Posts Tagged ‘Robert Wilson’

A Triumphant Damnation.

Wednesday, January 27th, 2016

By:  Frank Cadenhead

There was a torrent of boos at the December 11 opening of Berlioz’ La Damnation de Faust at the Paris Opéra and it started even before the intermission. Critical reaction to the production was of a similar nature. When I saw the production on December 29, there was only a single person booing and the general applause was clearly enthusiastic. For me, the evening was a major success with extraordinary musical values and a probing, thoughtful production that went to the core of the Faust legend. Is there a problem with opera as an intelligent media? Has the presentation of opera slid into a rut, expecting everyone in the audience to re-experience a familiar story. In the past few decades, some directors challenged that premise and had to endure the wrath of both the audience and critics. Should world opera’s directors play to the crowd or seek a higher artistic level of thought. I imagine that Stéphane Lissner, in his new role heading the Opéra National de Paris, is trying to move the bar up. Berlioz’ “légende dramatique“ is a retelling of Goethe’s Faust and opera can be as intellectually challenging at a classic novel or a new work of art

When I was a young man, one visit to Sea World in San Diego stayed with me. In the huge tank, two Killer Whales were having sex, something extraordinary to witness. They both turned in vast circles, finally bumping fronts for just a second or two. The male’s member was humanoid in size and barely noticeable. Sometimes they connected, and often didn’t, but they continued their slow dance over and over. This experience left me with two thoughts. One was the realization that arms are an important tool for love-making. The other was a reminder that the compulsion of sex and reproduction is central to understanding human behavior.

You can see this long, circular dance repeated over and over in literature, theater, art, film, poetry and opera. Yes, opera. Those chance meetings, those jealous rages, falling in love, etc., are all part, like our mammalian friends, the whales, of the great circle of compulsive sexual desire and reproduction, the very means to allow the human race to escape extinction. Those who compose poems, carve statues or make rockets which go to Mars are still, at the core, animals in the circular sexual dance. This desire is always, in conversation, dressed up and usually covered with the sauce of denial.

The sauce of denial was in full view on opening night. Alvis Hermanis’ production makes clear his scripted intent at the very start. We see, before the music starts, a large group assembled and 20 are selected to stand in little cubicles. We see names, ages, and a sentence about their life. These represent some actually chosen by NASA in February of last year from some 200,000 applicants. NASA selected 100 candidates to be transported to Mars in 2016 to establish a colony of humans on the Red Planet. With no “return ticket,” this will be a colony intended build homes, to grow and reproduce in the hostile environment. (Whether or not any budget will actually fully fund this project is another story but the planning is precise and clear.)

566577340000000000000000_MEDIUM

These 20 dancers, almost immediately after their introduction, begin their coupling with sexual interactive ballet movements that continue throughout the opera with an ironic stricture which allows nothing sensual or erotic. The intertwining is clearly meant to be biology at work and, at one point, in case anyone misses the idea, a glass box is on stage with Adam and Eve represented. What does this have to do with the Faust legend? Bryn Terfel’s masterful Méphistophélès, hip flask at the ready, is always one to remind Faust of his interior libido and takes him around the world an into space. The lovely film images of Katrīna Neiburga with those jellyfish and, yes, even whales, continually evoke the continuity of life.

566577480000000000000000_MEDIUM

The image of scientist Stephen Hawking is every present. Now motorized chair-bound and without even a voice, has not let his impairments affect his thinking. His constant effort to search the outer and inner limits of our tiny world makes him the world’s best known scientist. His mute character in this production, almost always on stage, is not by accident. He has said specifically that, in the next thousand years or so, the earth might be hit by a comet or experience some other catastrophe which could destroy all life. Another colony on another planet might continue the existence of the human race which is, so far as any of us know, the only advanced one in the universe. He repeated this urgent request, as was reported in newspapers, just two weeks ago. Hawking as the new century’s Faust is not a far reach.

The production is available on Culturebox and can be easily found on YouTube and is strongly recommended.Tenor Jonas Kaufmann as an existential Faust heads a dream cast with the Marguerite of Sophie Koch and the blazing Bryn Terfel as the devil incarnate. The remarkable and haunting production of Schoenberg’s Moses and Aaron which was the first new production of this season is also to be found on YouTube. With the engaging new production of Dukas’ Bluebeard’s Castle paired with Poulenc’s La voix humaine, with the astounding soprano, Barbara Hannigan, Lissner, in his second season as the Opéra director but presenting the first season he actually designed, has indeed moved the bar and is demanding a rethink of what opera finally represents. It is an interesting time for opera in Paris.

 

Plonk

Sunday, September 30th, 2012

By James Jorden

Of hundreds of juicy anecdotes in Ken Mandelbaum’s indispensable volume Not Since Carrie: 40 Years of Broadway Flops, one stands out perhaps a little more than the others. It’s about a show called Reuben Reuben which closed out of town in 1955. This was a through-composed absurdist piece by Mark Blitzstein, and Mandelbaum reports that on the opening night of the show over 300 audience members walked out of the Shubert Theater in Boston. (more…)

Curating Currents: Robert Wilson at The Guggenheim

Monday, March 21st, 2011

By Rachel Straus

The mot du moment in the New York dance scene is “curate.” Dances are usually presented, but museums—From the Whitney to the Museum of Arts & Design—are getting in on the fun. Museums, however, don’t present. And so the fifth “Works & Process” program at the Guggenheim Museum was called “Watermill Quintet—Robert Wilson Curates New Performances” (March 13-14)

With a sold-out audience on March 14, the Peter B. Lewis Theater hummed with excitement. Then began Andrew Ondrejcak’s Veneration #1: The Young Heir Takes Possession of the Master’s Effects. What a title! But the headline bore little relationship to the stage action. Ondrejcak ran in his underwear on a treadmill for about 15 minutes. An excerpt of composer-violinist Michael Galasso’s Les Fables de la Fontaine (a 2004 co-commission with Wilson from the Comédie-Française) created a suitably intense, modernist musical landscape.

Like Wilson’s Einstein on the Beach (1976), the work that put the Texas-born director on the international avant-garde theater map, Veneration included repetition (running), dramatic lighting (by Wilson and John Torres), and a recognizable tone (deadly seriousness). When Ondrejcak fell off the treadmill, I looked at my program notes to find:

“Leading up to the death of his father in 2010, Ondrejcak devised Veneration #1: The Young Heir Takes Possession of the Master’s Effects, in which he isolates and observes the body’s process of physical weakening (and eventual failure)…”

This reviewer did a double take, unsure of whether the program notes corresponded to the stage proceedings. But they did. And so the serious study of the program notes (throughout the show) became part of the performance. Connecting the moving images on stage with the long descriptions of four 15-minute works and six video interludes—created by five artists who had been mentored by Wilson in 2010 at his Watermill Center—became the elusive goal.

Some works seemed to be about so much, as in the case of The Dorothy K.: Shorter Are the Prayers in Bed, but More Heartfelt, which included blood soaked costumes by Anna Telcs. Another seemed to be about so little, as with MOMENT-a duet for one, which involved the choreographer Marianna Kavallieratos and Thanassis Akokkalidis’ moving and sitting across from each other in chairs.

The works bore little relationship to each other. The press release stated that Wilson had made a “visual and performative framework.” In the end, the event felt like subterfuge for the obvious: The star of the show was Wilson. The curator is the new rock star. Performance theory jargon isn’t just for academics. Artists can spin profundities about their creations with mots mysteres. If this approach fostered intellectual stimulation or comedy, that would have been fabulous. But on March 14 at the Guggenheim it created consternation, and multiple departures by formerly excited audience members.

 

 

Mining the Past: A New Giselle, a Restaged Robert Wilson Ballet, and Charles Reinhart

Monday, January 17th, 2011

by Rachel Straus

Finding clues to a lost dance resembles detective work. If you’re the Sherlock Holmes type, dance reconstructions can become obsessively fascinating. On January 9 and 10, the Guggenheim Museum’s popular Works + Process series hosted Pacific Northwest Ballet—Giselle Revisited.

Under the artistic directorship of former New York City Ballet principal Peter Boal, PNB is undertaking a 170-year reconstruction of the French ballet. At the Guggenheim, Boal—alongside dance scholars Doug Fullington and Marian Smith—offered the sold-out crowd a Giselle history-mystery lesson, some mesmerizing mime, and bits of glorious dancing performed by Carrie Imler, Carla Körbes, James Moore, and Seth Orza.

PNB is reconstructing the ballet from a rare 1860s score once used by the ballet’s composer Adolphe Adam. The score includes note-for-note annotations of the mime and dancing. When Giselle scholar Smith got her hands on this score, recently purchased by a Cologne archive, she bent Boal’s ear. His patrons partially funded the reconstruction. PNB’s new-old Giselle will premiere this June in Seattle: Pacific Northwest Ballet Giselle Performances

The best part of the January 10 lecture-demonstration was when the dancers mimed the passages while Smith read descriptions of their action from the score. Given greater understanding of how the narrative details coincide with the musical passages, the dancers mimed with a purpose usually reserved for the ballet’s pure dancing scenes. When James Moore (Hilarion) expressed his concern that Carla Körbes (Giselle) had fallen for a two-faced cad (Loys/Albrecht), his body and face transformed. Moore’s miming is unaffected and intense. In these gestural moments, he stole the show.

