Classical Modern Fusion

After seeing Jerome Robbins’ Glass Pieces in June 2009 during New York City Ballet’s The Architecture of Dance series, I knew I had to see it again. While the pieces performed by the New York City Ballet always impress me, this piece is exceptional. Glass Pieces, choreographed by Jerome Robbins and set to the music of minimalist Philip Glass, premiered in 1983 at Lincoln Center’s New York State Theater (recently renamed the Edward H. Koch Theater) by the New York City Ballet and has been in their repertoire since. This time it was preformed alongside three classical pieces – Chaconne, Concerto Barocco and Tarentella. While Chaconne, choreographed by the George Balanchine Trust, put me to sleep, Concerto Barocco and Tarentella prove to be an outstanding juxtaposition of classical, modern dance, and theater.

Concerto Barocco, also choreographed by the George Balanchine Trust and set to Bach’s Double Violin Concerto in D minor acted as a transition piece from the overly classical Chaconne. With pale-colored costumes and one male dancer, the classical in the ballet quickly become modern as the eight female and single male dancers intertwined themselves. It looked almost like a game played on a “bonding trip” in college, where you have to work together to get out of the giant knot you have formed with your hands. However, no one has ever asked a group to stand en pointe whilst de-knotting themselves. The choreography to Concerto Barocco was entertaining, interesting and, toward the end, modern dance was juxtaposed with a very classical, beautiful piece of music.

After only a short drop of the curtain and bows, Tarentella was performed. Tarentella, also choreographed by the George Balanchine Trust and set to music by Louis Moreau Gottschalk, really evinces the theatricality of ballet. With only two dancers, Tiler Peck and Joaquin De Luz, Tarentella was a lively dance that involved solos amidst almost a dialogue of dance. Before the performance De Luz likened dancing Tarentella to “running a marathon,” which it certainly was. Both performers had few breaks in between solos of spins. Had they not had their center of gravity and spot turning perfect, it would have been a very messy marathon. The upbeat music complemented the high-energy performance perfectly, and kept the audience engaged and applauding until the curtain dropped.

Finally came the first part of Glass Pieces, “Rubric” set to a graph paper backdrop and minimalist, almost strange and celestial-themed music. Since the first time I saw it, Glass Pieces has always had a broader theme of tolerance to it. “Rubric” reminds me of an alien landing. It opens with people walking onstage, crossing from stage left to stage right, in street dress (meaning leotards, stretch-pants and skirts with different color tops and bottoms). All of a sudden, these creatures (dancers dressed in pale, metallic, monochrome outfits) leap onto stage. Amidst the normal people who heed no attention, these aliens begin to dance until there are four alien couples on stage. As the piece continues and the music picks up in tempo, the normal people begin to incorporate flash movement into their walks across stage. During the second part, “Facades,” these normal people dance as silhouettes against a blue backdrop, while a new alien couple dances in the center. The two rely on each other, with the male dancer supporting (but not dragging) the female dancer across the stage. It is an intimate yet eerie piece, because of a more ephemeral sound and the moving silhouettes in the background. “Akhnaten (excerpt),” the third segment, brought all the dancers back together, using only the Corps de Ballet, and had them moving together in fluid movements. Throughout the three pieces, the primary dancers were very separate both in costume and in movement, alienating themselves from the rest of the group. However, there seemed to be no hatred or jealousy in any of the dance segments because of the way the dancers’ movements complemented each other. The background dancers complemented the primary dancers and helped to set them apart while maintaining the tolerance of the outsider, at times even, adapting their movements. The dancers functioned as a unit and, even when one feel during a circle dance in “Akhnaten” she picked herself back up and continued to dance as if nothing had gone wrong at all.

While Glass Pieces stands out as extraordinary amidst the other ballets, the entire night was beautiful. The music was unusual; Concerto Barocco demanded violins, Tarentella featured a piano solo (rare in New York City Ballet) and Glass Pieces was minimalistic and modern. Even the music in Chaconne, by Christoph Willibald Gluck, was beautiful albeit slightly soporific. Between the costumes, the music, the dance and the progression and contrast between the three acts and four pieces, once again the New York City Ballet and their primary dancers did not fail to impress.