Most weeks my music list includes some metal. But there were a couple weeks in May that I discovered so much metal I liked, it made sense to collect the bands in one post.
Krypts
Maybe food metaphors aren’t the most appropriate for an album called Cadaver Circulation but Krypts is all kinds of crunchy and chewy tastiness. Plus, that album cover is pretty, like the romantic landscape paintings my daughter fell in love with in Norway. Even if it is a picture of bones decaying in the forest. (And doesn’t that image recast the album title to something more ecological and less gruesome?)
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Aseethe
The hardcore-ish screams are not my usual taste, but in Throes they only serve to make the subsequent growls like falling rock in a subterranean cavern and chugging riffs even more satisfying than they already would have been. Aseethe build a very pleasing tension with their combination of things both grating and soothing.
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Isoctrilihum
I don’t appreciate a tongue-twister band names, but I will forgive Isoctrilihum because The Telluric Ashes of the Ö Vrth Immemorial Gods (and I am somehow susceptible to the overwrought album title, ever since Fiona Apple’s When the Pawn…) is so good. When I was in India, I used to go to the beach and wade out to where the waves were breaking. I’d stand in the hip-high water and let the waves crash over me. Sometimes they pummeled me as they passed; sometimes picked me up in a dead man’s float; and sometimes knocked me end over end until I landed on my butt higher up the beach. That’s what this album feels like.
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Pound
I broke a personal rule when I wrote about the unGoogleable Pound before. At the time, only one song had been released, and I prefer to write about whole albums. But when a band fulfills the promise of its name so perfectly, exceptions must be made. Now the entire album named .. (yes, that’s dot dot) is up on Bandcamp. Give it a listen, and if you survive it, you’ll love it.
I was quite impressed by Qingdao’s Underwater World aquarium. But the other big aquarium in Qingdao, Polar Ocean World, was a depressing example of poor animal care. All of the habitats were overcrowded; none of the animals had enough room; and many of the sea mammals were visibly obese. They still engaged in trained animal performances (we saw one of their walruses at the mall the next day) and visitors could pay to feed the animals (which may partly account for the obesity).
My 10-year-old daughter didn’t notice. As much as I wanted to educate her about animal welfare, the purpose of our trip was to instill a sense of pride and belonging in her birth culture. So I kept most of my concerns to myself.
But this sad picture of a polar bear, with condensation dripping down the glass of its too-small enclosure like tears, is how I remember this animal prison disguised as an amusement park.
The final program of Pacific Northwest Ballet’s regular season is Themes & Variations, a mixed rep of four ballets that finishes with the title piece, George Balanchine’s Theme & Variations. It’s common for PNB to end a mixed rep program with a very traditional Balanchine piece. Balanchine is the foundation of this company, and his more classical pieces are sure to satisfy audiences at the end of an eclectic program, especially one that contains works like The Moor’s Pavane that aren’t for everyone. Theme & Variations is what people think of when they think of ballet.
True Tutu Ballet
Even if you’ve never seen it before, you can tell from the
title that it will be a classical tutu ballet with taxing, academic choreography.
It’s what nonballet-types are afraid they’ll end up watching if they go, and the
sort of thing that beginner balletomanes yearn for as “true ballet.” For the
longest time, I had the sophomoric impression that this sort of ballet was like
being tricked into watching the dancers practice a set of drills. Lots of
technique, but very little choreography – and therefore, kind of boring.
I hesitate to say I’ve graduated into some sort of ballet expertise (because I’m sure I’d be wrong). But for the first time in a long time, I was really able to appreciate the structured choreography of a classical ballet for the way it highlighted the dancers’ abilities. The fluid movement of contemporary dance draws attention away from the effort required to perform it. Those dances ask you to think about other things, and any number of mistakes can be made to look intentional. But classical ballet is naked in its predictability, and, like the X-Games of dance, it invites us to marvel at the dancers’ mastery.
True Beauty
And marvel I did. A lot of the time, classical ballet is more about lines and shapes than combinations of movement. When you allow yourself to focus on the images, there is exquisite beauty in the sculptural poses the dancers hold and in the patterns in which they are arranged on the stage.
If I could stand in Mountain Pose with as much stability as Lesley Rausch does vertical splits on pointe, my yoga teacher would be so proud. Jerome Tisserand seemed almost to disappear when partnering, only to burst into view with bold straight lines and powerful spins when it was his own turn to shine. The corps de ballet, even with the new variation in heights and body types that PNB used to avoid, all molded themselves into synchronous uniformity, fluttering on pointe for ages. Individual expression is very important, but there’s also something very stirring in military precision.
