Reviews & Previews
In this version, Prince Siegfried falls in love with
Odette at night, when she is still a maiden, and he witnesses her dawn transformation
into a swan at the hands of the vengeful Rothbart. (Much use is made of his
billowing cape.) As a girl, Odette wears a long, white gown, and the flowing
partnering makes them more like human lovers than man and creature.
The traditional choreography for the White Swan and
Black Swan pas de deux was left intact, as was that for the four cygnets (mostly).
Welch handled the flocking of the swans beautifully. To keep the story moving,
he replaced the pas de trois with an introduction to four princesses from different
lands, whom the Queen Mother presents as possible brides for Siegfried.
In Act I (which in this version includes Act II),
Welch added a rousing dance for the men on their way to the hunt. Emerging singly
from their social clusters, they danced with zest and virility, then slipped
smoothly back into the groups. The dance not only showed off the company’s
strong male contingent but also gave dazzle to the choreography and momentum
to the narrative.
The palace scene (now Act II) provided a burst of
warmth with its golds, burnt oranges, and wine reds. However, during the Black
Swan pas de deux the crowd left the ballroom. Only Rothbart, who through his
gestures controlled the course of the seduction, remained. When Siegfried and
Odile performed their variations, he showing his misbegotten joy, she her power,
they had no one to “tell” their feelings to. (I was later told that
this is how Alicia Alonso does her Swan Lake.)
Guest artist Marcelo Gomes of American Ballet Theatre
was a divinely human, believable Siegfried. An open, relaxed prince, he registered
every emotion in an exquisitely natural way. Sarah Webb, though not particularly
vivid, caught the right plaintive tone in Odette and brazenness in Odile. Their
eyes met often, and they expressed their need for intimacy with urgency.
In another cast, Connor Walsh, plucked from the corps,
was a happy and technically adept Siegfried, but out of his depth emotionally.
As once was the case, Odette/Odile was split between two dancers for this cast.
As his Odette, Barbara Bears’ limpid, slow-motion pas de deux created
its own magic. Bridget Zehr, an up-and-coming corps member, showed determination
in her cherubic face and a sure technique as his Odile.
Although we see Siegfried take up the crossbow near
the end, we don’t quite see how he accidentally kills Odette as well as
Rothbart. But there is no mistake about his suicide when he takes her limp body
in his arms and walks into the dark (monster-laden) sea. As dawn breaks, the
eight maidens who had consoled Odette earlier are released from Rothbart’s
spell. In the morning light, they start to breathe once more as women, not as
birds. Out of the tragedy emerges life and liberty. See www.houstonballet.org.
New York City Ballet
New York State Theater,
Lincoln Center, NYC
January 3–February 26, 2006
Reviewed by Joseph Carman
Most ballet companies take a sabbatical after The
Nutcracker. But like the metropolis it represents, New York City Ballet never
wastes a moment. Without batting a false eyelash, the company proceeded directly
into its winter season. Featuring two world premieres, the repertoire included
several revivals, a run of Peter Martins’ Swan Lake, and notable performance
Any premiere by City Ballet’s resident choreographer,
Christopher Wheeldon, stirs up expectations and publicity, and rightfully so.
He’s demonstrated an impressive track record with his versatility, creativity,
and craftsmanship. Wheeldon doesn’t shy away from formidable musical challenges—in
this case a movement from Beethoven’s Sonata in B-flat Major, Op. 106
(“Hammerklavier”). To the choreographer’s credit, his new
ballet, Klavier, drums up a lot of the angst and ecstasy implicit in the score.
As the curtain rises on Klavier, a grounded chandelier
upstage telegraphs an undercurrent of restlessness as the dancers pace upstage
and downstage. The subsequent pianissimo passages sort out the groupings of
the 10 dancers, including principal couples Miranda Weese and Albert Evans,
and Wendy Whelan and Sébastien Marcovici. Weese dances with feminine
abandon, but this is ultimately Whelan’s show. Marcovici acts like a lightning
rod to Whelan’s emotional electricity. When she slides across the stage
on pointe, it’s as if Beethoven himself were slashing out a staff of music
in frustration. As the music builds, Whelan translates into physical geometry
the essence of a nervous breakdown. The duet reaches a denouement when she stops
in an obliquely angled arabesque, face-down in resignation and resolution. The
same arabesque is repeated by the other women, an act of empathetic recognition,
and the ballet ends with the pacing movements of the opening.
