Looking back on 2010

2010 was a pretty good year for show going. For me personally, six months of it were spent living in New York City and I took full advantage: I saw more shows in the space of those six months than I had in any one previous year. Most excitingly, several things were new and wonderfully surprising to me.

In summary, I saw 184 performances last year.  44% were dance performances, 29% were theater (plays and musicals), 11% were opera, and 8% were music. This year’s count represents an increase of 54 over last year (a 43% increase). I also attended my 1,000th performance since I started counting in back in high school: it was Mark Morris’ The Hard Nut in December.

DANCE

Serenade at New York City Ballet. Photo by Paul Kolnik.

I really fell in love with New York City Ballet in 2010. I saw dozens of performances during the company's winter, spring and fall seasons (the fall season is a happy new addition to the schedule), and the company has an incredible repertory of classic and contemporary works, most of it performed with enthusiasm if not perfection. The company don’t win with everything—there were some woefully undercoached and underrehearsed performances, as well as a few misfires in the newest repertory—but when the company did win, it won big. There were thrilling performances from dancers like Ashley Bouder, Sara Mearns, Tiler Peck, Gonzalo Garcia, Tyler Angle, and Daniel Ulbricht, and, even better, beautiful full-company efforts in staples of the Balanchine repertoire: these were performances that reminded why these ballets are still exciting and relevant today. In particular, I loved seeing performances of Balanchine’s Agon, Duo Concertant, Stravinsky Violin Concerto, and especially Divertimento No. 15; Robbins’ Dances at a Gathering; and Wayne McGregor’s new ballet for the company, Outlier, presented as part of a festival of new choreography in the spring season. There were also memorable farewell performances for beloved company members, notably the performance of Serenade at Philip Neal’s farewell. Though these great artists were leaving, the generation coming in behind them is no short of brilliant exciting.  Fantastic performances this year included Ashley Bouder in Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2, Firebird, and Scotch Symphony (a debut no less); Gonzalo Garcia and Wendy Whelan in Robbins’ Opus 19/The Dreamer; Kathryn Morgan’s debut as Aurora in The Sleeping Beauty; Tiler Peck in Who Cares? and Aurora in The Sleeping Beauty; and Tyler Angle in lots of things, including small roles in Agon. I can’t wait to see what the company will bring this year.

Pina Bausch's Vollmond. Photo by Laurent Philippe.

Of course, being in New York meant that there was plenty of other great dance to see. Among my favorites: Pina Bausch Tanztheater Wuppertal in Volmond, in the company’s first New York appearance after the death its of founder-choreographer Pina Bausch; Keigwin & Company at the Joyce new to me and very exciting; Faye Driscoll’s There is so much mad in me at Dance Theatre Workshop; Diana Vishneva and Marcelo Gomes for their passionate and inspired performances in American Ballet Theater’s productions of La Bayadere and Neuemeier’s Lady of the Camellias at the Metropolitan Opera House; as well as Gillian Murphy and David Hallberg's witty and pristinely delicate performances in Ashton’s The Dream, also during American Ballet Theatre’s spring season at the Met. In Philadelphia, I caught a particularly remarkable performance by Pennsylvania Ballet, in Jerome Robbins’ Afternoon of a Faun (dreamlike and entrancing) and in William Forsythe’s In the middle, somewhat elevated (a fabulous jolt to the system).

December brought four productions of The Nutcracker, and I enjoyed them all: the classic Balanchine production at New York City Ballet, the Royal Ballet’s on DVD, Alexei Ratmansky’s new production for American Ballet Theatre, and Mark Morris’ campy Hard Nut, especially in his whimsically musical choreography in the Waltz of the Snowflakes.

THEATER

Lily Rabe and Al Pacino in the Broadway production of The Merchant of Venice, directed by Daniel Sullivan, which originated at Shakespeare in the Park. Photo by Joan Marcus.

While my year definitely skewed towards dance, there was plenty I enjoyed in the theater as well. On Broadway: the new company of Next to Normal, featuring Marin Mazzie and Jason Daniely in understated performances that, in my view, exceeded the already excellent performances of the original cast; the Menier Chocolate Factory’s production of La Cage aux Folles, which was hysterically fun and sweetly heartwarming all at once; a strongly acted and deftly directed production of Arthur Miller’s A View from the Bridge starring Liev Schrieber and Scarlett Johanssen; the inspired casting of Bernadette Peters and Elaine Stritch in A Little Night Music, who made a decent production brilliant; and Fela!, which was anything but a linear, traditional Broadway musical but was exciting and moving anyway.

