Saturday Matinee

Ballet Preljocaj’s Les 4 Saisons

Ballet Preljocaj is stopping by California to present their Les 4 Saisons (The Four Seasons) choreographed by Angelin Preljocaj, set to the music of well known Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. I’m always wary of when I hear about choreography to really well known music, masterpieces in themselves really. Normally, this would really bother me, but I have a soft spot for this Vivaldi’s colorful piece, yet a certain amount of distance from it. I didn’t grow up with it like I did Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos, for example. I was especially intrigued by what Preljocaj himself had to say about choreographing to such a well known piece. Taken from his website:

Can the music – so well known, so conventional, so gone astray – can it indeed still deliver more surprises, more gray zones, more secrets?

And so, we shall see. His words give me hope. I also have a fondness for Preljocaj’s choreography – his work was the first work I ever reviewed for my dance criticism class back in college, and one of the first modern pieces I really saw. His Annonciation was particularly lovely. The sets do cause me to worry, however – the Santa outfit? For winter? Really??

Ballet Preljocaj at the Mondavi Center on Friday, April 17. Click here for more information.

My full review here.

What a treat! I went to an informal conversation with Philip Glass (led by Tim Page) and got to ask him a question. I told him that my first experience with his music was with Twyla Tharp’s “In the Upper Room”, and was wondering what he thought of seeing his music in dance form. He then started talking about his experience with dance in his lifetime for a while, starting with his days in Juilliard. His thinking was rather economical, as he thought, who will always need my music?  And his answer was, dancers and theaters will always need music. And so he wrote for dancers. He mentioned Jose Limon and Martha Graham at Juilliard, but he said he didn’t write for them, but for their students. He also mentioned that he would have liked to have been a dancer himself; he was in awe of using your body as the ultimate physical art form. The closest he got was he was touring with Lucinda Childs’ dance company and they allowed him to take ballet class with the dancers, at age 42. He jumped at the chance, much to the entertainment of the dancers. He said he was fine except for the combinations because his specialty was music memory, not muscle memory. This made everyone laugh.

It’s funny how sometimes we think artists do things to serve their art, but often the reasons are economical. He said he controls who accesses his scores because he makes his living performing his own music and doesn’t want others to rob him of his livelihood. 

There were other questions on his movie music, and lots of other talk on minimalism, classical music, and “ideology” in music but I need to get ready for the concert tonight.

Philip Glass on the right, in conversation.

ABT II breezed into the Mondavi Center on Friday night, bringing a refreshing breath of youthful exuberance with it. ABT II is the training program for the world famous American Ballet Theatre, with its pick of the most promising ballet dancers in the world. It’s a great look into the future of ballet and its upcoming stars, with everyone between the ages of 16-20. A well rounded program was offered, showcasing both the strengths of the small company as well as showing the world how they can handle difficult (and diverse) repertory. The small company took huge risks as they can afford to with its talented roster, but as with all risks, some worked better than others.

The biggest success of the night was Jerome Robbins’ Interplay capitalizing on the company’s youth, with its whimsical concept of kids at play. Dressed in bright primary colors suggesting youth from the very beginning, a boy waves to another. A sense of playfulness pervades as the dancers constantly relate to each other, with boys playing leapfrog and other childhood games, with lightning quick moves and offbeat surprises. A competitive spirit adds to the fun, as Joseph Gorak shows off his langorous lines, an arresting stage presence, and a level of artistry seen more in more experienced dancers. A collaborative group chemistry completes this fun romp to perfection.

The rest of the program worked on many different levels, but a part of my problem is that I unrealistically expected it to be a mini-ABT. Their infectious energy withstanding, the performance was still riddled with tenuous turns, a few nail-biting slip ups, and a whirlwind of difficult technical steps without shape or direction. This however undoubtedly will be ironed out with performing experience and the passage of time.  Balanchine’s Allegro Brilliante was a courageously daring endeavor; its difficulty and the effort it required was unfortunately visible as steps were whipped out at breakneck speeds with the transparent intent of getting them over with, instead of responding organically to the music. Despite the piece’s technical difficulties, the soloist Sae-Eun Park was a long-legged wonder, with a lightness and a pleasing airiness in her dancing, with Jose Sebastian was her noble partner. The Swan Lake Act II pas de deux and the Don Quixote pas de deux followed in the second half of the program, with a very sassy performance by Meaghan Hinkis in Don Quixote. Petipa’s Carnival of Venice closed the program showcasing the ability of this group to tackle classical repertory, which brought the evening to a celebratory end.

