Patricia Delgado in Balanchine’s Serenade. Photo by Paul Kolnik.
I remember a time when it was informally called “The School,” as if the School of American Ballet, founded by George Balanchine and Lincoln Kirstein as the breeding ground for what would become the New York City Ballet, were the only teaching institution in America guaranteed to produce top-notch classical dancers. This was not the case even back then and it is certainly not the case now, but SAB is still the only American academy ranked with the schools of St. Petersburg’s Kirov Ballet (Balanchine’s alma mater), Moscow’s Bolshoi Ballet, and the Paris Opera Ballet.
On January 14th the New York City Ballet gave a one-time-only performance to celebrate the 75th anniversary of its illustrious academy, which is responsible for at least the final years of training of most of the dancers in the company. (The majority of the youngsters one sees performing children’s roles in Balanchine’s ballets with such precision and charm leave the school by their early teens—because of disappointing physical or technical development, a diminishing commitment to a demanding art that devours childhood, loss of interest to sports and the opposite sex—to be replaced by others from wider geographic horizons who have proven themselves elsewhere to be professional dancers in the making.)
Yet training at SAB, especially in late adolescence, often serves as the prelude to a career with the City Ballet. Then, years later, when the SAB/NYCB dancer retires from the stage, he or she may continue passing on the institutions’ approach to dance as teachers, coaches, stagers, and artistic directors of distinguished companies. Edward Villella is a vivid example. Entering SAB as a young boy, he became a memorable NYCB principal dancer, and since 1986 has been artistic director of the Miami City Ballet, which is celebrated for the authenticity and vitality of its Balanchine productions.
The all-Balanchine repertoire for the anniversary program pulled no punches: Serenade (the first ballet the choreographer created in the States), Tarantella (a virtuoso duet fueled equally by high exuberance and wit), The Four Temperaments (an early masterwork demonstrating Balanchine’s use of the traditional classical vocabulary and principles for striking modern purposes), and Vienna Waltzes (the lush, poignant last movement of which has been chosen by several unforgettable ballerinas for their farewell to the stage.)
To indicate the national and international extent of the school’s influence, in all but the last of these works, the City Ballet dancers were joined by eight guest artists, all SAB alums, who have become principals with other companies. The only component regrettably absent from the casting was a sprinkling of advanced students from the school itself. They would have been in their element.
Margaret Severin-Hansen in Balanchine’s Tarantella. Photo by Paul Kolnik.
Generally, though, the idea of the program seemed right. Unhappily, its execution was something of a disappointment. With one exception, the guests were not wonderful enough. The exception was Patricia Delgado (Miami City Ballet), a striking dark beauty whose dancing is powerful, juicy, and rhythmically acute. She made me want to see her in lots of other roles. Presumably we’ll all have a chance to do just that when her company makes its New York City debut at the City Center, January 21-25.
Serenade’s two other female leads were Julie Diana (Pennsylvania Ballet) and Misa Kuranaga (Boston Ballet). Their skills were adequate, of course, or they wouldn’t have been there, but neither set my heart on fire. Diana made more of a theatrical drama of the ballet than the dance drama that Balanchine created simply out of steps and patterns to music. (Those outside the immediate Balanchine circle are inclined to make the fatal mistake of thinking that dance is incomplete or incomprehensible without “acting.”) Kuranaga, elfin in figure, light and swift, reminded me of George MacDonald’s Light Princess—lacking in gravity. Their City Ballet partners, Craig Hall and Philip Neal, handled these imported ladies with sympathy and aplomb, but the homegirl corps was raggedy at times (especially in matters of spacing) and danced without particular intention, as if they were just doing their job.
In Tarantella Margaret Severin-Hansen (Carolina Ballet), encouraged by the over the top jokiness of her City Ballet partner, Daniel Ulbricht, forced the wit and gaiety of the choreography. Both dancers had vivacity and technique to spare, but without subtlety to temper it, the performance was tinged with vulgarity.
The Four Temperaments boasted a guest artist in each of its movements. Lucien Postlewaite (Pacific Northwest Ballet) offered a fairly eloquent portrayal of hapless self-pity in the Melancholic movement, though he, too, gave in a little to melodrama. American Ballet Theatre’s Paloma Herrera was unfathomably miscast in Sanguinic. The role is best taken by a lean, long-limbed woman. Herrara has the build of a soubrette, and her firm technique isn’t enough to make her credible in the part. Damian Smith (San Francisco Ballet) was pleasant in Phlegmatic, but not nearly strange enough (the role has a gargoylish element), while the American-born Amy Watson (Royal Danish Ballet) wasn’t nearly fast or precise enough, fierce enough, or dangerous enough, leading Choleric.
The home team was on its own for Vienna Waltzes, leaving the audience free to imagine any guests it pleased in the leading roles—a frivolous game, no doubt, but one that might also provide some revealing insights into the state of ballet today.