Because the group sections lack urgency when Whelan
is offstage, the sum total of Klavier doesn’t place it at the top of the
Wheeldon canon. But any Wheeldon/Whelan collaboration means dance history in
the making; she is his greatest muse. (Further proof lay in season performances
of After the Rain and Liturgy.)
The title of Peter Martins’ new ballet Friandises
means “tidbits” in French, and the choreographer approached Christopher
Rouse’s commissioned score in five movements as if the music were to be
sampled like appetizers. Martins, obviously enamored of the young talent in
the company, wanted to showcase them. But the first four sections lack a viewpoint,
despite Rouse’s witty score. (The composer echoes bits of everything from
The Rite of Spring to a French can-can.) The last movement provides the raison
d’être for the ballet—a vehicle for wunderkinds Tiler Peck
and Daniel Ulbricht.
Dancing to a rousing gallop, Ulbricht zooms around
the stage at NASCAR speed, accelerating into triple saut de basques. And Peck
tosses off triple fouettés with alternating multiple back and front attitude
turns. It’s a trickster’s arena, but Martins seems truly inspired
by the brisk tempo. Like his ballets choreographed to the pulsing scores of
John Adams prove, Martins works best at top speed; the tempo seems to occupy
his mind and stimulate his creativity, letting him use the full expanse of the
Swan Lake brought a fresh wave of debuts, which focused
the attention on the dancing rather than the oddly scribbled sets by Danish
designer Per Kirkeby and the weakly developed themes of the production. Jenifer
Ringer, partnered by Marcovici as her soulful Prince, offered a thoroughly balanced,
intelligent portrayal of Odette/Odile. Often reminiscent of Margot Fonteyn,
she stressed the human pain and classicism of the role. A phenomenal allegro
dancer, Ashley Bouder confused Odette with the Firebird, causing her to channel
her energy haphazardly. When in doubt, Bouder relies on an overuse of her head
and a coy manner. She deserves better coaching.
A corps dancer who had rarely seen a spotlight, Sara
Mearns danced a surprisingly composed Odette with a pleasant Russianized style.
But her lack of experience and stamina forced her to run out of gas in the Black
Swan pas de deux, resulting in a fizzled coda. But stay tuned—she’s
talented. On the other hand, from her first jeté entrance, it’s
clear that Sofiane Sylve is the Swan Queen. You know why the other swans elected
her to be monarch, because she’s the biggest, the best, and can out-balance
any of them. Sylve’s plush movement quality buffers the strength she displays,
and her expressivity stems from full physicality with no strain involved. In
the end, she drew a sharp distinction between Odette and Odile.
Time tells a lot about the durability of revivals.
Some of Jerome Robbins’ ballets, like New York Export: Opus Jazz, seem
revelatory in retrospect. Mother Goose, with its tepid drama and thin choreography,
looks more like a cutesy experiment better left in the attic. Conversely, Wheel-don’s
lovely Scènes de Ballet, created by the novice choreographer in 1999
for students of the School of American Ballet, lends a new context to the choreographer’s
career. Built on the ingenious premise of a diagonally bisected stage that serves
as a mirrored studio and a young student’s looking glass into a fantasy
world of ballerina-land, Wheeldon demonstrated from the start that he possesses
imagination, vocabulary, and musicality. And the marvelously polished dancing
of the SAB students (rehearsed by Olga Kostritzky and Garielle Whittle) put
to shame the poorly rehearsed and miscast company production of the Balanchine
In other casting news, Megan Fairchild danced with a sweet soubrette quality
in Ballo della Regina rather than with the required attack and regality. The
pomp and circumstance went instead to her partner, Joaquin De Luz, with his
virile presence and endlessly resilient jumps. Sylve made an indelible mark
in her debuts in the adagio of Symphony in C and in Allegro Brillante. In the
latter, she was a gale force, answering Tchaikovsky’s arpeggios with quadruple
pirouettes and the fortissimos with yard-high pas de chats.
New York City Ballet is blessed with ballerinas of
the caliber of Sylve and Whelan and with a fine repertory stock. But be warned:
It always pays to check both the programming and the casting. See www.nycballet.com.
Kings of the Dance
New York City Center, NYC
February 23–26, 2006
Reviewed by Wendy Perron
If you could get past the documentary film that aggrandized each of the four
“kings”—American Ballet Theatre’s Angel Corella and
Ethan Stiefel, The Royal Danish Ballet’s Johan Kobborg, and the Bolshoi’s
Nicolai Tsiskaridze—you had a treat in store.
Flemming Flindt’s stylized The Lesson (1963)
is both funny and horrifying. It depicts a musty studio run by a furtive, tyrannical
teacher who torments his eager student. Corella was terrific in the role; his
fingers crawled over his face and chest, not quite concealing a murderous impulse.
(Kobborg and Tsiskaridze played the role on subsequent nights.) His student,
Gudrun Bojesen (from the Royal Danish Ballet), had a perky exuberance, and Deirdre
Chapman (from The Royal Ballet) as the pianist/accomplice projected an uptight
authority from her first stiff-legged walk.
Each of the four stars performed a solo created for
him that deliciously undermined the concept of royalty. In Wavemaker by Nils
Christe, Stiefel, his back to us, started with hand jitters that grew to full-blown,
Kobborg was sensational in Tim Rushton’s Afternoon
of a Faun. Impulsive and sensual, this faun enjoyed his own body and the ground
beneath him. With head cocked, he listened to the air around him for signs of
danger or pleasure. He flicked a hand or leg into a pool of light as though
it were water.
Tsiskaridze danced both the male and female roles
in specially tailored variations from Roland Petit’s Carmen. At first,
watching his dramatic gestures with a cape, one couldn’t tell if he meant
to be funny. But when he hid behind a fan and snapped it coyly, there was no
question about the camp factor.
Corella came back with We Got It Good, a jazzy number
by Stanton Welch. He was Mr. Smooth, sneaking up on outrageously multitudinous
pirouettes and melting back again into “oh-it’s-nothing” cool.
We ate it up.
The opener, Christopher Wheeldon’s piece d’occasion
For 4, allowed the four men to ride the nuances of Schubert’s Death and
the Maiden with a soupçon of wit and playfulness. But the piece was curiously
sterile considering Wheeldon’s usually breathtaking partner work for men
and women. Here only an occasional nod of camaraderie warmed up the symmetrical
patterns. However, For 4 introduced the Royal Four with a curtain of clean,
lyrical dancing, beyond which each dancer would go in his solo.
Capitol Theatre, Salt Lake City, UT
February 10–18, 2006
Reviewed by Kathy Adams
Jonas Kåge’s world premiere of Romeo and
Juliet takes a cinematic approach and ultimately a fresh look at a familiar
story. Armed with an accumulated knowledge of the ballet (he danced Romeo in
MacMillan’s, Cranko’s, and Nureyev’s versions), Kåge’s
adaptation is unmistakably his own.
Each scene is staged to organically shape and reshape
the visual plane, building physical momentum toward an emotional pitch. In the
moment when Juliet is transfixed by Romeo’s gaze, the background choreography
slows and guides the scene’s energy to the principals.
Kåge did not attempt such severe choreographic
changes as to turn this ballet on its ear, but he updated it in feel, making
it boldly sensuous. In the bedroom pas de deux, Romeo, wrapped around Juliet
from behind, guides her hand up her leg and across her body, past her open lips
and into his mouth, as if tasting her love. Juliet is not a child who gets tossed
and turned into a woman by fate, but a thoughtful teenager who makes a bad choice.
As a director, Kåge asks the dancers to attack and push the choreography,
not be led by it.
These devices, however, do not become a substitute
for meaty choreography. Kåge’s work is demanding, and Ballet West
has become a precision company that meets the challenge. Additional dancers
from Ballet West II, Ballet West Academy, and such wonderfully seasoned dancers
as Peter Christie (as Lord Capulet) create a cast that feels authentic in age
and character. In particular, demi-soloist Kate Crews, as the Red Harlot, is
a refreshingly free dancer.
Each Juliet brings her own characterization to the
role. Michiyo Hayashi clearly develops Juliet from child to woman through her
lithe body, expressiveness, and flawless technique. With Seth Olsen as her unwavering
partner, the lifts are seamless. Olsen runs to scoop Hayashi in his arms, pressing
her over his head; her arching back spills over his hands and her développé
extends beyond the lights.
Peggy Dolkas’ sensuous Juliet, partnered by
Christopher Ruud, makes a muddy transition from child to woman. But their pas
de deux as newlyweds is electrifying. Ruud is a raucous Romeo who sails through
the difficult choreography in the balcony scene.
Kåge fleshes out Mercutio’s character
through a longer than usual death scene, giving him a wider range of emotions.
Hua Zhuang conceived the character as a tall, lanky hedonist who mercilessly
taunts Tybalt (danced beautifully by Michael Bearden), while Jeff Herbig’s
hyperactive, annoying Mercutio scoffs at Tybalt even as he dies.
The costumes by David Heuvel, rich in texture and
color, informed the story and gave the processionals substance. See www.balletwest.org.
The Joyce Theater, NYC
January 31–February 5, 2006
Reviewed by Susan Yung
Ballet Biarritz’s Thierry Malandain, a neoclassical choreographer guided
by music and story, is nothing if not intrepid. He used Beethoven’s Creatures
of Prometheus to set forth parallel histories of the Bible and dance in his
recent 70-minute dance, Création. His 16 dancers, with their hyper-polished
technique and stage presence, are well rehearsed and even seem competitive in
performance. All these ingredients comprise an evening of entertainment that,
despite its ambitions and pretensions, felt superficial.
After a Genesis-like flash (the lighting design was
by Jean-Claude Asquié, the dancers broke out of a diagonal column into
a favored Malandain arrangement—an irregular matrix of bodies facing various
compass points. They performed rudimentary ballet exercises, apparently the
building blocks of dance. From there, they evolved through expansive curving
shapes that emphasized their elegant lines and formed Busby Berkeley-style dilating
clusters. They barked like dogs and glared at the audience, teasing out puzzled
Some of the dance references were oddly blunt, like
Loie Fuller’s extended flowing wings and Isadora Duncan’s toga gown
and unpinned hair. Malandain combined these with obtuse biblical references,
like a clear beach ball, purportedly the apple in Eden. Embellished black unisex
tanks were transformed with bell skirts, long skirts, stiff tutus; later, the
dancers changed into nude leotards, pointing to modern dance’s body consciousness.
But when mixed in with duets between Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, and company,
the effect veered toward bizarre pageantry. At least Malandain deployed humor
throughout, which helped prevent Création from becoming parody.
The technically exceptional dancers have been trained
to give 110 percent all the time. Even standing still, they were daring us somehow.
But the choreography featured little fluid phrasing between one struck pose
after another, making it a chain of exclamations rather than a meaningful sentence.
And Malandain showed remarkably little invention with entrances and exits, instead
relying on a flex-footed walk time and again, as dictated by the music. If only
the choreography showed as much risk taking as the choice of subject matter.
Preview: Atlanta Ballet
Violette Verdy is in love—with “the tenderness in the European
character,” she says, “tenderness about life, food, children, and
the arts.” Verdy’s neoclassical piece, Inoui Rossini (“inoui”
means “beyond expectations”), set to the composer’s evocative
music, draws upon this culture. “So much of my career has centered on
teaching,” the former NYCB principal dancer says. “I find my choreography
seems naturally to be about educating dancers in what a disciplined body can
suggest, and audiences in how ballet transforms the body into an articulate
instrument. The Atlanta company dancers can do extraordinary things. I had to
show off their talents.” May 5–6, Ferst Center for the Performing
Arts, Atlanta; www.atlantaballet.com.