This group offers great hope for the future of ballet, with flashes of brilliant artistry peeking through already at such a young age. It was a great way to experience a top notch ballet company outside of their home state of New York. And Helgi, can we bring Joseph Gorak home for Christmas?? That would be wonderful. Newly hired Isaac Hernández joined San Francisco Ballet recently from ABT II.

Hm, this picture doesn’t look like ABT II but it’s listed that way. Pretty pose, no?

ABT II continues their tour. Click here for their website.

Mondavi Arts

Here to see ABT II – nice to see some ballet after a very long but productive week.

Overheard in the audience at a Merce Cunningham Dance Company performance:

“I wish I understood what was going on.”

“Oh, you’re not supposed to be able to.”

Can a look into another person’s eyes, ever be just a look – a movement of the eyeballs, and not a connection? Can an outstretched hand ever be just that, without the connotations of reaching desire? Can a frenzied turn be dissected into a turn apart from its frenziness? If I close my eyes at a dance performance, am I transported to a music concert? If a dance is performed with a different set (or lighting or costumes), is it a different dance? Can movement ever be completely devoid of meaning? Is meaning and intention in a movement, all in my own head?

The Merce Cunningham Dance Company continues to inspire more questions than anything else, as I questioned about everything I knew about art and performance. Cunningham plays on the theme of chance, even picking audience members to throw a die for the second piece, Split Sides, in which an even and odd die throw determined the order of the music, choreography, set, costumes, and lighting. Cunningham manages to take a reductionist view on performance, breaking almost every aspect of dance performance and mixing them together in infinite possibilities. The music for Split Sides was composed by Radiohead and Sigur Ros for each “act” – when there was a sound technical glitch and a very loud noise was heard, many in the audience wondered if it was a part of the show. When so much is up to chance, aren’t wobbles and technical difficulties included in the game of chance and included in a great performance?

The evening opened with MinEvent with Kronos Quartet, made recently this year in 2008. A big highlight was having the Kronos Quartet play live, positioned around the auditorium with one of the violinists sitting uncomfortably close, about 2 feet from where I was sitting. The music was set to John Cage – it must take confidence to play John Cage, to be confident that you’re supposed to be playing at the moment you’re playing. I’m used to being told when to play, I suppose. It’s interesting that for dance choreography that’s so anti-musical, that a great deal is spent is providing the best music possible for a performance. I personally was much happier to have seen the Kronos Quartet than to put my ipod on and experience a performance that way (in eyeSpace, also being performed by Merce Cunningham on tour).

There was a brief post performance discussion, the highlight of which Merce Cunningham himself came out to speak. It wasn’t a big surprise at how intellectually philosophical he is – in speaking of the different aspects of performance that he isolates and rearranges (choreography, sets, music, lighting), he compared it to the fact that in life, we do one thing in the presence of unintentional sounds and backgrounds and lighting. Each aspect of our lives don’t necessarily have to “mean” something or correlate in any way, and he didn’t see how dance couldn’t be the same way. Along this vein, MinEvent could have been played to John Cage’s infamous 4’3″ (in which it’s performed in complete silence in three movements) and it still would have fit. It also amazed me that the dancers explained how they learn choreography in complete silence. As a dancer, it seems so wrong. but equally impressive that the dancers are able to separate different components of performance and to adapt to different stage environments.

Merce Cunningham Dance Company is so unique, it’s impossible to view it with the same standards as I do to other dance performances. I’ve always wanted to see them live, and it was an eye opening and engaging experience.