Off Broadway and around town, there was Neighbors, at the Public Theater; the Glyndeborne Opera’s production of The Fairy Queen at BAM (a production that was more theater than opera really); Elevator Repair Service’s brilliant Gatz at the Public, in which the entirety of Great Gatsby the novel was read on stage; and the Public Theater's Shakespeare in the Park production of The Merchant of Venice, which later transferred to Broadway with a headliner in Al Pacino and a true star performance in Lily Rabe.

While traveling to Bangkok, Thailand this summer with family, I also managed to see a Thai production of La Cage aux Folles at the Rachadalai Theatre, called Kinnaree See Rung. It was a great adaptation of this show, very fun and very funny, and in many ways, the show worked even better in the context of Thai culture. They played up a fascinating tension between the conservatism of Thai family life and the risqué, drag shows popular among foreign tourists, giving a real truth the show that resonated quite powerfully (where in the 2010 New York production, they had to really remind us the show was set in the 80s to make the main plot twist more believable). Oh, and did I mention that the Thai production was just a ton of fun, too?

In operatic theater, I very much enjoyed Richard Eyre’s new production of Carmen at the Metropolitan Opera, with searing performances from Elina Garanca and Roberto Alagna; Anna Netrebko was fantastic in the still-good Zefferelli production of La Boheme; and I also very much enjoyed seeing Diana Damrau in several things this year: in Bart Scherr’s production of Il Barbiere de Siviglia and especially in concert, singing Strauss songs and Zerbinetta's virtuoso showcase aria from Ariadne auf Naxos, with the MET Orchestra.

MOVIES

These weren’t live performances but their storytelling excited me anyway: The Social Network and Toy Story 3.

Adventures in Nutcracker: 2010

Balanchine's Nutcracker at New York City Ballet. Photo by Paul Kolnik.

For a ballet junkie like me, most of the options for ballet during the month of December boil down to The Nutcracker, especially in the United States. That doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing, though. This season, I was lucky enough to see four wonderful Nutcrackers. In person, I saw George Balanchine's version at New York City Ballet, Alexei Ratmansky’s new one for American Ballet Theatre, and Mark Morris’ The Hard Nut, for his Mark Morris Dance Group. I also saw The Royal Ballet’s production by Sir Peter Wright, in a new recording that was made last Christmas at the Royal Opera House in London and screened at cinemas this Christmas (it was also released on DVD). These performances reminded me of the genuine charms of this ballet: the gorgeous Tchaikovsky score and the clever theatrical potential inside of it, the joy of Christmas as seen through the eyes of children, and—occasionally—some fantastically inventive choreography to go along with all of that. Living in the New York area has greatly improved my outlook on this ballet. I saw some pretty dreadful, unimaginative productions when I was living out West, enough to make me weary of Nutcracker (and to develop a personal rule to never, ever go out of my way to see The Nutcracker).

I’ve come across what may be, to my eyes, my personal favorite Nutcracker: Balanchine’s version, which has seriously good ballet choreography that rises to the occasion presented by the music. Balanchine’s version also has a simple, uncluttered narrative that doesn't try to hard to add too much plot or sense to the whole thing. It's sweets and simple vignettes, expertly staged so that we don't get too bored. Various other Nutcrackers spiral out from here in my view.Some productions focus more on the narrative than dancing, and others go straight to the spectacle, making everything as grand and resplendent as possible.

The snow scene in Balanchine's Nutcracker, at New York City Ballet. Photo by Paul Kolnik.

New York City Ballet’s production of Balanchine’s Nutcracker is the stalwart (there are also productions of the Balanchine version at Pennsylvania, Miami, Atlanta and Oregon Ballet Theatre). Every time I see it, I get giddy over the entire experience of it all. Walking up the steps of Lincoln Center, sitting in the jewel box of a theater, and seeing the illustrated blue curtain during the overture. And Balanchine’s choreography has me in awe every time, with its constantly unfolding and surprising patterns and the joyous speed of the dancing with the music. I’m sure the dancers must get tired of the endless repetition of performing this ballet, but I love seeing it every time. This year I saw Tiler Peck and Joaquin De Luz as Sugar Plum and the Cavalier, and Ana Sophia Scheller as Dewdrop. All of them a joy to watch.

