To see New York City Ballet with my own eyes this week has been immensely gratifying, but it hasn’t been without reminders of its apparent stagnancy. Last night the company presented four ballets, beginning with Barber Violin Concerto and The Infernal Machine by ballet master in chief Peter Martins, and ending with Allegro Brillante and Tschaikovsky Suite No.3 by George Balanchine. The dichotomy of choreographic talent couldn’t have been more obvious, and raises serious questions in regards to City Ballet’s future; which ballets warrant preservation? Which can be dropped from the repertory?
Even those of us who reside outside of New York have heard the rumblings over Martins’s work. Having never seen any of it, I couldn’t pass judgment until recently. At one time, for Martins to experiment with creating ballets and provide the company with a fair amount of new works was a wonderful thing, but the opportunities came with a responsibility to either fulfill a certain level of proficiency or step aside. Even from seeing only two ballets it’s evident that Martins never had the gift—Barber captures none of the finesse of Samuel Barber’s score and Infernal forces musicality uncomfortably to happen. Neither piece presents a coherent concept nor do they display any knowledge of the choreographic tools. There are of course, many paths towards aptitude; some are born with it, others pursue academic studies, or put themselves through a rigorous process of self-criticism. I’d be surprised if Martins has done any of the above due to his feeble use of space and motif in Barber, which juxtaposed two couples dressed in white, one in more classically styled ballet garb, the other plain, barefoot, and modern, with corresponding ideas in movement. Though principal Megan Fairchild provided some comic relief by harassing her partner like a pesky younger sibling, the humor contributed nothing to the piece as a whole.
Infernal, though completely different with its angsty, punctuated movements for two dancers dressed in black with odd, barely visible colored accents, is no better for its overwrought partnering and contrived modernity. Both are dated, forgettable, and vacate responsibility to the skill of the dancers themselves, who tried to make the work look decent, but it was in fact the work that is beneath them. In essence, Martins has written poor poetry with beautiful words and neither of these two needs to be kept in City Ballet’s permanent repertory. Given his inadequacies as a choreographer, it’s long past due that new choreographers—anyone—should be given the same opportunities to experiment as he did, for which there are surely many candidates who would die for the opportunity to work with such a world class company. Although it’s risky indeed, there’s no reason to deny the same chances for success and failure that Martins has been afforded. In the company’s illustrious past, Balanchine created hundreds of ballets and together with Jerome Robbins, made City Ballet the cutting edge, wellspring of new work—a far cry from what it is today. While the company now has a heritage to maintain, there is still plenty of room for growth, provided there is more shrewdness in selection. Certainly, more opportunities could be given to Justin Peck—earlier in the week I caught his In Creases, and very rarely have I seen a choreographer able to communicate something interesting so concisely. The hype about his work is absolute truth.
Meanwhile, if you’re a geek for Balanchine/Tchaikovsky like me, the latter half of the program was the main draw. First came Allegro Brillante, a short but bold ballet to the third movement of Tchaikovsky’s ‘Piano Concerto No.3’. It was the composer’s last work, a redrafting of an abandoned symphony that was published posthumously. A dance for a principle couple and four additional couples costumed in icy pastels, the opening melodies are mysterious and even a bit perilous, as the curtain rises on a swirling cyclone of eight dancers in pinwheel formation. It’s not all maelstrom though, as shortly after the lead couple enters, they engage in a rhapsodic pas de deux—light, breezy, and with a delicate aroma of romance. Principals Sara Mearns and Andrew Veyette displayed a refreshing vigor throughout, with Mearns a charismatic spirit with an uncanny ability to work ever so slightly off balance, and throw in an extra pirouette here and there. She brought a glinting danger to the role that was both thrilling and audacious, highlighting the adventurous nature of Allegro. Veyette in contrast was steady and sharp, mindful of his partner and quietly valiant. Both were resplendent in this piece where Balanchine was at his most classical. Beautifully laced with his idioms, his eye for patterns, and exceptional musicality, Allegro Brillante is the shooting star of City Ballet’s repertory and masterfully leaves the audience wanting more.
The appropriate closer was none other than Tschaikovsky Suite No.3, a four-movement ballet that incorporates the often independently performed Theme and Variations as the finale. Balanchine first choreographed Theme for American Ballet Theatre in 1947, making the revisions in 1970 with a change in title. The differences between Balanchine over the decades was night and day, made obvious in the first three movements through dreamy impressions, with women dressed in nightgowns, free flowing hair, and mostly barefoot. The movements are mellow and introspective, obscured by a misty screen and gossamer long skirts. While beautifully performed, the choreography is rather modest for Balanchine and grasps at a narrative that doesn’t exist, which renders the piece too long to maintain interest. Theme and Variations is better off on its own, because while the entire suite is of historical interest to balletomanes, thirty years since Balanchine’s death have made the complete suite largely irrelevant. The repetitious look of women in shimmery dresses and loose hair loses its novelty quickly, and the pink, purple, and white they wear are too saccharine. Ironically, the later additions look dated compared to the vibrancy of Theme and Variations (or rather, Tema con Variazioni in the suite), as the ballerinas donned traditional tutus with a rich color palette and detailed embellishments like Fabergé eggs, the men in complementary teal jackets originally designed by Nicolas Benois.
Principals Tiler Peck and Joaquin de Luz led the charge of radiance with charm and glittering precision, in a ballet that is as beautiful to watch as it is surely brutal to do. The lead woman must be self-assured and alluring, quick on her feet, and uphold a sense of decorum—all things Peck did with incredible ease and grandeur. As her partner, de Luz put on a dazzling display of technical perfection, where his refinement and immaculate technique said so much more than the difficulty of the steps themselves; rare is the danseur who can execute such tidy pirouettes and tours en l’air, in which he must jump into the air in a pencil straight position, turn twice, and land securely on both feet to continue a dizzying series of the aforementioned steps. They were adorable as individuals and together most affable, a remarkable performance of one of Balanchine’s most thunderous and astonishing ballets.
For more on the costumes of Tema con Variazioni, be sure to check out this video from New York City Ballet’s YouTube channel: