In our short discussions on the performances we’ve seen thus far, we have talked a lot about interpreting and understanding a dance/performance, often without looking at other aspects of it. We seek to find meaning but without first understanding how to get to that point, skipping over the details of a piece. On the contrary, Alastair Macaulay focuses his review of New York City Ballet’s Swan Lake on the dancers themselves and the way they bring their character to life–or don’t–and how that is facilitated by the music, costuming, choreography, etc. Though Oliver stresses that “description should make up the main substance” (89), Macaulay sees no need to focus on describing the dance itself since Swan Lake is such a widely known ballet/story; thus, he makes his review different and interesting by discussing the other important, but often forgotten, pieces of the performance.

Macaulay does take time to describe and analyze several of the dancers’ performance, mainly that of Sara Mearns. His focus is on her unique ability to take the well-known dance to new heights through her emotional performance, which brings a deeper level of complexity than is usually portrayed by the Odette/Odile roles. In his review, Macaulay uses a healthy mix of “strong and varied action verbs,” “interesting adjectives,” and other forms of various other word choices. He describes how Mearns interprets the role with “completely authoritative individuality,” with “voluptuous passion” as Odette and “enigmatic, even…[brilliant]” as Odile. She dances as though “riding the full power of a wave.” He continues his focus on her dancing and what she brings to the character by pointing out how though she “stumbled” towards the end of Odile’s fouettes, she remained driven by the emotion and drama of Swan Lake.
Macaulay similarly describes the performances of the other dancers: Tyler Angle is “elegant,…gallant, relatively lightweight and without…specificity;” Brittany Pollack, Tiler Peck, and Joaquin de Luz “found a constant supply of wit and color” and looked “distinguished;” and the corps de ballet “danced with power and passion.”

Macaulay’s main point, however, is in the contrast between the dancing and the orchestration/costumes/colors of the ballet. His review highlights his ability to truly analyze a dance; as Oliver notes, “a critic must be able to make comparisons, determine structures, or place things in context,” (81) all of which Macaulay does. He talks about how the conductor, Daniel Capps, would sometimes slow down the tempo to accommodate the dancer, turning the great orchestration “clumsy.” He then goes on to criticize how the performance, meant to honor the late Albert Evans, only seemed to cast black males in the role of Rotbart. He uses this criticism to transition into his criticism of Peter Martins’ production and of the designs of the dance itself. He calls the costumes “silly,” the color schemes terrible in both concept and execution, and even goes so far as to call a costume “grotesque.” He does then take note of some of what NYCB does well, especially including multiple principals in slightly smaller roles and including many debuts.

Using these facts and observations, Macaulay analyzes the performance as a whole, informing the reader and potential viewers with more than just a review and glimpse at the characters and dancers in the ballet but also at the behind-the-scenes happenings. Unfortunately, Macaulay was unimpressed by Martins’ production and choices, and though he enjoyed the dancers’ performances, he found that NYCB’s Swan Lake is “less than the sum of its parts.”

Jessica Sun