Most charming about Balanchine’s production is his use of children. We see the ballet through young eyes from the moment the curtain rises. The child Marie is peeking through the keyhole at the family room, where parents are decorating the tree. From there, the childhood fantasy keeps growing, from an ideal Christmas party—where the children are mostly well-behaved and get some actual, pleasant choreography to dance—to a heroic battle, to a dream of a snow-scene, and a trip to the land of the sweets. Children get featured roles throughout the ballet, from being the cutest-angels-ever to big dance parts in the Candy Canes and Mother Ginger dances. Seeing these children on stage—dancing so well in such pleasing choreography—puts a smile on my face and makes me a happy child for two hours.

The Royal Ballet's Nutcracker, by Sir Peter Wright, with Miyako Yoshida and Steven McRae. Photo by Johan Persson.

Grand and resplendent is the route taken by the Nutcracker at the The Royal Ballet, created by Sir Peter Wright. It has a beautiful physical production with glittering, enormous pieces of scenery and elaborate costumes. In this production, I most enjoy seeing the Grand Pas de Deux for the Sugar Plum Fairy and her cavalier, which appears near the end of Act 2. It has gorgeously classical, majestic choreography (which I gather from various sources can be traced back to Lev Ivanov’s original choreography from the first Nutcracker in Russia). In this DVD, Miyako Yoshida and Steven McRae perform it with crystalline perfection. Also noteworthy is Laura Morera’s smashing performance as the Rose Fairy in the Waltz of the Flowers.

This is the second recorded version of this Nutcracker production to have been released since 2000, and both of them have featured Miyako Yoshida as the Sugar Plum Fairy. Comparisons are inevitable since both discs are so readily available: as nice as it is to see Yoshida and Morera on the new disc, the older one is generally better. Alina Cojocaru was perfect as Clara on the old disc—young and sweet in character, expansive and spontaneous in her dancing—and it’d be hard for anyone to match that, even though Iohna Loots is just fine as Clara on the new disc. Regarding Yoshida’s double performance, before recording this DVD, the smile police must have told her to smile extra hard this time out: in 2000, she was cool and regal (maybe even a bit icy), but this time, she looks like she’s about to kill with kindness. Personally I prefer the calmer version on the old disc, but her performance with McRae is very much a joy anyway.

American Ballet Theatre's Nutcracker, at BAM.

This year, American Ballet Theatre offered New York City a classical alternative to Balanchine’s tried and true classic, premiering a brand-new version by resident choreographer Alexei Ratmansky. I loved this new production. It is very theatrical, focused more on narrative elements than either the Royal or Balanchine productions. While it tells essentially the same story—family Christmas party, girl falls asleep and has a dream filled with battles and candy sweets—the details make Ratmansky’s Nutcracker entirely original. It is very playful: jokes abound in the story and choreography, right from the beginning. Mice amusingly take over the kitchen during the first scene; during her iconic variation, the Sugar Plum Fairy bounces off stage then takes a peek-a-boo from the wings before launching into her final series of turns; the list goes on. There were surprises throughout, and I eagerly waited for every tried-and-true Nutcracker moment to see what Ratmansky would do with it—and each time I was happily tickled by the results. This production is a huge improvement over ABT’s old McKenzie production, and it’s a welcome addition to the cadre of American Nutcrackers. Also very exciting was the company's performance in this production. There was a palpable level of energy, playfulness, and commitment on stage that was especially noticeable since I saw so many tired performances during the company's Met season last spring. Perhaps having a new production and having Ratmansky in the room creating with them gave the dancers something to get excited about (where in the Spring they're performing things that they have done over and over). In any case, it was thoroughly enjoyable all around.

Mark Morris' The Hard Nut. Photos by Stephanie Berger.