And sometimes, it’s comforting to know what should come next and to trust that the dancers can deliver it.
The final program of Pacific Northwest Ballet’s 2018/2019 season is Themes and Variations, a mixed repertory of four short ballets broken up by two intermissions. In writing, people often talk about the messy middle. You know what you need to make a strong beginning and a dramatic ending, but how do you connect the two? In Themes and Variations, that’s not a problem. Seeming unrelated at first glance, Tarantella and The Moor’s Pavane are the two strong links connecting Price Suddarth’s Signature to Balanchine’s Theme & Variations.
As I wrote before, I’m a little prejudiced against folk dance in ballet, even though it’s ubiquitous and I love high/low juxtapositions in other contexts. So Tarantella is never going to be my favorite ballet. But in this program, it’s a fun follow up to the more elegant celebration in Signature, and a good way to transition from that dance’s expressive movements to the more academic styles that will follow. And for the record, everyone else loves Tarantella – my 15-year-old especially, but also the rest of the dance world.
The Music
There’s some history to the music. According to the program, Gottschalk’s Grande Tarantelle, written about 100 years before the ballet’s premiere, was probably the first work for piano and orchestra ever written in the U.S. In an interesting twist, the New Orleans-born composer did most of his work outside of the U.S., while the choreographer who used his music came from Russia to compose quintessentially American ballets.
The Characters
Without going so far as to tell a story, there’s a sort of premise about Tarantella that the two dancers are street performers from the region of Naples, drawing a crowd with their dancing chops. Like street performers, the dancers have to have big personalities, with as much humor and charm as dancing skill. Balanchine supposedly wrote this ballet for specific dancers. I don’t know who they were, but if the dance wasn’t dated 1964, I could easily believe he wrote Tarantella for Angelica Generosa and Kyle Davis, who performed it on the day I attended.
It [the music] is a dazzling display piece, full of speed and high spirits. So, I hope, is the dance, which is ‘Neapolitan,’ if you like, and ‘demi-caractèr’. The costumes are inspired by Italy, anyhow, and there are tambourines.”
George Balanchine, Balanchine’s Stories of the Great Ballets
Throw in a bit with a dog and you’ve got a hit, right? Anyhow, Tarantella is classic Balanchine – virtuosic technique with a dash of sass. If you’ve ever wanted to see a ballerina en pointe, hitting a tambourine with her other heel, now is your chance. You can watch it ironically if you want, but it’s all in good fun.
The Moor’s Pavane
(Variations on the theme of Othello)
Music: Henry Purcell (The Gordian Knot Untied, Abdelazer, or The Moor’s Revenge), arranged by Simon Sadoff Choreography: José Limón Direction and Staging: Alice Condodina Costume Design: Pauline Lawrence Lighting Design: Randall G. Chiarelli Running Time: 24 minutes Premiere: August 17, 1949, José Limón Dance Company PNB Premiere: November 12, 1986
No humor here, even though it looks kind of funny at first. It’s quite the counterpoint to the Tarantella, which is fitting, I guess, because the choreography is all about equal and opposite reactions. A distillation of Othello told through the courtly dance (hence, pavane) and the choreographer’s own “Limón technique,” it really doesn’t look like anything else you’ll see on a ballet stage. It might sound pretentious to say so, but if Balanchine’s choreography bookending it was academic, The Moor’s Pavane was intellectual.
Even though I love Shakespeare adaptations and I’m usually all about the new and unusual in dance, I really didn’t like Moor’s Pavane the first time I saw it. I don’t remember who the dancers were, but “His Friend” (the Iago to “The Moor’s” Othello) was genuinely creepy. And I found the gravity-driven movement off-putting.
Today I have very little patience for tragedies about men driven to jealous murder, especially when they hinge on the irony of false accusations (because murder is okay if she’s guilty?!) Those stories can only succeed when you accept the underlying assumption that women are cherished material objects rather than, you know, actual human beings with agency and a right to live.
But I have a lot more patience for learning about dance that doesn’t fit my expectations than I used to. Even learning a little bit about the Limón technique helped me make sense of the dance. And the weird movements, alternately jerky and pendulous, reminded me of medieval puppet shows (much like the one in Hamlet). Even though the ballet was written in 1949, the elaborate costumes, 17th century music, and puppet-like quality of the music dovetailed into a beautifully coherent interpretation of a centuries-old story that, for better or for worse, still has modern relevance.