What was less convincing was Doug Fullington’s part of the presentation, where he discussed this reconstruction’s use of Stepanov notation. Unlike music scores, notations rarely give the full scope of the choreography. Nicholas Sergeyev, who recorded Russian Imperial Ballet dances from the late 19th and early 20th century, used Stepanov notation. When Sergeyev fled Russia after the 1917 Revolution, he took his Stepanov notation scores (including Giselle) with him.  The Royal Ballet, previously called Sadler’s Wells, became the recipient of Sergeyev’s knowledge.

But here’s the rub. There is much documentation (from RB founder Dame Ninette de Valois and others) about how Sergeyev’s notation and memory possessed major holes.

In light of this information, it was odd that Fullington presented the Stepanov score as something relatively concrete. Boal was more candid. He told the audience that due to the gaps in their reconstruction, they were looking at Giselle productions by the Paris Opera Ballet and others for inspiration.

The evening ended with Act II’s grand pas de deux, a major artistic and technical endeavor for any ballerina. If this Works + Process in any indication, Carla Körbes is going to rise to the occasion in the female lead. From every pore of Körbes’s dancing body radiated the desire to make this Giselle matter.

**

Another unearthing from Terpsichore’s past came care of the Martha Graham Dance Company. The 85-year-old troupe is reviving Robert Wilson’s 1995 Snow on the Mesa. The commissioned work—made fours years after Graham’s death and in homage of her life and art—will open the company’s New York season (March 15-20) at the Rose Theater. New York Times dance critic Anna Kisselgoff described Snow on the Mesa as “a must see, with the marvelous Graham company projecting drama to the hilt.” (New York Times 1995 review)

On January 11, two sections of Mesa were performed for an invited group at the company’s cramped Upper East Side headquarters. Wilson, whose only attempt at modern dance making is Mesa, references some of Graham’s enduring interests: developing imperiously sexual female characters, costuming her men in loin cloths, and using set designs (particularly Noguchi’s) as landscapes to depict the subconscious and the forbidden.

Mesa appears to be a lovingly rendered homage. It doesn’t, however, white wash Graham’s leviathan personality, which dominated the stage through her choreography for her heroines (whose roles she initially performed). When dancer Xiaochuan Xie (as Graham) sauntered across a set of low white benches, they became a catwalk, a fitting platform to taunt her male consort, Ben Schultz (as Erick Hawkins).

At the Rose Theater in March, the company will offer four different programs, seven Graham works and a world premiere by Bulareyaung Pagarlava. In the last decade, the troupe underwent a trial by fire (see New York Times coverage of legal battle). In this decade the Martha Graham Company will hopefully be able to focus on their repertory treasure and future.

**

Last week included a third spectacle devoted to looking back. On January 14 at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, several hundred sat in celebration of the American Dance Festival director Charles Reinhart. Reinhart’s children largely organized his 80th birthday event, which also served as a goodbye ceremony. Reinhart will retire from his 41-year-old post soon. His second-in-command Jodee Nimerichter will take over the reigns of the summer festival, located at Duke University in North Carolina.

Because Reinhart is a dance man, the assumption was that dance performance would be the main event at his celebration.

Though there were performances by Pilobolus, Eiko & Koma, Shen Wei, and Paul Taylor Dance Company, dance was only part of the proceedings. A film about Reinhart, made by his daughter Ariane, started the evening. It was quaint. It was a home movie. In picture after picture, natty Reinhart is captured posing for the camera, with a bravura associated with the modern dance choreographers he championed.

Following the movie, Master of Ceremonies Mark Dendy took center stage. A choreographer known to play the bad boy, Dendy was dressed as Martha Graham (in a gold lame gown). While the movie presented Reinhart as something of a dance prince, Dendy’s snarky remark— “Charles has influenced all the artists of the world”—created a hushed stillness in the theater.

The evening ricocheted between the intimate (Reinhart’s friends and family spoke) and the professional (companies performed, Anna Kisselgoff lectured). Reinhart’s kids are clearly not veteran presenters. Perhaps they should have left the show’s programming up to dad.