But if a classical alternative just wasn’t alternative enough, Mark Morris’ The Hard Nut provided more than enough quirk to get through any holiday season slump. This production was presented at BAM in the week just before ABT’s new production, and it has been showing up off and on around the world for nearly 20 years. Though it’s certainly different from a traditional Nut—and certainly it was hyped that way—I was surprised to find that it was actually pretty straightforward and loyal to Tchaikovsky’s score. Morris revels in the music, and the Mark Morris Dance Group Music Ensemble gave it the best reading that I heard in any of these four productions—it was sweet, nimble, and appropriately grand at all the right moments. And there was a live childrens' chorus for the Snow Scene (the excellent Brooklyn Youth Chorus)! From this excellent music grew the choreography, and Morris is one of the most musical of choreographers.

The best parts for a dance lover were the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the Waltz of the Flowers and the Grand Adagio in Act Two. In these moments, Morris offers a fantastic modern-dance alternative to classical ballet. He finds the joy and emotion in the score and brings it to the surface, giving a dance on flat foot that doesn’t wish like it was ballet (I have sadly seen that too often in other choreographers’ work) and is also hysterically wonderful as well. The dramatic scenes show quirky, but lovable characters, all finely drawn and fun to watch. Morris solves the Act Two problem of Nutcracker (where endless divertissements can bore) by inserting his own story on top. The device doesn’t work all the way but it keeps us gainfully entertained for the next 40 minutes. This is another Nutcracker that kept me smiling for the whole two hours.

Gatz

Photo: Chris Bierens

It’s difficult to describe the experience of seeing Elevator Repair Service’s Gatz and how it’s such a fascinating theatrical experience. Described plainly, it’s an 8.5 hour performance given in two parts (with a one hour dinner break in between and 15 minute intermissions) during which the entirety of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel The Great Gatsby is read out loud. The setting is a drab office, and the conceit is that one of the office drones entertains himself by reading The Great Gatsby while waiting for tech support to come fix his computer. Bit by bit, the novel comes to life around him. His fellow office-mates become the characters in the novel and begin speaking the lines of dialogue, and he himself eventually takes on the role of the novel’s narrator, Nick Carraway.

In performance, the show begins on a lighter note and gradually darkens as the tone of the novel does as well. Most of part 1 is brightly lit, the scenes staged with lots of action (sheaves of paper thrown around the room at Myrtle’s party) and a bunch of meta-comedy (the narrator’s raised eyebrows and smirks at amusing lines in the text). By part 2, most of the lighting palate turns to dark blues, deep shadows and cold white fluorescents. The performances become more straightforward and somber, and the narrator takes his job far more seriously.

It is not staged as a literal stage adaptation of the novel. Rather, we get one person’s imagining of the novel as he reads it, in context of the space that he’s reading it. Sort of. Parts of it make clear the office environment and even the space of the theater—for each intermission break, the narrator puts the book down, turns to the adueince and says, “We’re going to stop here for fifteen”—and in other parts, it seems like we’ve completely fallen into the book. This is especially the case during the last chapter of the novel, when our narrator (performed, brilliantly, by Scott Sheperd) puts the book down and speaks the text directly to the audience, perhaps completing the transformation into Nick Carraway.

Photo: Mark Barton

Before I saw it, the idea of an 8-plus-hour show already sounded like a slog to me, and the prospect of hearing all of The Great Gatsby in one sitting seemed brutal, too, even if I actually like the novel. But the theater press had been buzzing about the show, and so had friends who had seen in Boston, Philadelphia and elsewhere (Elevator Repair Service has toured with this show for several years before this run at the Public). But how much, I wondered, could this staging add to it, anyway?

Well, a lot and not a lot, but all of it good. There are parts where the show really does just feel like a reading of the novel, but then, one line is read a certain way, and suddenly the text is fantastically illuminated. Or, through a brilliant performances or a clever bit of staging—all directed with intelligence and wit by John Collins—a scene comes to life with blinding clarity and emotion. Some of this was unexpected to me, even with my familiarity of the novel, which I had read in high school and again in college. It’s amazing how interesting it is to hear a novel like The Great Gatsby read and revealed to you: like story time for adults, but with an added level of intelligence and maturity. It made for really great theater, and just like the characters on stage, at the end of those eight hours, you feel like you’ve gone on a wild ride, too.

Gatz concluded its run at The Public Theater on November 29.

