the danceview times
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Volume 1, Number 12 December 15, 2003 An online supplement to DanceView magazine
Letter from New York 15
December 2003. Mansaku
Nomura, the John Gielgud of classical Japanese theater, performed with
his son Mansai and his four or five year-old grandson Yuuki at Japan Society
this week in what, for me, was the finest example of the actor’s
art to be seen in New York since January 1982, when I last saw Nomura
at Asia House. Mansaku Nomura is a master of kyogen (“crazy word”)
drama: a six century-old, dialogue-based theater, comic in nature, that
developed contemporaneously with noh and is often performed as an interlude
between tragic or mystical noh plays. In this little season presented
by the Nomura family, the nightly programs of two 45-minute plays were
kyogen all the way—although, the night I attended, one of the two,
Kawakami (translated as Kawakami Headwaters), evoked smiles through
tears, and the other, Utsubozaru (The Monkey Skin Quiver), evoked
laughter through horror. Kawakami is about an elderly blind man
(Mansaku Nomura), who, to regain his sight, must promise to divorce his
beloved wife (played by Yukio Ishida, a former student of Mansaku’s
and now the head of his own noh/kyogen company). Utsubozaru concerns a
samurai (Mansai Nomura) who, about to go hunting, insists on wresting
a trained baby monkey from its trainer in order to skin it for its fur
to cover the quiver for his arrows. The baby monkey, played by Yuuki Nomura,
thinks that the stick being raised to brain it is actually a cue for it
to dance. The samurai, astonished at the monkey’s skill, relents
and keeps his quiver as it was. Letter from Bangkok 15
December 2003. Dancing
is ubiquitous in Bangkok, taking place on land and aboard river boats.
Gaining access to a particular performance,
however, can be difficult for visitors. An article in one of the city's
English language newspapers announced free seats for a Tibetan folk troupe,
Xigase, at the National Stadium's Nimibutr Hall. Finding the location
wasn't a problem since a terminal stop on one of the city's two skytrain
lines is called National Stadium and every map of Bangkok shows it prominently.
Entry into the hall, though, was a hurdle. Despite this being a free performance,
tickets were required and the paper hadn't mentioned that. All tickets
had already been handed out well before the day of the first performance,
December 5. With two other ticketless Americans, I was being turned away
brusquely by the ushers when some people with whom we'd been standing
in line took pity on us and 3 tickets appeared as if by magic or, rather,
by civility since the Thais are among the world's most hospitable people. A
celebration of George Balanchine:
Let’s Take a Trip and Playhouse 90: The Nutcracker By
Dale Brauner George Balanchine, born in the early years of the 20th century, was one of the great forward-thinking artists. As new technology emerged, he was quick to incorporate or use it. His works, such as Episodes and Agon, reflected an influence of the mechanical age. In the early years of the information age, Balanchine though originally skeptical saw the New York City Ballet perform his works regularly on television during the 1950s through the 1960s on the variety shows popular at the time. Although invaluable as lasting records, the performances on The Bell Telephone Hour, The Ed Sullivan Show and the Voice of Firestone were often filmed in less than ideal circumstances—cement floors, limited space, and last minute casting changes. In addition, the early recording equipment made the dancers’ noses appear long and their legs look short. Balanchine, who advanced the art of ballet in films in the 1930s, developed a strong relationship with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and was pleased with the results produced and aired between 1956 and 1979. His decision to have a large amount of his ballets filmed in Germany soured him to the filming experience. Director Hugo Niebeling made strange camera angle and editing choices. Balanchine derided the 1978 Live at Lincoln Center broadcast of Coppèlia, which featured too many long-range shots, for making his ballet look like “dancing matchsticks." It was only after he worked with the Dance in America crew for the “Choreography by Balanchine” series that Balanchine truly felt comfortable to re-envision his work on television. Balanchine’s
work on television and film is the subject of a series held by the Museum
of Television & Radio in New York and Los Angeles in honor of the
great choreographer’s centennial. Nine sets of screenings are scheduled
from December to March, as well as a seminar in January featuring Suzanne
Farrell, Edward Villella, Live at Lincoln
Center executive producer John Goberman. Balanchine at the New York Public Library “The
Enduring Legacy of George Balanchine” “Dear
Lincoln, This poignant
passage from a 1947 letter, handwritten in Paris by George Balanchine
to Lincoln Kirstein, is one of the extraordinary artifacts on view in
“The Enduring Legacy of George Balanchine,” a most thoughtful
exhibition, sensitively installed on the ground floor of The New York
Public Library for the Performing Arts at Lincoln Center through 24 April.
Some of the letters, photographs, publications, remarkable oral histories,
and other items will be familiar to Balanchine fans; however, quite a
few—such as the unusually vulnerable letter, quoted above—may
be revelations. Ballerinas important to the School of American Ballet
(such as Alexandra Danilova and Felia Doubrovska) are also separately
honored.