Cast I Saw
The Moor Joshua Grant His Friend Steven Loch His Friend’s Wife Lindsi Dec The Moor’s Wife Elizabeth Murphy
All four dancers were performing these roles for the first time.
Details
Remaining performances: June 6 – 8 at 7:30 pm and June 9 at 1:00
pm
Tickets ($30-$187) are on sale online, by phone – 206.441.2424, or in person at 301 Mercer Street at Seattle Center. Subject to availability, tickets are also available 90 minutes prior to show times at McCaw Hall.
{I attended Themes & Variations courtesy of Pacific Northwest Ballet. The tickets were theirs, but the opinions are mine.}
As I mentioned in my summary post, I have seen Signature before. But that time I was looking forward to seeing something else, and didn’t give it quite the attention it deserves. This time, I think it was my favorite piece in the mixed rep program that ends PNB’s 2018/2019 season, Themes & Variations.
Unexpected Directions
Signature starts with the lights down low – literally. The lighting truss was dropped down so low that it framed the stage. Eventually the frame expanded, and the lights became brighter. But by that time your attention was already focused on the dancers in practical blue and olive body suits. It was a simple thing, but unexpected, much like the rest of Signature.
Choreographed by PNB soloist Price Suddarth in 2015, Signature used a very familiar vocabulary. Except for some pointy snowflake lifts in the middle part, all of the movement was standard ballet. But every movement was different from what you expected to come next. That sense of constant mild surprise was like the fizz in a summer drink, giving the performance a delightful sense of lightness. To me, the unpredictability elevated Signature from merely pretty to something more substantial even as it injected humor.
Something Unique
Suddarth’s notes say the intent of the
piece is to explore the value inherent in each of us as unique individuals,
even when we struggle to identify anything in particular that is special about
any one of us.
“The most beautiful thing we each have to offer is that we are 100% irreplaceable, distinctively singular, and utterly unmatched.”
Price Suddarth, program notes
That idea is perfectly captured in the unusual combinations of familiar movements in Signature.
In contemporary ballet, you often have a small cast where each dancer is doing their own thing. In Signature, you still have groups of people performing the same steps en masse. But compared to more traditional pieces (like Sleeping Beauty earlier in the season or Theme and Variations later in the program) the dancers in Signature are all doing the same thing in their own way. That looseness reminded me of the dancers I saw in Oslo. But coming from a company that excels in the military precision of classical ballet, those little variations in arm position felt like strong statements – signature moves, even.
Lasting Impressions
I have already said a bit about the music in a previous post, but it bears repeating here. VVLD, the Vivaldi-inspired double violin concerto with orchestra that local composer Barret Anspach wrote for the ballet was some of the best music I’ve heard in a while. Ballet music can disappear behind the dancers sometimes, but VVLD was like an extra dancer. Drawing attention to its own beauty without detracting from the dancers’, it contributed a lot to the celebratory feeling of the piece.
I also mentioned in a previous post that I came into this program tired from a super stressful week. Getting too tired always starts the negative self-talk loop in my brain, so this lighthearted affirmation that you don’t have to be special to be unique was a timely breath of fresh air. But it was a joy to watch even if you weren’t in need of a pick-me-up.
Changing Impressions
Finally, I have one observation that
I haven’t previously shared. For years there were a handful of dances that I would
never miss. But I mostly sought out novelty and skipped familiar programs. Cost
was a factor, and when you just can’t afford to attend everything, it often
makes sense to prioritize new work. But whenever you can, it’s so worth seeing
things again. Your mood and energy level are different every time you see a
ballet. Your knowledge of dance continues to grow. There are different dancers
every time a piece is staged, and they each bring unique talents and
interpretations to a piece – even when that’s not what the piece is about. You
never know when your favorite ballet might turn out to be something you thought
was okay a couple seasons ago.
Details
Remaining performances: June 6 – 8 at 7:30 pm and June 9 at 1:00
pm
Tickets ($30-$187) are on sale online, by phone – 206.441.2424, or in person at 301 Mercer Street at Seattle Center. Subject to availability, tickets are also available 90 minutes prior to show times at McCaw Hall.
Music: Barret Anspach (VVLD, 2015) Choreography: Price Suddarth Costume Design: Mark Zappone Lighting Design: Randall G. Chiarelli Running Time: 30 minutes Premiere: November 6, 2015, Pacific Northwest Ballet
Cast I Saw
There was a cascade of substitutions in the casting on opening night. I’m not even going to try to list the dancers because I know I’ll get it wrong.
{I attended Theme & Variations program courtesy of Pacific Northwest Ballet. The tickets were theirs, but the opinions are mine.}
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