Così fan tutte at the Met

Photo: Marty Sohl/Metropolitan Opera

Even though it’s one of Mozart’s most popular operas, I’ve never really liked Così fan tutte—I have tried to see it twice before, and have never made it through the whole thing for sheer boredom over the contrived plot. To be fair to Così, both times were pretty substandard productions, one a regional opera company (when I bailed at intermission) and the other was at a music conservatory (when I jumped ship only part way through Act 1). So I came to this performance at the Met with reservations. I willed myself to go because I figured that it’s one of Mozart’s most beloved operas and perhaps I was just missing something. And on paper, this performance looked great: the cast and musical team were made up of people I love to hear, especially Miah Persson as Fiordiligi, who I’ve loved in Mozart since I heard her sing the Mozart Mass in C with the Los Angeles Philharmonic several years ago, and William Christie, whose conducting of Purcell’s The Fairy Queen at BAM was just fabulous to hear. Plus, the Met was pushing this team as a youthful and sexy cast—can’t go wrong with that, right? (Well, you can, but that’s not related to this performance.)

In the end, I thoroughly enjoyed myself last Saturday night (Nov 27). The plot remains ridiculous to me: a silly farce where two men decide test whether, as their friend says, ‘all women are unfaithful’ by disguising themselves as foreigners and wooing the other’s girlfriend really hard. If any one of my “lovers” tried to pull that trick on me I would have slapped him really good. But I imagine one must suspend one's disbelief and allow that Mozart and librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte wrote the thing long before the time of Girl Power®. Nevertheless, it was possible to sit there and just let Mozart’s beautiful music wash over. Sometimes, I just closed my eyes and listened to the music rather than actually observe the bizarre happenings. The score is filled with gorgeous arias, duets, trios, quintets, and more. All of them are exceedingly easy on the ear, and it was even more pleasurable given the stellar vocal performances rendered by the cast. Miah Persson’s voice was warm and enveloping, Pavol Bresslik (Ferrando) bright and clear. Danielle DeNeise was a ham on stage, a pleasure to watch, and William Christie’s conducting was brisk and crisp. The production was straightforward and didn’t take too many interpretive liberties. It just was what it was, but that allowed the music to stand on it’s own—and that was fine by me.

New York City Ballet: Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2, Liebeslieder Walzer

Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2, choreographed by George Balanchine. Photo by Paul Kolnik.

New York City Ballet danced Liebeslieder Walzer and Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2 last week, and I loved seeing Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2 so much that I returned twice more to see the program. It was kind of a relief to see these two Balanchine one-acters back after several weeks in story-ballet land.

Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2, presented at the end of the program, showed Balanchine's choreographic genius at its finest. I marvel at the way steps and patterns unfurl in a seemingly effortless progression over the course of the ballet's 36 minutes. Everything fits so perfectly in the music, as though they all simply belonged there - the music comes to life in an almost thrilling way that is clear, unforced and illuminating. This Tchaikovsky piano concerto is quite possibly more interesting with Balanchine's choreography than it is on its own.

The ballet is classically formal in manner and structure, recalling grand classical ballet at its Russian Imperial height (TPC2 was originally called Ballet Imperial and staged with grand tutus and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling - several companies still dance it this way, but NYCB dances it in a later version using simpler chiffon dresses and an empty stage). The dancing occurs in neat lines and circles of corps dancers that surround a principal couple and soloist ballerina. The dancers behave with a noble, courtly demeanor, bowing to one another as men graciously escort women around the stage, and the dancing looks rigorously academic and classical. What makes it a 20th century ballet instead of an old-fashioned 19th century one is the speed with which the steps are accomplished, and the rather more intricate way that the dancers weave around one another in their stage patterns. No particular story emerges in the ballet, but we see suggestions of a relationship in the pas de deux. The 'narrative' of the piece comes more from the music, and the choreographic ideas that Balanchine neatly fits into it. The bottom line for a viewer is that it that you get to watch plenty of classical ballet at once, choreographed to perfection, and without waiting through mime to get there.

There are also opportunities to see spectacular performances in the principal roles. The main ballerina role starts out with a devilishly tricky solo filled with quick turns and dramatic pauses. It continues with a pas de deux that must look gentle, though the steps are strung together with fast lifts and sudden changes of direction. In the second movement, there is a melting adage, followed by a third movement loaded jumps. The second ballerina in the ballet dances mostly alone; there is one brief section with two supporting cavaliers. This is a mostly flashy role, with lots of jumps and turns. She leads the corps de ballet in several passages leading up to the principal couple.

