different each time? And if so, how do the dancers deal with changing music? Do they just dance and she follows along? There was one point where Mukaiyama stood up and appeared to look over the piano at the couple dancing on the other side of the stage and I wondered if she was looking to them to lead her in selecting the notes. So many questions on this piece.

I couldn’t help but take a peek at the Boston Globe review of All Kylián even though I knew I would get angry (I’m sure the critic is a lovely person, but I’ve disagreed with her on every review I’ve read). This was no different. She felt this piece was contrived and too modern, apparently. I can see how this piece might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but when the curtain went down I felt a bubbling curiousity. There was something here that spoke to me. I’ve seen plenty of modern dance that I felt took itself too seriously and tried way too hard, but this piece was not one of them. I felt there was a strong dose of humor mixed in with the ferocity. It was weird, sure. But I find a lot of the classical story ballets rather weird, too. I would rather like to see “Tar and Feathers” again. From a different vantage point (maybe a little closer to stage!) with all these questions in mind, to see what, if any, answers I come up with.

Second intermission. Phew. Much-needed mental break.

Then the final, and also the oldest, piece: “Symphony of Psalms” (1978). The backdrop for this is made up of a plethora of reddish-colored Persian rugs. The women are in dresses in muted, grey-ish colors. The men are in black pants and grey-ish shirts. While not exciting costumes, somehow it works with the vibrant backdrops. There are four wooden chairs upstage, stage right. The feeling I got from this was almost… I dunno, a European cousin to Ailey’s Revelations. Not sure if I can explain what I mean. I guess I think of Revelations as being an expression of the spirituality and vibrancy of the African American religious tradition. Symphony of Psalms had a similar representation of spirituality, but I felt it was a much more somber, perhaps Puritanical tradition that was expressed. The kneeling and prostration seemed less of an exultation in God’s glory but more of a self-flagellation… I say this as an atheistic person with rather scant knowledge of the world’s religions, so I probably should stop babbling. But that was the feeling I got.

Now a note about the ending of all of this. Nothing to do with the dancers, the choreographer, or the venue, but everything to do with the audience… I was appalled at how many people got up and left at the moment the curtain came down on this piece, before the performers even had a chance to take their bows. Absolutely appalled. To me that is the epitome of rudeness. It is saying to the people who have dedicated hours upon hours of rehearsal, set design, costuming, etc., “You are not important to me.” Hey, now maybe you hated the show. Maybe Kylián makes you want to vomit. Fine. You can feel howsoever you want. That is your right. But regardless of your feelings, you can at least respect the time and work the company, musicians, and house staff put into the production and salute them. Rushing off to catch the train or get your car out of the parking garage before everyone else is simply rude and unnecessary. As a performer, I would be crushed to look out on the audience as I was taking my bows and see everyone rushing for the exits. To me that says, “You are not worthy of my time.” It kind of ruined an otherwise lovely evening.

Back to the show. Was BB’s choice to present a full evening of one, quite distinctive, choreographer a bit risky? Sure. But I think BB presented it stunningly. The three pieces chosen highlighted Kylián’s evolution as a choreographer (though not in a chronological order). I feel as though there are similar elements among the pieces, particularly in his style of dance, but he is in no way repetitive and each is unique. I came away with a huge amount of respect for him along with heightened admiration for the dancers who clearly threw themselves into this very challenging work and pulled it off superbly.

Check out the trailer here:

And a fascinating interview and rehearsal scenes here… I got to see the beautiful Whitney Jensen perform the night I was there. What an incredible dancer!