Program 6 -- San Francisco Ballet Performance -- Review Shostakovich Trilogy -- San Francisco Ballet Performance Labèque Sisters Duo Piano Performance -- Review

Program 6

San Francisco Ballet Performance

April 15, 2014





Program 6 is three distinct ballets:  Maelstrom, Caprice, and The Rite of SpringMaelstrom was conceived and choreographed by Mark Morris, a sometime collaborator with the San Francisco Ballet, to Beethoven's "Ghost" Trio, Op. 70, No. 1.  I don't know why they called this "Maelstrom."  There is nothing of a maelstrom in it.  It is a rather tame ballet.  The most interesting movement was the second, to the "Ghost" movement of the Beethoven Trio.  The name "Ghost" doesn't apply very well to this music either.  The music is somber, even melancholy, but I don't know what that has to do with a ghost.  My experience with ghosts is limited, but encountering a ghost is almost always a disturbing experience, or at best, enigmatic.  A ghost is usually sinister, foreboding, even malevolent.  But the music in Beethoven's trio does not feel that way, nor does Morris's dance.  I got the feeling that this Beethoven Trio does not lend itself well to dance, and maybe that is why this ballet never got off the ground.  The third movement is energetic and relatively light hearted.  The dance throughout this movement consisted of brief segments of dancers in twos and threes.  They would make a very brief appearance on stage, dance a brief vignette, and then exit to be replaced by another small group for another very short interlude, then exiting similarly, and so forth, through the entire movement.  This structure of brief episodes strung together gave the movement a very choppy feel.  It must have been intended for people with short attention spans.  The dance was furthermore not very interesting.  It had a sameness to it that became monotonous after a while.  The dancers did the best they could with it, but I didn't think it was a very good concept.

Caprice is a world premier by San Francisco Ballet director Helgi Tomasson, set to music by Camille Saint-Seans.  This ballet was very well conceived, beautifully executed, imaginatively staged, and very interesting to watch.  I had the feeling that I was watching a master craftsman showing us what he's got.  The movements were strong and decisive showing a lot of variety and imagination.  The highlight was the second of two adagio movements with two long male-female duets followed by the two couples sharing the stage.  The music was adagio, that is, a rather slow tempo, but it was not sad, somber, melancholy, or nostalgic.  It had a rather positive spirit, and underlying sense of well being and optimism.  The dance reflected that, which I was very pleased to see.  It was a male-female duet that was close, if not intimate, but at the same time, not overly emotional.  It was not restrained either; it was stalwart and sedate.  Tomasson hit it just right.  He had superb dancers to work with.  Luke Ingham is a magnificent specimen of masculine humanity who performed several impressive solos as well as the duets.  Caprice is an excellent ballet, and a pleasure to watch. 

The Rite of Spring, set to music by Igor Stravinsky and choreographed by Yuri Possokhov, was the dramatic climax to the evening.  This ballet is visually captivating against a rich and varied musical score.  The dance perfectly mirrored the mood and temper of the music.  When a dance performance does this, it intensifies the emotional impact on the viewer.  The dancing underlines the emotional tone set by the music and realizes the musical mood in a visual experience.  But the dance also interprets the music and imparts a sense and a meaning to it that it might not have simply as a listening experience.  This ballet makes that point to the hilt. 

There is a strong erotic feeling throughout the ballet that at times becomes downright lewd.  Movements are bold and forceful.  There is strong connection between the sexes.  Males and females strongly interact with one another with clear erotic intent.  But what happens?  The strong eroticism is decisively repudiated, in a similar vein to Wagner's opera, Tannhäuser.  In Tannhäuser, after a brazenly erotic opening where Venus is unabashedly worshipped, Tannhäuser decides to forsake her for Mary, the mother of God.  The rest of the opera is the unfolding of this conflict in Tannhäuser, and in the end Venus and erotic love is spurned.  In this ballet one of the girls in the group of dancers is singled out and ritualistically killed as a sacrifice.  And that is how the ballet ends, with a girl being executed for reasons we are not given.  It is bleak and rather abrupt and comes across as a negative judgment on the manifested eroticism of the girls throughout the ballet.

