by Leigh Witchel
Balanchine would have been 115 on the opening night of New York City Ballet’s winter season. The company celebrated it with an old birthday gift made new: Balanchine’s trilogy of Stravinsky ballets on Greek mythology, with several debuts.
In his first outing as Apollo, Taylor Stanley began with intense focus; his chin and neck jutted forward in concentration. At first, that focus didn’t reach beyond the footlights. Stanley’s lines have always been beautiful, but the off-balance kicks and skids looked carefully gauged. His purposeful stare seemed lightly manic, the way a cat racing down the halls looks as if it knows what it’s doing, even when you have no clue.
He relaxed when his muses, Indiana Woodward, Brittany Pollack and Tiler Peck, arrived and his own performance became less studied. During his solo, his held up the world like living sculpture, but became feral as he stumbled pulling himself to and fro.
Woodward’s emotions in her solo were like a channel selector, clutching her stomach or collapsing in sobs. Then – ping! – she was up again, smiling. A killer turner, Woodward would be a natural for Polyhymnia, but the part went to Brittany Pollack in another debut. Pollack didn’t have any major problems, but she also didn’t stick any of the tricky endings to the turns that make up the variation. Tiler Peck has done Terpsichore with varying results over the years; on opening night the limpid role seemed to keep her stuck in first gear and she wasn’t able to shift up.
Peck and Stanley’s duet was clear and chaste. After all, it is chaste – Apollo’s interest in the muses is artistic. He put his head in Terpsichore’s hands, she swam on his back. Peck found some sparkle as she reentered for the coda, syncopating her movements as she bopped her hips side to side.
If Stanley recalled anyone in the role, it was Peter Boal. He had Boal’s composed and sculptural beauty, but also the simmering energy underneath that was waiting to be unleashed.
“Orpheus” was remounted with an entirely new cast. We first saw Gonzalo Garcia despondent and facing away from us with his lyre leaning against his calf like a human music stand. The score sped up and the notes made make quick circles round themselves; Garcia came to life. The lead role is up Gonzalo Garcia’s alley; he shines in the corner of Balanchine’s repertory that’s both poetic and jazzy. He finally made his NYCB debut in “Apollo” on Saturday night, nearly 15 years after he did it at San Francisco Ballet.
Peter Walker’s presence as the Dark Angel was gangly and yes, dark. With the role’s gnomic props – the tube, the golden mask and the lyre – he fit into the acid ritual of the ballet. Together the Angel and Orpheus descended as the silk curtain dropped and the luminous stones rose behind.
Sterling Hyltin’s Eurydice was as warm and demandingly affectionate as a kitten butting your hand until you petted her. She kept trying to face Orpheus from any angle, just to get a glance from him. Even with a mask on, Garcia made Orpheus’ agitation clear. You could see his desire mounting until he couldn’t stop himself and tore the thing off.
Stravinsky wanted Eurydice’s death to be simple. It happens on a brief silence and it’s less a death than an evaporation: she once again becomes nothing. No ballerina wants to just dissolve, and Hyltin couldn’t resist a big dramatic breath up before sinking lifeless to the ground.
As seminal as “Orpheus” is to the formation of NYCB’s identity, it’s always had problems, and tinkering throughout the years hasn’t solved them. The churning dance of furies and rocks is very spritely for the underworld. Noguchi had a better grasp in his set designs: a barren landscape with tongues of fire at one side and bones on the other.
In “Agon,” only Lydia Wellington, in the first pas de trois, was new. From early on, “Agon” didn’t have many casts because of the difficulty of rehearsing the piece. It looked difficult on opening night: a loosey-goosey cast seemed caught by surprise by Andrew Litton’s brisk tempos. Some of the dancers dealt with it by throwing themselves around.
Anthony Huxley, who excels in post-Balanchine repertory, is carving a niche in the core Balanchine works. His route in seemed to start with Melancholic, but that also requires a more emotional delivery than the reserved Huxley usually gives. Here in a role that’s less moody, Huxley had more flavor: clean but tough as he came forward and bowed, cool as he soft-shoed in the coda, slapping his feet and shimmying. Wellington, alongside Unity Phelan, clapped as they picked their way round a circle: the women snapped their fingers on a silent beat in the opening, the men clapped silently in the second pas de trois to imitate the castanets. It’s one of the most amazing things about “Agon.” Balanchine didn’t only choreograph to the music, he penned another stave in the score.
Megan LeCrone, who can be so cool when she dances the main pas de deux, was much wilder in the second pas de trois. Her body seemed to become all sharp angles: wrists and elbows. Squiring her, Devin Alberda and Daniel Applebaum paired well both physically and in attack. They also stayed at the edge of control as they pushed their pelvises forward and threw their heads back.
Leading the ballet, Maria Kowrowski was as loose as anyone else and had more opportunity to show it. She dove farther into penchée as Tyler Angle plummeted below her down to the floor. Where others collapse on the final plucked notes, they ended the duet in an embrace.
And so, Happy Birthday, George. Your company is still feeling its way out of a dark era, but your presents arrived. Some were shinier, some duller, but they were largely intact. At 115, it could be worse.
copyright © 2019 by Leigh Witchel
“Apollo,” “Orpheus,” “Agon” – New York City Ballet
Lincoln Center, New York, NY
January 22, 2019
Cover: Taylor Stanley in “Apollo.” Photo © Erin Baiano.
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