—Colleen M. Payton
Preview: “Return to PHL”
Rennie Harris and Roko Kawai
The careers of Rennie Harris and Roko Kawai have diverged in interesting ways
since they helped found Philadelphia’s short-lived world dance and music
ensemble, Splinter Group, in the early 1990s. Since then, Harris has excelled
in bringing hip hop dance to the concert stage, while Kawai has dismantled classical
Japanese forms. On this shared program, PrinceScareKrow’s Road to the
Emerald City continues Harris’ solo excursion into private self/public
image. Kawai’s Tebura/Migaru (“empty hands/light in body”)
combines the formalism of Japanese dance and the spontaneity of postmodern devices.
She describes it as “honoring, testing, and humoring the body that dances
both within and without kimono.” May 12–13, Painted Bride, Philadelphia;
—Brenda Dixon Gottschild
Preview: Kansas City Ballet
The power of solo dancing forms the centerpiece for Kansas City Ballet’s
“Six Solos of Consequence II” program. Included in this group of
20th-century classic and contemporary works (the first series four years ago
received critical praise) are Mary Wigman’s Hexentanz (Witchdance); solos
from Balanchine’s Song of the Nightingale and Mozartiana; an unnamed Isadora
Duncan solo; Percussion 4 from Bob Fosse’s Broadway show Dancin’;
and Claire Porter’s comic piece Lost in the Modern. Rounding out the program
are Todd Bolender’s Voyager, set to Bernstein, and The Catherine Wheel
Suite, Twyla Tharp’s fast, furious reply to David Byrne’s heady
rock score. May 11–14, Lyric Theatre, Kansas City, MO; www.kcballet.org.
From the angles of your feet to the size of your head, it can sometimes seem like there is no part of a dancer's body that is not under scrutiny. It's easy to get obsessed when you are constantly in front of a mirror, trying to fit a mold.
Yet the traditional ideals seem to be exploding every day. "The days of carbon-copy dancers are over," says BalletX dancer Caili Quan. "Only when you're confident in your own body can you start truly working with what you have."
While the striving may never end, there can be unexpected benefits to what you may think of as your "imperfections."
It's the second week of Miami City Ballet School's Choreographic Intensive, and the students stand in a light-drenched studio watching as choreographer Durante Verzola sets a pas de trois. "Don't be afraid to look at the ceiling—look that high," Verzola shows one student as she holds an arabesque. "That gives so much more dimension to your dancing." Other students try the same movement from the sidelines.
When Arantxa Ochoa took over as MCB School's director of faculty and curriculum two years ago, she decided to add a second part to the summer intensive: five weeks focused on technique would be followed by a new two-week choreography session. The technique intensive is not a requirement, but students audition for both at the same time and many attend the two back-to-back.
On a summer afternoon at The Ailey School's studios, a group of students go through a sequence of Horton exercises, radiating concentration and strength as they tilt to one side, arms outstretched and leg parallel to the ground. Later, in a studio down the hall, a theater dance class rehearses a lively medley of Broadway show tunes. With giant smiles and bouncy energy, students run through steps to "The Nicest Kids in Town" from Hairspray.
"You gotta really scream!" teacher Judine Somerville calls out as they mime their excitement. "This is live theater!" They segue into the audition number from A Chorus Line, "I Hope I Get It," their expressions becoming purposeful and slightly nervous. "Center stage is wherever I am," Somerville tells them when the music stops, making them repeat the words back to her. "Take that wherever you go."
Dance artists, as a rule, are a resilient bunch. But working in a studio in New York City without heat or electricity in the middle of winter? That's not just crazy; it's unhealthy, and too much to ask of anyone.
Unfortunately, Brooklyn Studios for Dance hasn't had heat since mid-November, making it impossible for classes or performances to take place in the community-oriented center.
So what's a studio to do? Throw a massive dance party, of course.
As winter sets in, your muscles may feel tighter than they did in warmer weather. You're not imagining it: Cold weather can cause muscles to lose heat and contract, resulting in a more limited range of motion and muscle soreness or stiffness.
But dancers need their muscles to be supple and fresh, no matter the weather outside. Here's how to maintain your mobility during the colder months so your dancing isn't affected:
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A newly launched initiative hopes to change the face of ballet, both onstage and behind the scenes. Called "The Equity Project: Increasing the Presence of Blacks in Ballet," the three-year initiative, funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, is a partnership between Dance Theatre of Harlem, the International Association of Blacks in Dance and Dance/USA.
