This fall, NYCB kicked off the celebration of their 75th anniversary dedicating the entire season to the work of George Balanchine, the company’s co-founder and artistic realizer. On the night of October 11th, to memorialize the first-ever performance of The New York City Ballet at New York City Center, the company put on the exact same program, a triple-bill featuring Concerto Barroco (Emilie Gerrity, Unity Phelan, Andrew Veyette), Orpheus (Jacob Gordon, Peter Walker), and Symphony in C (Megan Fairchild, Jacon Gordon, Sara Mearns, Tyler Angle, Emma Von Enck, Roman Meiijia, Indiana Woodward, Troy Schumacher) first performed 75 years ago.
Each season acts as a litmus test for New York City: where does the company find itself in that exact moment? The question seems prescient even now, two years after COVID and five years after the departure of Peter Martins who, though a man of questionable moral character, appeared to know something of how to run a ballet company. I wish, prior to his exit, his knowledge had been better disseminated to his successors. The current artistic leadership, in what can only be understood as a lack of assurance, presents the company as if its current permutation eclipses those of its past. They continually fail to rely on City Ballet’s storied history and established practices. How ironic that this disconnection appeared even during a season of self-reflection!
The leadership’s uncertainty reflects most notably by ignoring The NYCB method of cultivating the corps de ballet and relying on the more mature and seasoned senior corps members for particular ballets in the repertoire. The implicit separation between corps members, compared to companies that have official rank distinctions like Second Soloists, is a City Ballet trademark: years in the company allow mere technical know-how to translate into artistic interpretation. Nowhere was this oversight more apparent than in Concerto Barrocco, a technically demanding ballet with a small cast normally reserved for senior dancers, which that evening featured many fresh faces.
Recent seasons point towards the absence of more veteran ensemble members, not only in performances but in the company’s DNA. New York City Ballet is responsible for the careers of corps dancers like Marika Andersen (who retired during the 2023 winter season), Faye Arthurs, Linkolani Brown, Amanda Hankes, Gretchen Smith, and countless others including Dena Abergel, the Children’s Repertory Director at The School of American Ballet. It’s a funny thing, having been a ballet student myself and attended summer programs with women who are now professional dancers, that we’ve collectively reached the age on which a senior status can be bestowed. But it can’t be denied that the corps members after a certain age (say 24) should be understood as more artistically formed than their younger counterparts.
To draw this distinction doesn’t undermine the achievement of the younger dancers. Merely getting into New York City Ballet is an achievement offered to only a few of an already highly accomplished pool of dancers. Similarly, to be in New York City Ballet at all, even if a dancer never leaves the ensemble, is to have a vigorous and artistically challenging career. The corps’ presence makes most of the Balanchine repertoire performable, especially in ballets like Serenade, Vienna Waltzes, Tchaikovsky Suite No. 3, and Stars and Stripes, to name only a few. A 2013 promotional video for, ironically, Concerto Barroco, features current soloist Ashley Laracey (then a corps member) discussing the particularity of dancing as a corps member in City Ballet in the amount they get to dance. Most American ballet companies rely on the corps as filler, though this may be changing. “We don’t want to be those people who stand on the side and wave a rose,” Laracey remarks. Not only do they not want to be, they can’t be!
And yet, the difference in expectations for older dancers should be respected. It marks the time, space, and distance, between years spent training at The School of American Ballet and life as a professional ballerina. It becomes concerning when a company seems to imply that a dancer’s mere technical ability is enough to cast the dancer in anything. The decision to feature new company members begs a question about youth and its place within casting. Physical ability does not always mirror artistry, and when the former is used in ballets that demand the latter, they lack the splendor, subtlety, and significance normally associated with Balanchine’s masterworks. Barocco demands maturity. The pacing and lifeline of the ballet ask for a discernment that a young dancer doesn’t have yet. It can only be afforded through time spent as a company member. Becoming a ballet professional only happens in the context of a professional company. It takes time to shed the identity of a ballet student, even if, indeed, you were the star of your class.
Given the youth of the chosen cast for Barroco (although Olivia Boisson, Jacqueline Bologna, and Janzelle Manzi – all senior corps dancers – danced), the ballet looked unfocused and hurried. The dancers, many of whom display deer-in-headlight-like gazes, rushed through the steps dancing under themselves given their hastened pace. Instead of the satisfying experience this ballet promises, which should include electric, bold, and large movements, it fizzles under the weight of its execution. The dancers, collectively, lacked the necessary finesse for the piece.
