Review: New York City Ballet's Prodigal Son and Liebeslieder Walzer

The wait is finally over!!! An artistic director for New York City Ballet has been named. Or should I say, two artistic directors?

To clarify: Jonathan Stafford is the new Artistic Director of NYC Ballet and its affiliated School of American Ballet, and Wendy Whelan takes on the title of Associate Artistic Director of NYC Ballet. So much has been written about them in the past few days, that I'll take the opportunity not to say much.

Before the performance began on February 28, both were brought before the curtain to a round of loud applause. They gave short speeches--how they look forward to their new positions, what a challenge it will be, the New York City Ballet of the future.

That's the same night allegations about Barbara Horgan, Balanchine's longtime personal assistant, the executor of his will, and the founder and general partner of the Balanchine Trust appeared in the Washington Post, accusing her of mishandling funds.

Why hasn't this appeared in the New York Times? I'm still searching for it.

Give it time. The kvetching will start---although I hope not too loudly.

The big news of the evening, at least for some in the audience, was the appearance of Edward Villella, there, no doubt for a performance of Prodigal Son, one of his great performing triumphs when he was a leading dancer with the company.

What, who was Edward Villella some people were asking as he talked to friends on the grand tier during the first intermission?

An all Balanchine night, the program began with Prodigal Son. Created in 1929 for Diaghilev, with the blaring and tender music of Prokofiev to Balanchine's then puzzling choreography, incorporating some highly unusual acrobatics, it was a great success, making Balanchine's name in the ballet world. Unfortunately, Diaghilev died a few months after its premiere, it did not appear again in the Balanchine version until 1950, when it was revived for Jerome Robbins and Maria Tallchief in the principal roles of the Prodigal and the Siren. Depending on whom you read from that period, Robbins was outstanding, but Tallchief not so much, as she explained, the Siren needs a dancer with long tapering limbs, something she lacked. Francisco Moncion as the Prodigal and Yvonne Mounsey as the Siren soon replaced them, both scoring great successes, especially Mounsey, who performed the role exclusively (I believe) for the next six or seven years. I wish this could have been recorded-unfortunately, all we have are photographs and oral histories.

As usual with Balanchine revivals of the early 1950s, it received acclaim, just as it irked many. John Martin of the NY Times: "Here is unquestionably the finest work of the late Diaghilev period. It is sturdy, substantial and meaty piece of choreography with enough fresh and creative material in it to supply ten ballets...Here he has told the familiar Bible story in a style of complete originality, which reflects the lusty music and adds rich flavors of its own. It is gauche and cruel, funny and naive, lascivious and tender, and its physical and mental energy though not in its skill and artistry, could scarcely belong to anyone but a young choreographer of twenty five."

Indeed, or a choreographer of 40, 50, 60 or even 70.

The ballet offers two great roles; one for the Prodigal, who not only needs the technical ability but the acting chops as well. With just a few mimetic gestures, he has to be able to convey his history, his passion and, especially, in the last few moments of the ballet, his repentance as he crawls back to his father, who tenderly takes him in his arms as the curtain falls.

Who said that Balanchine had no feeling in him? It never fails to bring some audience members to tears. But it must be of one piece. The dancer must follow the arc of the story and only the feelings when needed, not to add anything of his own. And follow the music--it's all there.

Daniel Ulbricht was splendid in the role. He conveyed the impetuousness of youth, the delight in early sexual activity, and the tenderness as he returns to his family. We always think of Ulbricht as a technical whizz, but there's more to him. I wish other roles could show him off as splendidly as this one. But he's short, and this poses problems.

Which is why the ballet works to this advantage, for Teresa Reichlen magnificently danced the looming, overpowering siren. Balanchine wanted a very tall ballerina for this part, and Reichlen proves that she is a mistress of this. But she is never vulgar. This courtesan is something of a lady. But a notorious one. Like the lady who was a tramp, so is she, but she's very professional in what she does.

The sets by Georges Rouault, conveying old Biblical times, have been around for a long time, yet they still cast their spell. They are clean and efficient. They set the mood quickly. The lighting by Mark Stanley is a bit on the dark side-you've all heard this before. NYC Ballet likes dim.

Why?

Liebeslieder Walzer, Balanchine's paean to love's vagaries, has always been something of a problem ballet. Revived every few years for about three performances, and then disappearing, it is a work that depends, more than most in my humble estimation, on the music, Brahms Liebesliesder Walzer, Opus 52, and his Neues Liebeslieder Walzer, Opus 65. These are two very complicated song cycles that might test the endurance of an audience, especially if you are not already familiar with them, don't like lieder or Brahms. So to present this hour's work is a challenge. Not only is there dancing, but there is also singing. And unlike lieder recitals, there is no translation book provided unless you bring one yourself. Once the curtain is lowered during the two cycles, many people flee, which they did at this performance.

That is their loss; I wish I could have persuaded them to stay.

Liebeslieder Walzer is a ballet in two parts, or should I say of two minds. In the first part, there are four dance couples in some ballroom; I am never quite sure what it is, with the four singers on stage right. The candles are aglow; it all seems warm and intimate. The women are in heeled shoes and long gowns-and since Brahms composed the song cycles in 1869 and 1875, I take it that this is the time frame. For the most part, they are subdued. There is a certain hushed tone about them, they don't want to stray too far away from their male partners-and if they do, it's for some chatter. Yet underneath it all, there is a tendency to play hide and seek with their emotions, as if they want to break free.

Which is something they do as they open the doors to the evening. Now the women are on pointe shoes. They are in some kind of a loving trance; they are bold. They are somewhat pushy now with the men. As in many Balanchine ballets, the women tend to rule, and in the second part of the dance, they certainly do.

And to end with a deeply emotional finale, the lights dim, the dancers return, the women in heeled shoes, and listen to the last song. It's over, they applaud, and the curtain falls.

All the dancers, Ashley Bouder, Sterling Hyltin, Maria Kowroski, Ashley Laracey, Jared Angle, Tyler Angle, Ask La Cour and Justin Peck were good, and some beyond, with my special nod to Ashley Laracey who gave her part a great depth of longing, yet a boldness and passion that seemed unquenchable.

An interesting night---on all fronts.

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