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Lyrical, Witty and Nutty as a Fruitcake: The Hard Nut Swings Into Town The
Hard Nut by
Paul Parish Berkeley likes to think that Mark Morris belongs here. THe director of Cal Performances, Robert Cole, not only books Morris 's company several times a year, and has set up a semi-official residency for the company at Zellerbach Auditorium, but when Christmas rolls around, Cole actually conducts the orchestra for Morris's brilliant burlesque of the Nutcracker, the really big show called The Hard Nut, which opened last Friday night once again to a delighted audience, many of whom see it every year instead of the "regular" Nutcracker. I've myself
seen it every year since it first opened here in 1996—it's played
with a few breaks, almost every year since—and I find it to be,
like a great comic opera, mysteriously intricate and deep, and that the
more I see it, the more satisfying it becomes. This year I was shocked
to realize how romantic The Hard Nut is—despite all its overt ironies,
and the manifold gay references, the pas de deux for Marie (Lauren Grant)
and the Nutcracker (David Leventhal) made me cry, it was so beautiful,
so touching, so delicate and poignant and fresh and musical, and so beautifully
danced. It has I think become more classical, more mythic, more universal
over the years, as this couple has taken over the roles—rather as
Apollo evolved with Farrell and Martins in the roles, except that in the
case of the Hard Nut, Leventhal and Grant are musical, generous,
classical in their way of moving, and WARM. This is how our parents should
have fallen in love. Ailey's Feast of Dancing and Premieres HeartSong/Juba/Revelations By
Susan Reiter The premieres just keep on coming each year during the Ailey season, and certainly choreographers must be lining up to get a chance to work with these gorgeous, tireless, dedicated dancers. Many of the choreographers seem to cram as many of the company's A-list dancers into their works as possible—there's no official hierarchy, and artistic director Judith Jamison really spreads the roles around, but certain members are clearly the unofficial soloists—as though they've been presented with a feast and want to sample everything available. The new
works tend to come and go; among the recent ones, Ronald K. Brown's are
among the few to find an ongoing place in the Ailey repertory. Too many
of the premieres are in suite form, consisting of assembled musical selections
and offering a rich display of dancing that does not cohere or add up
to much. Some tend toward the harsh and edgy; other are more showbiz and
display-oriented. Strangers On a Train D.C.
9th International Improvisation Plus+ Festival
By Lisa Traiger "Come
ride the Red line with us … we're CatScratch Theatre," whispered
a woman after slithering across a cement bench in Union Station. She handed
me a business-sized card and snuck up to the next unsuspecting customer.
Sometimes riding along with the unexpected makes for a serendipitous hour
or two, as it did on Saturday. The CatScratch dancers and a small cohort
of assistants—a flag carrier and one or two who lugged bags of cold
weather layers—began stealthily, hard to spot in their wool caps
and winter coats. But soon slight, ponytailed Stephen Clapp instructed
us to board the next Red Line train bound for Shady Grove. Along the way
we disembarked at pre-planned stops at Gallery Place, Metro Center and
Dupont Circle before finishing up with a game of follow the leader at
Friendship Heights that took us to the door of the Jack Guidone Theater.
Classical Showcase The
Winter Performance Recitals
by the Universal (formerly Kirov; originally Universal) Ballet Academy
have gained a reputation for classical purity and professional polish
that is matched by few other schools around the world. These showcases
occur two or three times a year just before breaks in the academic schedule
and they are long, lasting sometimes three hours or more. This year's
winter performance was relatively brief, just two and a half hours. Often
the starting number is a demonstration class but this time it was Classical
Composition by Nadig to Glinka music that served as a classroom based
entrée for six young women. There followed 32 other numbers, 18
of them by (or after) Marius Petipa. All the Petipa selections were classical,
not from his character dances, for arguably even Raymonda's solo is upper
class at its core with the folk ingredients elegantly, imperially transformed
(An Na Yung had the requisite authority). Among the dancers lit up by
Petipa were Ian Lindeman (in the Paquita trio), Emily Bicks (in
a Don Quixote Act 3 solo, and very finished for someone so young),
long limbed Sae Hyun Kwon (in the Vestalka solo to music presumably
by Gasparo Spontini and not Sposini; although M. Ivanov is listed as composer
for Petipa's ballet on the Vestal Virgin topic, this could have been from
the Spontini opera), Kenya Nakamura (in the Giselle Peasant Boy
variation), Brooklyn Mack (powerful in a Le Corsaire solo and
partnering lyrical Sofia Dahlgren in the duo), Sasha De Sola (another
Corsaire variation), Mikayla Williams (simple, fresh and elegant
in a Sleeping Beauty Prologue solo) as well as Mara Thompson,
Emily Drexler, April Giangeruso and Hee Kyung Bae. The dancers in Petipa
ensembles struck the right balance between individuality and uniformity.
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©2003 by DanceView |
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