Ten years ago, the New York City Ballet hosted its first fashion gala. “Bal de Couture” Choreographed by Peter Martins and designed by Valentino. Shocking red and hot pink pointe shoes. The normally smooth and muscular dancer’s legs suddenly transform into balloon art.
That was a lesson I never forgot.When it comes to dance and fashion, fashion – its resources, its stars, its seasonal novelty – has the upper hand. It has continued, leaving choreographers and dancers to second-rate collaborators. Other than raising funds, how do these events contribute to ballet? And how do they hope to build a smart audience out of those unfamiliar with the art form?
Although there are exceptions, fashion gala ballets and their costumes rarely survive into the repertoire. Instead, the tenure of the event shows the slow erosion of dance—steps, musicality, theatrical momentum. Clothes always get in the way.but fashion and dance should do it get along; ballet, like fashion, is part meat, part fantasy. Glory comes when they are on equal terms, when one does not wear the other.
City Ballet’s foray into the fashion world is the brainchild of Sarah Jessica Parker, Vice Chair of the City Ballet Board of Directors. She wasn’t in attendance Wednesday night, but she was honored at the gala. In her speech, her colleague and friend, writer, director and producer Michael Patrick King said that Parker was “under sudden and devastating circumstances that forced her to stay with her family. I said.
Many people were looking forward to her dress. As a former dancer who loves fashion, she wanted to hear what she had to say.
Of course, the show went on without her. The City Ballet, which kicked off its program at the David H. Koch Theater, safely performed the fourth movement and finale of George Balanchine’s Symphony in C. It was a case of putting the show stopper in first, not last. The evening featured premieres by Kyle Abraham and Gianna Reisen and his first live performance of Justin Peck’s “Solo,” choreographed for the company’s virtual spring gala movie directed by Sofia Coppola last year. rice field.
Without Coppola’s angle and artistry, “Solo” lost its luster, flattened by the predictable patterns of choreography and a wistful look at what was known as Anthony Huxley’s Modern Dance Corner. Despite the presence of senior dancers, it felt a little melodramatic and a little aimless.
Instead of a practice outfit, Huxley wore a new outfit by Raf Simons – polka-dot tights, a red top, shorts, and a loose-fitting blazer (well, part of it). Alone on stage, he looked like a remnant of a forgotten ballet. He’s a clown without sleeves.
Sometimes I wish City Ballet would just hire Rei Kawakubo and quit. She went through almost everything her fashion gala attempted and nothing more.when she designed the costume “Scenario” by Merce Cunningham In 1997, there was no posture. Wearing designs drawn from her collection – garments enhanced with unsightly bumps and bumps – performers moved with precision and freedom, changing the way the dancer’s body (or any body) looked.
But beyond costumes, another curiosity at the gala came in the form of the composer. Solange Knowles was incredibly cool with his call to curtains. In “Playtime”, his third work in his ballet The City of Risen, Knowles provided his score for his first ballet.
In this vibrant, jazzy composition, a repetitive, dreamy concoction featuring a constant back-and-forth between piano and horn, the dancers were constantly propelled through space and then pulled back to rest. His legs dance in the air in time with the sound. The title was not misplaced.
But in the end, there wasn’t much Reisen could do, constrained by the structure of the score and her ballet costumes.Her designer, Alejandro Gómez Palomo, created for Palomo Spain a version of the 80s power suit with flashy, geometric silhouettes (sharp shoulders, parachute pants) and encrusted with crystals. It was a thousand thousand of Swarovski crystals. What does Liza wear to brunch after jazz class? Maybe something like this.
The way the dancers twirled around the stage like pixies was flashy and sometimes cute — Indiana Woodward, in her triumphant exuberance, flew into the air with a sophisticated glow, or like a sad clown. Dancers swooped down to greet glittering friends and leap to reflect the ups and downs of the score by placing themselves in family portrait formations.
But they lived less in dancing than existing in holiday displays. It must have been long. As they approach each other, they turn sideways and wriggle their arms—seemingly as a cue to keep a safe distance. What do you want from Laysen? The city ballet has allowed her to dance with her own collaborators in its regular program. was. She doesn’t need a gimmick.
For the evening’s final ballet, Abraham announced a follow-up “The Runaway” His hit from the 2018 Fashion Gala. For “Love Letter (on shuffle),” he chose to work again with designer Giles Deacon, setting the dance to music by James Blake. It was very depressing.
“Love Letter” started out promisingly with a solo by Jonathan Fawley. Jonathan Fawley is a gifted dancer with subtle physical articulation, from quietly trembling shoulders to hips to flexing thighs. Looseness comes with buttery precision. Here, too, throughout, Fowley blended into Abraham’s classic, everyday position. He both envelops them and lets them envelop him. If the ghost of Taylor Stanley’s famous performance of “Runaway” hung over “Love Letter,” it was Fawley who helmed the stage.
However, “Love Letter” was too long and used overly moody lighting by Dan Scully to capture more than the basic outlines of Deacon’s costume, which emphasized Renaissance silhouettes and modern prints. The cast, an exciting range of personalities and body types, began to blend in. The darkened stage and costume combinations were a feast for the eyes. Suddenly, the dancers looked like the characters in “Cats” who had been stripped of their fur.
Tyler Peck has always excelled in contemporary productions with his barbed aggression and daring speed, galloping across the stage in an equally deft way of inserting air and spirit into the music’s meandering moments. In short solos and duets, Ruby Lister graced the stage with a stylish, old-school elegance reminiscent of 1970s dancers. Christopher Grant and Peter Walker, lined up in feathered headdresses, reached the end of their duet and clapped their hands. This is a rare example in a ballet that gives skin.
But as the sections and songs progressed, there was less and less hope that the fragmented “love letter” would yield a greater whole. However, they were scattered. As well as the varnish of broken and unbroken relationships that Abraham created on stage. In the end, the romance between Fawley and Harrison Ball was allowed to blossom in a way that they simply fell into each other’s arms rather than a cheesy, passionate embrace. It was a rare moment that not only imitated life, but illuminated it.