by Leigh Witchel
The injuries and substitutions at New York City Ballet have made for a rocky climb. Yet for those who were still in action for the final program of the Stravinsky Festival, there was a silver lining of performance opportunity, whether in a debut or role they’ve claimed as their own.
Anthony Huxley was back onstage, squiring Indiana Woodward on her first outing in “Duo Concertant.” She’s a good height for him and they partnered well. He’s conscientious; she’s low maintenance.
In the opening Huxley and Woodward watched and listened to the musicians, Arturo Delmoni on violin and Elaine Chelton on piano. The dancers zoned out once or twice, which is really what happens when you watch and listen, but not what you want when people are watching you watch. Huxley and Woodward had decent chemistry; Huxley related to her and smiled, something he’s had to work for.
Delmoni and Chelton were playing at a brisk tempo, but by the end of the first movement Woodward and Huxley looked energized from the driving pace instead of tired. The dance is filled with petit allegro, particularly in the Gigue, where Huxley did gorgeous beats and Woodward’s pointe work matched them.
But the ballet, one of Balanchine’s most sentimental, requires, if not acting, the creation of a mood. When Huxley offered his hand to Woodward, she refused it mischievously. Instead of playing along, Huxley took her seriously and asked again with more weight. The final dumb show about a muse found, lost and found is all acting. Neither have yet found the presence to stand in for all artists and their inspirations, but they pulled it off.
“Divertimento from Le Baiser de la Fée” was Balanchine’s last utterance on a work he also did in full. He was never satisfied with the final scene of the hero’s eternal climb, something that he may have simply been born too early to have the stage technology for what he envisioned.
For the 1972 Stravinsky Festival, he pared back to a dance suite, but one with a strange tone from the removed Gothic tale of a young man marked by destiny. Structurally, the new work was familiar, it’s what Balanchine also did for his last treatment of “La Source”: a pas de deux with multiple variations extended by corps entries. Only here to Stravinsky and with added foreboding.
The corps began the ballet. In almost all of the Stravinsky Festival ballets, but especially here, you can see the hints of the late Balanchine style – corps phrases packed with movement, action and a sharp attack – that presaged the Martins era in the company. Tiler Peck entered for a moment of quiet, bowing and introducing herself to us.
The top rank of men has been thin, right now it’s shaved almost bald. Still, the company has slotted Joseph Gordon as a leading man, and there’s reason: he looks believable in both prince and poet roles.
The opening of Peck and Gordon’s duet is all pointe work and changing positions, but the roles are closer to equal than Poseable Doll and Moving Man. Many times, the two did the same step. Gordon did beautiful beats and quick, accurate turns. His weakness has been partnering; he had Peck way off her leg in a turn towards the end of their duet. She just held the finish anyway.
He also has a tendency to punch steps hard, but the male solo, one of Balanchine’s most interesting for its nervous mystery, can handle that attack. Gordon also used his épaulement well when he did turns that flipped into attitude, and made something of the final lap round the stage, pitching himself into assemblé and slowly brushing the ground several times before windmilling off.
From good to great: Peck has had a string of major performances the last few months. She nailed her solo. Every change of direction, all the eccentric pointe work and tricky turns to a swivel on flat to end. She’s found a niche in repertory that uses her speed and detailed technique without asking for more line than she has.
The end of the ballet is a study in changing moods. The corps started it off, stomping in piqués. Gordon shot out in jetés and Peck wound round in one piqué turn after another. The music slowed down and Peck gave face and sold drama, but from a story no longer there. In a divertissement, especially where the story is not one everybody knows, that can be a mystery.
Gordon and Peck raced to one another, then towards us. Breaking away, then returning, she plunged on him, grabbing his waist. The harmonies in the brass recalled the final vinegary hymn in “Orpheus.” The women traveled through them as they embraced, and they searched for each other through a diagonal of the corps. They finished separated, backing out in opposite directions towards an uncertain future. That reflects the most interesting change from the full version: this divertissement balances out the leads. It’s not just the man’s story.
Another great performance – Sterling Hyltin’s Novice in “The Cage” was one of her best. She dug into the story and transformed herself.
Her characterization was both detailed and logical. When first introduced, she staggered and shrunk back. Flopping down to the stage, pushing her foot sharply out to test it, she portrayed the confusion of being so inexperienced. When Jonathan Fahoury appeared as the first intruder, she sensed immediate danger, and didn’t kill him in rage, but in a nervous fit impelled by Stravinsky’s slashing strings.
Andrew Veyette made his debut as the second intruder and made good use of his partnering skills. She knew he had her, and didn’t need to worry. You rarely see Hyltin push as she did. Both she and Veyette left being human behind, standing facing us, screaming open-mouthed during the pangs in the cellos.
Also making her debut, Isabella LaFreniere used her height and leaned way out over her pointes to exaggerate her attack. It created her authority; when Hyltin killed once again, she checked with LaFreniere what to do, and then jumped on Veyette, climbing on top to mate.
It will never stop being ironic that ballets with questionable worldviews can provoke amazing performances. “The Cage” is Robbins’ mildly paranoid horror tale of male rape. That may indeed be a thing for praying mantises. It’s an exaggerated fear for most men.
In a debut as the lead ballerina in “Rubies,” debut, Erica Pereira was a little wonky on her angles, but still hit a personal best in a tough role. She was also onstage with two dancers who had already done their parts, and were giving career-defining performances. Roman Mejia is close to perfectly cast in “Rubies.” He’s a Force dancer who can do Line; macho without being a thug. Here, he was unleashed to throw caution to the wind.
The most memorable moment for her and Mejia was later in their duet when he bounced her on his thighs. They got the tone right so it was neither dirty nor prissy. She didn’t lose control to him, which kept it on tone, and after that she gained confidence, pushed harder, plunged forward, and he caught her.
In the soloist part, Mira Nadon, who went in for Emily Kikta, served so much glamour she might as well have been wearing long gloves. She gave Audrey Hepburn face, with a perfect pursed puss and legs that went WHACK. Instead of emphasizing the plié in second position on her first movement exit, she went for a long, low penché balance, especially the last one, where her legs told the time. It was about five minutes to six.
In our era, “Rubies” can look rapey if the women look uncomfortable. Pereira avoided that pitfall. Nadon went farther. She approached the four men who manipulated her limbs as if she were a French supermodel and they were her wardrobe assistants. She stared them down, let them flip her upside down, then stared at us from that improbable position to say bonsoir.
In the finale, Mejia was soaring and having a blast, but also varying his attack from rocket ship to soft shoe. Pereira got to where she could go for broke, until the awful piqués with retracted arms where so many ballerinas wipe out. But she made them.
Nadon came out with glamour and abandon, slapping flat footed, or flying through splits. Later on not only did she throw her legs up as if they were steel-cored taffy, she differentiated each kick: quick whacks and leisurely whacks. She invited Pereira and Mejia back for the final measures as if she were Mistress of Ceremonies. Because she was.
Even in a season that’s been an uphill battle (or a siege), there have been good and great performances. From those still standing.
copyright © 2022 by Leigh Witchel
“Divertimento from Le Baiser de la Fée,” “The Cage,” “Duo Concertant,” “Rubies” – New York City Ballet
Lincoln Center, New York, NY
May 12, 2022
Cover: Sterling Hyltin in “The Cage.” Photo credit © Paul Kolnik.
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