"We've seen huge amounts of change in the years since 1969, when Dance Theatre of Harlem was founded," says Virginia Johnson, artistic director of DTH. "But change is happening much too slowly, and it will continue to be too slow until we come to a little bit more of an awareness of what the underlying issues are and what needs to be done to address them."
From the outside, it seemed like the worst of New York City Ballet's problems were behind them last winter, when ballet master in chief Peter Martins retired amid accusations of abuse and sexual harassment, and an internal investigation did not substantiate those claims.
But further troubles were revealed in August when a scandal broke that led to dancer Chase Finlay's abrupt resignation and the firing of fellow principals Amar Ramasar and Zachary Catazaro. All three were accused of "inappropriate communications" and violating "norms of conduct."
The artistic director sets the tone for a dance company and leads by example. But regardless of whether Martins, and George Balanchine before him, established a healthy organization, the issues at NYCB bespeak an industry-wide problem, says Jawole Willa Jo Zollar, founding artistic director of Urban Bush Women. "From New York City Ballet to emerging artists, we've just done what's been handed down," she observes. "That has not necessarily led to great practices."
If you've ever wondered what goes on behind the scenes at Dance Magazine, now's your chance to find out. Dance Magazine is seeking an editorial intern who's equally passionate about dance and journalism.
Through March 1, we are accepting applications for a summer intern to assist our staff onsite in New York City from June to August. The internship includes an hourly stipend and requires a minimum two-day-a-week commitment. (We do not provide assistance securing housing.)
For the past few months, the dance world has been holding its collective breath, waiting for New York City Ballet to announce who will take over the helm as artistic director.
Though former ballet master in chief Peter Martins retired over a year ago after accusations of sexual harassment and abuse (an internal investigation did not corroborate the accusations), the search for a new leader didn't begin until last May.
Nine months later, the new director's name could be released any day now. And we have some theories about who it might be:
Some people take this profession as just a chapter of their life. They feel like dance is a job—a fun job, but a job. Other people live their life through dance. I never considered being a ballerina a profession. It's a lifestyle.
If I don't have a performance, I feel like a tiger trapped in a cage. I have so many emotions, I feel I need to give them to somebody, to exhaust myself—I need to cry or laugh, or else it's suffocating. Other people might scream or throw bottles into the wall. We dancers scream onstage through our movement. For me, it's like sweeping off the dust in my soul.
Back in 2011, Yale University's dean of science was thinking about refreshing the program's offerings for non-majors when he happened upon a Pilobolus performance. A light bulb went off: Dance is full of physics.
That realization led to what has become an eight-year collaboration between particle physicist Sarah Demers and former New York City Ballet dancer Emily Coates, both professors at Yale who were brought together to co-teach a course called The Physics of Dance. Their partnership has involved everything from directing a short film to presenting a TedX Talk and performing a piece that Coates created, commissioned by Danspace Project. This month, they're publishing a book about what they've discovered by dialoging across two seemingly disparate disciplines.
Sebastian Abarbanell remembers being asked as an undergrad at Trinity Laban in London to perform wearing only a dance belt. "I said no," he says, "because I felt uncomfortable." Now a performer with Sidra Bell Dance New York, he's performed partially nude several times, without reservation. The difference? "It comes with more experience and maturing as a dancer," he says. "When you see a dancer living in their skin, you don't need to put anything else on them. When I said no in college, I wasn't in my skin yet."
Getting in your skin—and getting comfortable wearing only your skin onstage—requires a particular alchemy of vulnerability, agency, preparation and practice.
What's next for the dance world? Our annual list of the dancers, choreographers and companies that are on the verge of skyrocketing has a pretty excellent track record of answering that question.
Here they are: the 25 up-and-coming artists we believe represent the future of our field.
Though Polunin has long had a reputation for behaving inappropriately, in the last month his posts have been somewhat unhinged. In one, Polunin, who is Ukrainian, shows off his new tattoo of Vladimir Putin:
Just before retiring in 2015, Sylvie Guillem appeared on "HARDtalk with Zeinab Badawi," the BBC's hard-hitting interview program. Badawi told Guillem,
"Clement Crisp of the Financial Times, 14 years ago, described your dancing as vulgar."
