by Leigh Witchel
As always, performances at New York City Ballet look better on a second viewing. It was no different for the company’s all-Balanchine program. Your guess is as good as mine how much is them, and how much is us.
In Bourrée Fantasque, the corps looked as if someone had drilled it: unison sections were tight; port de bras happened together, fans got fanned en masse. Emilie Gerrity was much more on with Gilbert Bolden III in the long adagio.
Backing up to the first movement, putting KJ Takahashi and Emily Kikta was classic Mutt and Jeff casting, but they weren’t relying on sight gags. Both of them also timed well; they landed jokes without overacting, such as when Kikta bonked Takahashi’s head with her shoe or when he pleaded with her for a kiss.
Her character was both elegant and kind. When he grabbed her and hugged her waist, she didn’t give him any false hopes, but still remained sweet. And one thing Takahashi always delivers, including here: beautiful clear turns.
Victor Abreu wound up doing all the performances of the finale, here with Alexa Maxwell. Maxwell, still a contestant on Promote or Kill, feels more like the reality of a ballerina than the fantasy. She has strong technique, excellent facility and proportions, but being an all-rounder in a company where some people have insane technique, facility or proportions hasn’t enough to move her up, yet. What might be is a vivid stage presence and how ready she is when she hits the stage. You can’t imagine her ever seeming unprepared.
Both Anthony Huxley and Erica Pereira looked good in The Steadfast Tin Soldier. Huxley can be convincingly mechanical, bending and wobbling to the extreme, but snapping through his double tours. Pereira got the mechanical quality as well, with slightly creaky joints as she extended her leg. That flickered deliberately, there was a human concentration as she started a double turn, then happy clapping like the ratcheting of gears after she made the turn and landed. She also got the flickering change between her joy at things going well, and a sudden bump which made her wobbly.
Her doll had another human quality, a craven greed about continuously wanting more, which became a fatal pride that caused her to keep dancing. Pereira made a lot of the switches in mood, and they were well-planned.
Still, for all recent casts there has been a dramatic issue. There needs to be a moment before the doll goes into the fire when you can see she registers the danger. Pereira set some of it up from the beginning with her switches between stable and out of control that this could happen, but when it happens, everyone just runs into the fireplace and ducks out of the way. Even though we only see the woman’s back, it still needs to be an acting moment.
Peter Walker made the one debut that afternoon, partnering Megan Fairchild in the first movement of Symphony in C. On the rare occasions they give Fairchild a tall partner, she blossoms. Her opening was delicate and detailed, with clean turns, and it is so nice to see her with a man who can help her fly.
Walker is great in contemporary roles, but classical parts are good medicine. First movement is just outside of his wheelhouse and at the edge of his range, so it extended and helped keep him polished without breaking him. He kept his lines clean and classical, not easy for his lanky physique. In the finale, for some reason, he was making life harder for himself by doing his turns with his head tilted. Air turns took concentration, but he got them.
Second movement is smack dab at the bullseye of Sara Mearns’ range. She gave a big performance with a huge presence, very swoony, very adagio. There was a delicious finish to it when she went Full Metal Odette as she paused with a hint of heroic tragedy before tiptoeing forward. But if Suzanne Farrell had coached her as well as Nadon or Phelan, you could not have told. Mearns gonna Mearns.
If you could have taken your eyes off of Mearns as she gave a legendary performance, you should have watched Tyler Angle making it all possible. He saved her when a side extension threatened to tilt. He helped her keep stable when she went to 181° in the arabesque penchée. In the gorgeous swoons he was pretty much doing everything so she could concentrate on being soulful. If you wanted proof, you only needed to watch her in the reprise when she turned without a partner. Oh my.
In the final movement, Alston Macgill was not as on as she was her first time, but introducing the nasty motif turn that everyone has blown one time or another, that was as much luck as anything. She nailed her diagonal turns but Sanz saved her partnered turn.
Putting Roman Mejia in the third movement is nearly overcasting. It was done by greats such as Edward Villella, but now more often than not, it’s given to a short corps member or soloist. Mejia was sunny, elegant, ingratiating, and classical. The bright precision of the point work for the woman suited Emma Von Enck as well, but watching Mejia makes you want more luxury casting.
For someone so flashy, he still has taste. He did one-handed pops, tossing Von Enck skywards in the final diagonal without making a big deal of it. He’s likely smart enough to realize that if happens three times, you will eventually notice it.
The one ballet that didn’t change casts was Tzig . . . sorry, Errante. Mira Nadon had already gotten it down, getting a second look was just confirmation of how major she is.
The work is so much about Farrell and how Balanchine saw her. She was not just asked to personify a gypsy but the violin itself. The opening solo was a choreographed cadenza; a statement of a woman’s independence . . . as imagined by a man.
Partnering Nadon, Aarón Sanz was off-form that afternoon, with fidgety turns. But Nadon was monumental. Whirling, then stopping sharply and standing defiantly, her percussive, free musicality could stand on its own, without reference to Farrell.
Nadon spun through a risky combination of inside turns spotting front, then a clap, a spin and it was all done. She embodied the the spirit of the vagabond, as Balanchine saw Farrell. The ballet is not really about being a gypsy. It’s about being unownable.
copyright © 2024 by Leigh Witchel
Bourrée Fantasque, The Steadfast Tin Soldier, Errante, Symphony in C – New York City Ballet
Lincoln Center, New York, NY
May 5, 2024
Cover: Mira Nadon in Errante. Photo © Erin Baiano.
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