Ashley Bouder was stunning in the main ballerina role at the midweek performances (pictured to the left and above with Jonathan Stafford as her partner). She has had one heck of a season, with great showings in Firebird, Sleeping Beauty and Swan Lake, and she really outdid herself here. Bouder is short in stature but huge in presence, using the easy flow of her dancing and the clarity with which she illustrates the music to dominate the stage. It's an assured, highly engaging performance that dazzles as much with her technical accomplishment as it does with her personality and musicality. Jonathan Stafford partnered her with confidence and sensitivity - the second movement, when he gazes longingly at the ballerina as she disappears off stage, was particularly affecting.

Teresa Reichlen danced the main role on Friday and Saturday, and though she brought her own qualities to the role - beautifully controlled long limbs, lush phrasing and musicality - she didn't quite match the exuberant vigor of Bouder's interpretation. It was still a good performance though, and her partner Stephen Hanna was wonderful as well (making more of an impression in the role than Stafford).

Kathryn Morgan danced her first performances in the second ballerina role over the weekend (I saw it on Saturday) and was really great in it. Delightfully peppy yet refined and gracious, she held the stage on her own merit while preparing the audience to see the principal couple coming up. Savannah Lowery danced this role at the weeknight shows. She's an interesting-looking dancer: very tall with muscled, broad shoulders and a stocky neck. In classical dress she looks severe and almost uncomfortable, but when she gets moving, you notice that her dancing has a real pop to it. She really explodes with the music and can spin into it in a way that ultimately works. Lowery is not quite as pleasant to watch as Morgan, but you can't fully dismiss her performance either.

The liability in this performance was the corps de ballet. For as long as I have watched New York City Ballet, the corps has always been problematic in these more classical pieces - they seem fine in the more contemporary-looking ones like Agon or Stravinsky Violin Concerto. Balanchine's patterns carry, but the corps looks effortful when performing them. You see them straining to keep up, looking slightly panicked as they rush into formation (it was particularly noticeable in TPC2 at the beginning of the 2nd movement, when two lines of corps dancers swing back and forth behind the male cavalier and two demi-soloists). Other companies that I've seen perform this work have a much cleaner and stylistically secure corps; they seem to have as much a sense of place as the principals. True, they don't dance the ballet quite as quickly as NYCB, but it doesn't look ragged or teetering on the edge of control. Here, its the principals and soloists carrying the ballet through.

Liebeslieder Walzer, choreographed by George Balanchine. Photo by Paul Kolnik.

I've waxed rhapsodic about Liebeslieder Walzer before. Watching it again this season, its beautiful subtleties emerged even more and I had the opportunity to focus on some of the fine performances. I'll give that it's not the easiest ballet for audiences to digest. At each of the three performances that I attended, I frequently heard audience members around me talking about having fallen or sleep, or having "made it" through the slog. The ballet is one hour long, and the first half-hour is just a bunch of waltzing in ball gowns - the music is four hands on a piano with classical voices singing German. Things can (and do) look the same when you're unfamiliar with it. I started there, too, when I first saw it early in my ballet-watching, but came around to it as my musical and dance sophistication has grown.

Jennie Somogyi and Wendy Whelan were the standouts for me this time around, giving beautifully sensitive performances. Their dancing had an impulse that extended beyond the mere execution of the steps: emotion complemented the expansive sweep and flow of their waltzing, and it became particularly poignant in the second act, where they dance on pointe. They connected with their partners - Justin Peck and Jared Angle, respectively - in a way that made it seem like they were alone together on stage, the audience privy to private conversations. The male roles in this ballet appear secondary to the female ones, but they are just as important in providing a solid foundation for their partners. Peck and Angle did this wonderfully for Somogyi and Whelan (Peck's performance was a debut in the ballet).