"Yeah, well, he said that. But at the same time, when they asked Margot Fonteyn what she thought about lifting the leg like this she said, 'Well, if I could have done it, I would have done it.' "
They were discussing Guillem's signature stroke—her 180-degree leg extension à la seconde. Ballet legs had often flashed about in the higher zones between 135 and 160 degrees before. But it wasn't until the virtuoso French ballerina regularly
extended her leg beside her ear with immaculate poise in the 1980s that leg extensions for ballet dancers in classical roles reached their zenith. Traditionalists like Clement Crisp were not taken with it.
Birmingham Royal Ballet announced today that international star Carlos Acosta will be taking over as director in January of 2020. Current BRB director David Bintley will be stepping down this summer, at the end of the company's 2019 season, after a 24-year tenure. "It is a tremendous honor and privilege to have been appointed to lead Birmingham Royal Ballet," Acosta said in a statement.
Since retiring from The Royal Ballet in 2015, Acosta has focused much of his attention on his native Cuba, where he's proven his directorial abilities at the helm of Acosta Danza, the contemporary company that he founded in 2016. In 2017 Acosta also opened his first Dance Academy through his foundation, which provides free training to students. We don't yet know how Acosta will balance his time between his projects in Cuba and his new role at BRB.
My personal life has taken a nosedive since I broke up with my boyfriend. He's in the same show and is now dating one of my colleagues. It's heartbreaking to see them together, and I'm determined never to date a fellow dancer again. But it's challenging to find someone outside, as I practically live in the theater. Do you have any advice?
—Loveless, New York, NY
The inimitable Carol Channing, best known for her role as the titular Hello, Dolly!, passed away today at 97.
Though she became a three-time Tony winner, Channing was born in Seattle, far from the Great White Way, in 1921. After growing up in San Francisco, she attended the famed Bennington College, studying dance and drama. She later told the university, "What Bennington allows you to do is develop the thing you're going to do anyway, over everybody's dead body." For Channing, that meant decades of fiery, comical performances, bursting with energy.
Something's coming, I don't know when
But it's soon...maybe tonight?
Those iconic lyrics have basically been our #mood ever since we first heard a remake of the West Side Story film, directed by Steven Spielberg and choreographed by Justin Peck, was in the works. THE CASTING. THE CASTING WAS COMING.
Well, last night—after an extensive search process that focused on finding the best actors within the Puerto Rican/Latinx community—the WSS team finally revealed who'll be playing Maria, Anita, Bernardo, and Chino (joining Ansel Elgort, who was cast as Tony last fall). And you guys: It is a truly epic group.
Rehearsal is in full swing, and Leta Biasucci, Pacific Northwest Ballet's newest principal dancer, finds herself in unfamiliar territory. Biasucci is always game for a challenge, but choreographer Kyle Davis wants her to lift fellow dancer Clara Ruf Maldonado. Repeatedly. While she's known for her technical prowess, lifting another dancer off the floor is a bit daunting for Biasucci, who stands all of 5' 3". She eyes Maldonado skeptically, then breaks into a grin.
"It's absolutely given me a new appreciation for the partner standing behind me!" Biasucci says with a laugh.
Looking at Biasucci, 29, with her wide smile and eager curiosity, you think you see the quintessential extrovert. In reality, she's anything but. "I was an introverted kid," Biasucci says. "That's part of the reason I fell in love with dance—I didn't have to be talkative."
It's only one of the seeming contradictions in Biasucci's life: She's a short, muscular ballerina in a company known for its fleet of tall, long-legged women; she's also most comfortable with classical ballet, while taking on a growing repertoire of contemporary work.
Sergei Polunin, whose recent homophobic and sexist Instagram posts have sparked international outrage, will not be appearing with the Paris Opéra Ballet as previously announced.
POB artistic director Aurélie Dupont sent an internal email to company staff and dancers on Sunday, explaining that she did not share Polunin's values and that the Russian-based dancer would not be guesting with the company during the upcoming run of Rudolf Nureyev's Swan Lake in February.