What is the nature of this sacrifice and why was it done?  In the program we are told that the ballet reflects a practice of "primitive" people.  "Primitive" people kill one of their daughters as a ritual sacrifice.  Oh, really?  It's too bad the primitive people are not here to mock and deride this ridiculous depiction of themselves.  Possokhov says that he believes it is abnormal people among the primitives who decide who should be killed.  That is why we have the two males with their bodies painted to represent a sort of shaman, who dance in a shared skirt throughout the ballet.  I guess that passes for abnormality.  But in a primitive tribe leaders are chosen by consensus.  One becomes a leader naturally by strength of personality and by displaying leadership skills that are crucial to survival of the entire group.  A leader cannot effect anything without the backing of many if not most of the group.  So an action of this magnitude that would deeply affect the entire group must be the responsibility of the entire group and not just a few aberrant leaders.  In other words, Possokhov's conception of this ballet is based on nonsense.
 
The oldest man-made figures are nude females.  They go back some 25-30,000 years.  Primitive people worshipped females.  They exalted female sexuality.  In the Old Testament one of the greatest disgraces for a woman was to be barren.  Women were brought up to have sex and to have babies.  It was necessary.  It was vital to the survival of the tribe.  Fertility of the flocks, the game animals, and especially fertility of the young girls, were the highest values in primitive societies. As Robert Graves observed in his study of Greek mythology,1

The whole of neolithic Europe, to judge from surviving artifacts and myths, had a remarkably homogenous system of religious ideas, based on the worship of the many-titled Mother-goddess . . . Ancient Europe had no gods.  The Great Goddess was regarded as immortal, changeless, and omnipotent; and the concept of fatherhood had not been introduced into religious thought.  She took lovers, but for pleasure, not to provide her children with a father.  (p. 13)

It is civilization that seeks to kill the sexuality of women.  Once it began to matter who the father of a child was, then necessarily female sexual behavior had to be curtailed.  This began with the development of private property and inheritance.  Once there was an estate to divide up after a man died, it became imperative to know which kids belonged to which man.  In a society that lived off the land by hunting and gathering this was not necessary.   The invention of private property and the acquisition of durable wealth meant that females had to become monogamous -- which they had never been prior. 

So this ritual sacrifice that we see in The Rite of Spring is a sacrifice demanded of young women by civilization, not by so-called "primitive" people.  There is a lie being told here, an arrogant misconception, that we, the civilized ones, are superior to the "primitive" people of long ago who supposedly sacrificed their young women -- for what?  It doesn't make any sense.  It is we who sacrifice young women; it is we who crucify them; we destroy them in order to maintain a society based on wealth, inequality, and inheritance.  That is why their natural eroticism has to be stifled.  We modern people are the abnormal ones, not the primitive tribes who are no longer here to answer for themselves.

The Rite of Spring is a bold, imaginative ballet with a confused, distorted message, but it is nevertheless a mesmerizing spectacle.  I would say it is one of the best ballets I have seen, really a masterpiece.  Unfortunately, it displaces the carnage that we wreak upon the psyches of women, and blames it on a false conception of the long lost past, when the real villains are here and now. 






1.  Robert Graves (1955 [1992]) The Greek Myths: Complete Edition.  London:  Penguin Books.  
Shostakovich Trilogy

San Francisco Ballet Performance

April 8, 2014




The Shostakovich Trilogy is a well conceived, expertly performed dance by the San Francisco Ballet.  It is divided into three segments all set against music by Shostakovich and separated by two intermissions.  The dancers' movements are smooth, fluid, and graceful throughout this ballet.  Both men and women participate in all three ballets.  The men and women interact.  They touch each other, pick each other up, carry each other.  There is good interaction between the sexes throughout the three ballets.  The sets and costumes are simple, if not minimal.  In the first segment there is a plain gray floor against a gray backdrop.  In the second segment there is a backdrop with some painted imagery, and in the third there are bright red geometric objects suspended above the stage.  This show is not about visual imagery and special effects.  It is all about movement and the dance, and the dancers really show us what they can do.   When you've got dancers like these, you don't need too much else. 

The first segment, Symphony #9, is lighthearted and energetic.  As it goes along it turns darker, but generally remains upbeat.  The program notes allude to an atmosphere of dread or angst that is supposed to underlie this superficial gaiety, but I didn't get it.  Maybe you have to have lived in Stalinist Russia for that to come across.  I noticed the change in mood, but it felt to me more like a sense of tragedy rather than foreboding or fear.  I need to see it again.  One time is not enough to really absorb this ballet.  There is a lot of substance here and the relationship between the dance and the music is rather sophisticated.  A lot of thought went into this, and I think two or three viewings might yield a better sense of it. 

