In recent years, the National Ballet of Canada has made quite a name for itself by commissioning or performing modern dance works with very unusual attributes -- a live onstage choir in one case, the dancers impersonating insects in another. And who can forget the tap-dancing Mad Hatter in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland? Let's face it, NONE of these works were "typical" of what most people picture when they hear the word "ballet".
This week, another unique new concept arrived on the stage of the Four Seasons Centre in Toronto: a ballet danced by three men and one woman wearing cowboy boots.
Yup, you dang well better believe you heard me right, pardner!
Actually, though, the cowboy boots were only one aspect of only one work in a particularly interesting and stimulating quadruple bill of short ballets. This was one of the most fascinating and involving mixed programmes I can recall seeing from the National in many years.
The first work, Jorma Elo's Pur ti miro, was a commission three years ago. I missed it at the time, and was very glad to have a chance to see it. The music is Beethoven and Monteverdi, the dress is classic ballet (tutus and tights), and the choreography is -- well, I guess "quirky" would be a good word -- but make no mistake, it's both exciting and enjoyable. In the first section (finale of Beethoven's Violin Concerto) the movement is mainly classical ballet with only a few odd moments that suggest the devilish horns peeking out from behind the classic mask. The second, a duet set to Monteverdi's opera duo Pur ti miro, is much more experimental, and the finale lets it rip all the way -- while still, interestingly, keeping connected to the classic tradition. The final movement uses Beethoven's rare, grand concert overture Die Weihe des Hauses which I have written about in my companion blog on rare classical music, offthebeatenstaff.blogspot.com.
The second ballet was titled simply No. 24, and was set to the 24th and final Caprice for solo violin by Paganini. This piece is a series of fiendishly complex variations on a well-known tune. Guillaume Cote (a principal dancer with the National Ballet) choreographed the work for a male and female dancer in 2010, and this was its first mainstage appearance. I found it a bit uneven. Some of the variations were partnered by choreography which reflected the character of the music, but in others it seemed as if Cote had been unable to find movements suitable to the sound. Indeed, the one violinist produces such a torrent of complex notes near the end that it seems almost as if the couple on stage ought to be joined by many more dancers! Speaking of which, having the violinist on stage is an understandable choice -- but in this case, not effective. The player's gymnastic exertions often pull the focus away from the dancers.
The third work was James Kudelka's The Man in Black, set to six songs covered late in life by Johnny Cash. Need I say that this is where the cowboy boots came in? The songs were a diverse lot, ranging from the Beatles to Gordon Lightfoot to Bruce Springsteen. What was interesting was to hear the deeper resonance that the older Johnny Cash's recorded voice drew out of these songs, finding layers of meaning in them that the original artists were likely too young to be able to elucidate. Kudelka's choreography used some typical steps of country and western dancing as a starting point, but then evolved organically into much more complex tableaus and movements that always served to deepen the emotional impact of the music. It's rare to find in modern dance a work where the music and the dance twine so closely to heighten each other throughout the piece.
Of course, dancing in cowboy boots is quite an experience for feet used to dance slippers and pointe shoes. Rebekah Rimsay, who danced the sole woman among three men on the opening night, said in an interview that she was getting new blisters on her feet, in different places from her pointe shoe blisters! Actually, it was interesting to observe that there really seemed no particular reason why there should have been three men and one women. The dancing was very ungendered, and seemed to me that it could equally well have been three women and one man, or any other combination you care to name. That, I think, is another special aspect of Kudelka's unique achievement in this piece.
The final work was also the most classical, but with a difference. George Balanchine was famous for his evocation of the classical tradition within a strict abstract context. His most famous works, such as Theme and Variations, do not tell a story of any kind. They may suggest a general context, but the choreography is devoted entirely to representing the music through movement. What a difference from the classical story ballets!
Even so, Theme and Variations (although it is very beautiful) is not one that I would rank among Balanchine's highest achievements. Much of the work is danced by a single couple and a small corps de ballet of 12 women. Only in the finale (the one really grand variation of the Tchaikovsky score) do 12 men come to join the cast. And I think the fault is really Tchaikovsky's. The variation movement of his third Suite for Orchestra is among his lesser-known creations, and I would say with reason. It's beautiful, cleanly written, but from the opening theme it has a kind of two-dimensional quality which lacks interest. Even the grand final polonaise deteriorates into a simple phrase repeated over and over. Balanchine did far better and more interesting work when he set a ballet on Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings, which is unquestionably out of the composer's top drawer.
Throughout the evening, the dancers were on top form. Each cast made out the strongest possible case for the works they danced, and each cast earned the warm applause they received. In the first and last works, the National Ballet Orchestra played with warmth, precision, and fire. Two different violin soloists (in Beethoven and Paganini) and two singers (in Monteverdi) made effective contributions to the evening.
Taken as a whole, this mixed bill was an uncommonly stimulating evening of dance. No question, though, that The Man in Black drew the deepest and most heartfelt reaction from the audience. It's the sort of piece that you feel you could get much more out of by watching it again -- and again....
No comments:
Post a Comment