Normally, the sound of pointe shoes is unintentional accompaniment to dance performances. Here, there is a pointe shoe xylophone in the pit (made by Sigur Ros)

I saw another dance legend! This week has been dance-legend-filled. Merce Cunningham himself, second from the left, in the wheelchair (sorry the picture is so horribly washed out, I went directly from work and didn’t have my camera). How many more will I see before the week is out?? I hope Mark Morris is in the house tomorrow -

Episodes, Flowers, and Revelations

The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater stormed into the Mondavi Center in Davis last week as a stop of their 50th anniversary tour. To me, Alvin Ailey Dance Theater signifies the quintessential American dance company, with a dance form that’s deeply rooted in American culture. The dancers are a marvel – a mixture of power and grace, strength and beauty, reminding everyone of how dance should never fully be about technique but be so much more than that. The lighting seemed specifically designed to highlight every muscle in the body, which added to their strength and power as you saw their graceful bodies in action. The programming was so serious and somber, but Revelations ended the evening on a high note, and it was a great introduction to this amazing company.

The evening opened with a abstract Episodes, choreographed by Ulysses Dove, which showcased the company’s powerful energy. It was a great introduction to the company’s passion and strength, as the piece was about opposites – strength and grace, surrender and aggression, anger and lust, showcased in a series of tumultuous relationships. A hug turns into a slap, an aggressive attack turns into a vulnerable backbend where the woman drapes herself over his strong supportive arms. There is lots of turning away and running back. It struck me how rare it is to find a title that fits the piece well; this piece was a series of episodes, snapshots of various drama-filled relationships. Linda Celeste Sims stood out with her fiery passionate stage presence, oddly more than in her solo in the subsequent piece, Flowers. The result is heavy, dramatic, slightly repetitive, and although it’s not completely original, it showcased the company very well.

The second piece was the new production of Alvin Ailey’s Flowers, inspired by the life of Janis Joplin and depicting her downward spiral in a life of fame, drugs, and paparazzi. Set to the music of Janis Joplin, Blind Faith and Pink Floyd, it was set in the colorful sixties with a strong plotline depicting the lead character’s downward spiral from fame to ruin. To me, this piece really brought to mind the limitations of a strongly plot-driven choreography – the story, in addition to the overpowering costumes, often limited the dancing to writhing on the floor or desperately reaching out to the other dancers onstage in order to propel the plot, without enough dancing. The only section which I thought depicted emotion well through the dancing was in the pas de deux between the drug dealer/boyfriend/Satan/death character (all characters that two of my friends and I came up with, no one was quite sure who he was meant to be) danced by Clifton Brown in a sharp modern black pants and button down with reflective aviator sunglasses, dancing with the passionate Linda Celeste Brown as the lead character. Their pas de deux fluctuated dangerously between the subtle and not-so-subtle struggle of power, desire, and control through movement in a conceptual but transparent way. The rest of the piece however, seemed to signify her downfall in cliche emotive movements that made the piece feel like it could have been shorter in order to make its point. The colorful costumes were often overwhelming, especially the cape in the dream sequence where most of the time it felt like she and the other dancers were adjusting it in order for no one to trip on it. It had some great elements of good choreography, but it wasn’t my favorite piece. The dancers were outstanding however, and Linda Celeste Brown was a great character actor and passionate dancer, although it was harder to see wrapped in those costumes.

The evening ended with the uplifting Revelations. It was everything I had heard it to be and more. Set to the music of traditional spirituals with choreography by Alvin Ailey, the dancers delved into the choreography with sparkling familiarity, as if they were born to dance in this piece. It reminded me of the enthusiastic confidence that the State Ballet of Georgia danced Possohkov’s Sagalobeli set to the traditional music of their homeland Georgia, where it felt like the dancers were home. The dancers were again, outstanding – Hope Boykin with warmth as the ringleader in “I Been ‘Buked”, Vernard Gilmore with fluid grace in “Wade in the Water”. But my favorite was Alicia Graf in the moving “Fix Me, Jesus”, danced with Jamar Roberts. With amazing stage presence, it wasn’t her famous mile long extensions or dramatic height or her balletic feet that grabbed my attention as much as the fact that she imbued every movement with a stunning musicality and a depth of sadness. In “Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham”, Alicia Graf attacked the shoulder shrugs and the mad fanning with equal enthusiasm and ease as the balletic aspects of “Fix Me, Jesus”, as I happened to be sitting in the front row on her side of the stage. I really think she will be the next big thing, and would have loved to have seen her in showcased in a longer piece.

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In all, it was a wonderful evening that left me looking forward to what Alvin Ailey Dance Theater could do next. Although Episodes and Flowers were heavy and somber and dramatic, the pieces still showcased the company’s dramatic strength and passion. Their dancers dance with a breathtaking power and unrestrained passion that’s universal, with an appeal to dance lovers and dance newbies alike. This 50th anniversary tour also seems more poignant in the face of the news that its artistic director, Judith Jamison, is set to retire in the next few years. She has been essential to leading to where AADT is today, and it opens up the question to who will continue Alvin Ailey’s legacy after her departure. One can only hope that Alvin Ailey Dance Theater will continue the fresh, contemporary feel of its dancing and its amazing legacy.

I got another chance to see the amazing Joshua Bell. i saw him last year in a recital setting. this time, he was with the legendary Academy St. Martin in the Fields, where he led them in Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.

For quite a while, I’ve been trying to put my finger on the musical style of Joshua Bell. I know that he’s very musical, but in a much more unexpected way. For me, the ultimate musician in terms of musicality is Yo Yo Ma – a cellist whose heartwrenching musicality is always so moving. He’s always a joy to listen to. but Josh Bell is so different – definitely musical, but not so much in an emotional way, but in a more of a clean, fresh, new way that engages your brain. Yo Yo Ma can move you to tears, but Joshua Bell makes you sit up and lean forward. Bell makes you hear a very trite passage (like the entire Four Seasons) in a very new way. I’ve heard the Four Seasons millions of times in my life, and tonight, I heard new submelodies I’ve never heard before, or another way of playing a passage by placing subtle accents in a unique way. Bell’s talent truly lies not only in his clean fresh style, but also in studying the piece of music before him and presenting it well to the audience.

Josh Bell was “conducting” and playing the violin solo both at the same time, conducting mostly through his body movements. This multitasking is more tenuous and difficult; in addition to the monstrous intricacies of the solo violin part, this really requires that a group listen and follow well. There was a moment in the summer movement when josh bell wasn’t so clear on one of the passages and I felt the whole ensemble falling apart for a scary few seconds. But the harpischord and the bass really came in well by compensating and then keeping the beat together. I was really impressed with the professionalism of the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. Their sound also sounds like one unit, not a group of separate entities.

I can’t help feeling that their performance here is a rehearsal for their performance tomorrow in SF. Oh well. I hope he comes back again next year.

Paul Taylor Modern Dance Company… this pose in “Promethean Fire”, which I believe is Paul Taylor’s reaction/interpretation of Sept 9/11. Wonderfully moving, with the demise of the entire cast in a heap of bodies with reaching hands, which then resurrect into rising hope. This pose was the final pose – with open arms, symbolizing hope and optimism for the future.

Previously, I saw the SF Ballet perform another Paul Taylor work, called Company B. Set to the music of the Andrews sisters, in WWII era costuming, it was very upbeat and happy music. However, in the dancing, Paul Taylor put in the angst of wartime and the “chill of bereavement”. For instance, in this one dance (still set to the upbeat voices of the Andrews sisters), this couple dances a wistful waltz without touching, just facing each other. Each time they repeat the dance, the distance between them growing further apart. And in the last few moments of the dance, the girl all of a sudden crouches in anguish… and the guy joins a line of men walking in the background, most likely symbolizing the lives lost in war. For some reason, the juxtaposition of such innocence in the music and the heavy subject matter made it more poignant and moving.

Eventide was another piece that was emotionally moving – in an interview, Paul Taylor said he believed all relationships to be doomed and never stay together, and Eventide reflects this. In the end, in the swirling dancing of individuals and couples melding together, you end up yearning, hoping, that these couples will stay together. It ends with the couples walking away from each other, arms reaching. Very sad.

I highly recommend you see Paul Taylor if you get the chance, and try to sneak into the third row like I did.