Janie Taylor, Sebestien Marcovici, Darci Kistler and Philip Neal comprised the other two couples; I found their performances a bit shaky at the start of the run, though by Saturday, the entire group was giving beautiful performances. Kistler and Neal gave their final performances of Liebeslieder in their careers; both will retire at the end of the season. The vocal quartet were wonderful to hear. Ashley Emerson, Katherine Rohner, Michael Slattery and Thomas Meglioranza sang, and I thought Emerson was particularly pleasing in her solo moments. Susan Walters and Richard Moredock were the pianists.

All photos by Paul Kolnik. Top center, and inset (1) and (2) - Ashley Bouder and Jonathan Stafford in Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2, choreography by George Balanchine; inset (3) Teresa Reichlen, pictured here in the second ballerina role, and the New York City Ballet corps de ballet in Piano Concerto No. 2. Second center photo - The 2010 cast of Liebeslieder Walzer, choreography by George Balanchine. Inset (4) - Jennie Somogyi and Justin Peck in Liebeslieder.

New York City Ballet's Swan Lake

Thurs, Feb 11 - Through no particular fault of the company's or the production's (though there is plenty to pick over in the latter), I was pretty bored at New York City Ballet's Swan Lake last Thursday. I think it may have been more of a personal overdose full lengths Swan Lakes. I was antsy through all of divertissements and waltzes, and waited anxiously for them to just get it overwith and hurry along to the main stuff with Odette/Odile and Siegfried. When they did get there, it was actually pretty good - I'm a big fan of Ashley Bouder's dancing in general this season, and as Odette/Odile she gave plenty to marvel at. But I find that I'm increasingly unwilling to sit through two hours of fluff to get the 30 minutes of stuff that I'm actually interested in seeing. At this point I prefer Balanchine's single-act condensation of Swan Lake, which NYCB presented last year. (I realize this may be a very personal view of full-lengths, Swan Lake in particular.)

This production didn't exactly help matters: there's lots of motion, but at the expense of drama. Peter Martins' staging has received mixed reviews for most of its life, so I came in well prepared to expect garish sets and choreographic curiosities. And honestly, neither of those elements were so bad to me. Per Kirkeby's scenery is vague and impressionistic, but it works in a way - the backdrops look like they began with the usual scenes but then the paint ran all over the canvas instead. (Also, I didn't really see the backdrops for most of the show - I was sitting in the 4th Ring). The costumes in the ballroom scenes are cheap looking, but the swans look appropriately wistful and traditional.

On its own, Martins' choreography has a propulsive energy that keeps the dancers constantly dancing throughout the evening - they move through pretty standard but satisfying and efficient stage patterns that serve the music well. But in exchange for constant movement, the drama and mime is almost entirely stripped away. You can have drama without the mime, but here there is neither; you'll have to read the program to know what is being represented on stage. Further, the scenes that traditionally establish character and relationships are musically abridged, so we as an audience don't get much time to connect with the characters we're watching. For example, there is a scene in Act 1 where the Queen arrives to give Siegfried his birthday gift and to tell him that he must choose a bride by his 21st birthday. In this production she briskly walks on, points at a few things, hands over the hunting bow and is gone again in about two minute - Tchaikovsky's musical interlude for this scene is cut roughly in half. I'm all for brisk storytelling (it actually works better in Martins' production of Sleeping Beauty), but here it works against the production. The non-stop dancing - which all looks the same, by the way, despite its efficiency - becomes a blur of motion.

That said, there are some things to like about this production. The final lakeside scene is particularly affecting, and I loved Martins' version of the ending. In the traditional Swan Lake, Siegfried swears his love to Odette, who is being held captive by the evil magician Von Rothbart's spell. Siegfried must remain faithful to her, however, otherwise she is doomed to remain a swan forever. When Von Rothbart tricks Siegfried by sending his evil daughter Odile after him, the lovers appear to be doomed until they both commit suicide by hurling themselves into the lake - Rothbart is vanquished and the lovers reunite in the afterlife. Tragedy with an uplift. In this production, most of the story is the same but instead of committing suicide, the lovers vanquish Rothbart by sheer force of their love. Then, Odette sadly leaves Siegfried and returns to swan form forever, a consequence of the ever powerful spell and of Siegfried's infidelity. She bourrees away from him, both of them resigned to the fate that he has assigned to them - it's rather like Giselle in its heartbreaking finality.