The corps, in Barocco, is not only a connected unity but sets the pace for the two principal dancers. The principals (each representing one of the two violins in Bach’s Double Violin concerto) mirror their corps in synchronicity and energy. It’s an unfair burden, and responsibility, to cast younger dancers of the corps for such a demanding ballet, and it’s a disservice to the more seasoned professionals within the corps. The company should use this ballet to highlight the senior dancers like Laine Habony, Megan Dutton-O’Hara, and Alston Macgill (who doesn’t seem to perform that often) — these ballerinas serve as examples of seasoned ensemble members, and also formed artists in their own right.
Despite the state of Barocco, Emile Gerrity offered a noteworthy performance. She was strong and defiant and held her own to her co-lead Unity Phelan. Gerrity’s moves were thoughtful and punctuated as she danced with intention, filling the stage with a sense of clarity and demonstrated ability. Although confidence suits her, it’s rare to see this quality in Gerrity, whose performances often offer either an air of force or generally a lack of distinction. The intention of a more punchy effect gives off a competition-y feeling closer to the unyieldingness present in Indiana Woodward’s early dancing or in the performances of former soloist Ashly Issacs– although Issacs was sensational in Peck’s Times are Racing. In the case of Gerrity, when she deploys a more forceful approach, it looks alien to her body, which promises something more subtle and accentuated. Gerrity seems a bit lost and unsure of her place in the company – despite her most fabulous arabesque, arguably the best of the troupe – but her performance on Wednesday evening pointed to her potential to find a unique contribution within herself.
Orpheus, the next ballet, was another victim of the company’s tension in its history and artistic deviation from its roots. The ballet, which relies heavily on costumes and sets made by Isamu Noguchi, looks dated. I wonder if the costumes should in some way be updated or altered so as not to be a source of spectacle, in a way that most of the costumes for The Fashion Gala tend to be. There is certainly an argument for the face coverings in the Hades scene, where the creatures dance with reckless abandon – I wondered if there was a correlation. Joseph Gordon displayed the deep and necessary vulnerability in the titular role. Your heart breaks in the pas de deux. You feel how badly Euridice wants to see his face and love him. Once the fatal act is done, and his love is slowly taken away from him, you can’t help but curse the Gods and the recklessness of youth.
The costumes aren’t only spectacular, but sexual. The women don jumpsuits with shell-like objects placed over their breasts and pubic regions. It’s a rather self-conscious acknowledgment of the body that is not often present in ballet. Despite the program note explaining that it was THIS ballet, at the 1948 performance, that made Morton Baum bring to New York City Ballet to Lincoln Center, I wondered if the radicality of this piece – in its use of myth, in the collaboration between Noguchi, Balanchine, and Stravinsky, in the nature of its choreography – is lost on its dancers. There were many SAB students in the audience that evening. What must they have thought of this historical and radical ballet? As students, they aspire to join the ranks of City Ballet. Did they take this ballet in, or merely consider it filler? Did they sense Balanchine’s ingenuity or, in going beyond the normal associations of ballet – beauty, poise – did they find it strange?
The evening ended with Symphony in C, which is so very Balanchine. Even though it is a deeply classical work – the ballerinas wear tutus and tiaras, it’s hierarchic and creates the atmosphere of a court – the choreography is extremely ambitious and dance-y. A lot of classical ballets tend to be about the poses and spectacle rather than actual movement. Symphony thwarts this association by demanding so much from every single dancer on stage.
The four different sections, which really are their own ballets, perfectly match the sentiment and timing of Bizet’s score as Balanchine channels four entirely different sensations. The First is an energetic welcome. The Second is a melodic and wistful journey evoking forests – perhaps a precursor to Copeland’s plains – with a hesitancy, mirrored through a series of trust fall-like catches in the central pas de deux. Sara Mearns, one of the stars of the company, danced the lead. She seemed distracted, almost bored. At the end of the section, her balletic runs off stage turned into walking with her arms held lifelessly to her sides. This is not the first time I’ve seen Mearns opt for marking during a formal performance on stage.
The Third section is an energetic explosion with almost a line-dance quality to it. The lead woman (danced by the tremendous Emma Von Enck, who has such crispness in her dancing, especially her transitions which she always accentuates) seems almost Western-like as she corrals the corp to dance along with her and her partner. The two leads seem to achieve full split leaps without having to plié. They both, (Roman Mejia danced as Von Enck’s partner), soared through the air seamlessly. Anything to keep spirits high!
The final movement has an anticipatory feel. This is the section where everyone comes back together on stage, an ending that sort of resembles a Shakespearean play. Balanchine often uses this dramaturgical tactic in his ballets. Bring everyone back together to show unity and continuity. Though all the dancers had their separate sections, they were but one. It almost mirrors the philosophy of the corps dancers, particularly the senior members, who are both a part of something larger and also individual dancers.