The dancing is the main reason to continually revisit Swan Lake. Ashley Bouder's Odette/Odile is very compelling. She's much faster and active than most Odette (the Russians and many Odettes after them tend to take it at an elegaic pace), but it works: she feels really alive and the performance has an urgency that suggests Odette's struggle. And her dancing is fast, but also controlled and precise, so you see the lines and the choreography very clearly. Given Bouder's technical proficiency, the dazzle of her Odile is not unexpected, but it's still a marvel to watch. The adage was crisp and sexy, her variation was fantastic and her fouettes whipped the audience into a frenzy. Her Prince was Benjamin Millepied, who gets plenty of stage time in the Martins production. He was great in his solo moments, but in Swan Lake, isn't it usually about the ballerina? The swan corps looked very good overall as well. In general, the company takes things at a faster clip than many classical companies (the fleet-footedness is ingrained in the company style), but it fit with Martins' more efficient version of things in this production.

I had initially planned to see all three casts that the company was fielding for this production (Maria Kowroski/Stephen Hanna and Sara Mearns/Jared Angle were the others) but I couldn't bring myself to sit through the whole show just for their moments. All of them are cast in Jewels next week, with plenty of opportunity for ballerina glamour in a much shorter ballet. I decided to skip the rest of the Swans and wait for Jewels.

Inset photo: Ashley Bouder as Odette, photo by Paul Kolnik.

La Fille du Regiment at the Metropolitan Opera

Diana Damrau in Laurent Pelly's production of La Fille du Regiment, photographed at San Francisco Opera by Corey Weaver.

Feb 10 - It was blizzarding outside tonight, but it couldn't have been warmer inside the Met. Laurent Pelly's production of Donizetti's La Fille du Regiment was pure, silly fun. The staging is amusing and hyperactive, and while Pelly's direction makes light of the already silly story, he doesn't cheapen it. The focus is drawn to the heartwarming love story and we get to languish on the vocal high points. And with Diana Damrau as Marie and Juan Diego Florez as Tonio leading this performance, there were plenty of vocal highlights to be had.

I especially loved Damrau in her slow arias, “Il faut partir” at the end of Act 1 and “Par le rang et l’opulence” in Act 2. Florez reliably hit the nine high Cs in "Ah mes amis" (drawing a prolonged ovation from the crowd). I did have a some trouble hearing her over the orchestra in the some of the secondary music, but then she pulled out all the stops again for each of the showcase coloratura moment, so I basically forgot my quibbles. Florez seemed to be having fun but didn't put forth his real spark until "Ah mes a mis" and then his big Act 2 aria. Meredith Arwady was sheer delight as the Marquise of Berkenfeld and Maurizio Muraro hammed it up as Sulpice. Kiri Te Kanawa made the most out of her Act 2 appearance as The Duchess Krakenthorp. She has been a much-loved a star soprano in her own right during her younger days, and here she gave a short song - to the audience's delight - even though her role is a mostly spoken one.

I had seen this production first in the Met's movie theater broadcast, with Natalie Dessay as Marie, on whom Pelly originally staged this production with Florez. I came to tonight's performance with pretty high expectations for a hysterical romp through this opera, but this performance was not nearly as hyper as it was with the Dessay (she takes opera hyper to an entirely different level). Tonight it was just silliness instead of a hilarious romp, but I think I'm okay with that - I was still entertained for the whole two hours and forty five minutes. And I much preferred Damrau's voice to Dessay's. Damrau's voice has a heftier weight to it, which served her very well in the slower arias, thought she was still able to show off in the flighty coloratura moments. Especially after her stunning Carnegie Hall concert three weeks ago, I'm firmly in the Diana Damrau fan club. Her upcoming performances as Rossina in Il Barbiere di Siviglia later this month can't be missed.

Best part of the night: my insane student rush ticket, courtesy of the Metropolitan Opera box office. Presumably due to the snow day and subscriber returns, I was seated 9th row, center. While being so close on the floor probably accounted for some of the orchestra-singer imbalances that I mentioned earlier, it was truly stunning when Florez and Damrau came right in front of me and sang for all they were worth. Amazing.

Inset photos: (1) Juan Diego Florez, photo by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera. (2) Juan Diego Florez and Diana Damrau, photo by Cory Weavers/San Francisco Opera. (3) & (4) Curtain call at the Metropolitan Opera, my photos.