The second segment, Chamber Symphony, features three women against one man with small troops of women and men as backups.  The music is profoundly tragic and pervaded by an atmosphere of abysmal despair.   The nature of the relationships between the women and the man is not clear, but you get the feeling that this is not a happy campsite.  The women dance in triplicate much of the time with the lead male, but they do not seem to interact among themselves.  There are interludes where each woman dances in a pair with the man, and these seem problematic.  These dances are emotionally inconclusive, but the whole thing takes place in a pervasive atmosphere of abysmal despair provided by the underlying music.  There is one section where the music is almost funereal, but the couple is still dancing with animation and energy that seems out of sync with the music.  Normally I would think there was something wrong with this.  I like the dancing and the music to complement one another and not create an emotional clash.  But in this case, as explained in the program, part of the import of Shostakovich's music, and this ballet in particular, reflects a superficial presentation of upbeat optimism and well being in Russian society under Stalin, but the underlying reality is dark, sinister and pervaded with fear.  Therefore the music carries the "real" message while the dancers reflect the pretense of well being.  I would not get this without having it explained to me.  The Russian audiences who lived out their lives in that kind of duality probably did get it.  I think in America, although we do have a lot of hypocrisy and sinister undercurrents in our society, it is not so pervasive and dark and unrelenting as it was under Stalin.  So I don't think Americans will grasp this spontaneously unless it is explained to them.  The ballet ends enigmatically, but the overarching mood of the piece is one of unmitigated tragedy and despair. 

The third ballet, Piano Concerto #1, is a more positive, forceful, high energy display of dance virtuosity.   The principal ballerinas are sexy in their bright red satin bodices that show off their perfect legs to excellent effect.  It is rather abstract in content.  There are no discernible relationships or story line being depicted.  This is a dancers' ballet and you could feel the dancers' thrill and pleasure to be performing it, and it was a visual treat to watch.

I wouldn't mind seeing this Trilogy again.  It was a bit of a challenge, but an enjoyable spectacle that drew upon the capabilities of the high quality dancers and tasteful, imaginative choreography set against interesting, powerful music.  It coursed through a variety of moods and presented an interesting counterpoint between the music and the dance.  I wish I could say more about it, but I don't think I absorbed everything that was important about this ballet on the first viewing.  I feel like I need another look to really get it, but I give this one a very favorable recommendation. 


Labèque Sisters Duo Piano Performance

Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco

April 7, 2014




I don't usually review musical performances, but I have to say something about the Labèque sisters' two piano concert last night at Davies Symphony Hall.  They were electrifying.  I have seen Vladimir Horowitz three times in concert, and many of the great contemporary pianists:  Richard Goode, Garrick Ohlsson, Martha Argerich, Murray Perahia, Andras Schiff, Zoltan Koscis, Krystian Zimerman, Paul Lewis, Pierre Aimard, Jeremy Denk, and many others, and I would have to place this performance last night among the most memorable and outstanding of all that I have seen and heard.  The Labèques, Katia and Marielle, play with great energy and vivaciousness.  They can range from bombastic to touchingly thoughtful and sensitive.

They played a lively program that I didn't expect to like, but they quickly won me over to riveting enthusiasm.  The program was interesting and well thought out.  The selections complemented each other very well and gave the whole concert a feeling of unity and balance.  Gershwin's Three Preludes (which I have played myself) were arranged very imaginatively and tastefully for two pianos by Irwin Kostal.  But what really grabbed hold of me were the Four Movements for Two Pianos by Philip Glass.  Until last night I had never heard anything by Philip Glass that I really liked, but this piece for two pianos is interesting, imaginative, and substantial.  I would like to hear it again, and it opened my mind to reconsider Philip Glass and to extend to him another chance.  The Labèques really understand the piece and are able to get it across in a way that draws the listener in to its varied moods and textures.  The Four Movements makes good use of the two pianos.  You really need both pianos to make the piece work and the Labèques understand that and their seamless integration gives the performance body and vitality that cannot help but engage the listener.  


The second half of the program was a rare treat in a classical concert:  a bold departure from conventional norms that was pulled off magnificently.  Selections from Leonard Bernstein's West Side Story were arranged for two pianos and percussion, once again by Irwin Kostal.  I was skeptical when I saw two sets of drums out on the stage with two grand pianos, and was ready for failure.  Boy, was I wrong!  It was a marvelous showpiece that was tempestuous, interesting, somber, cute, and above all, energetic and full of life.  The two percussionists, Gonzalo Grau and Raphael Séguinier, were superb virtuosos in their own right.  I think they all owe a lot to their arranger, Irwin Kostal, who was not even written up in the program.  This was a very imaginative, interesting arrangement of these pieces that worked very well for the Labèques and for the percussionists.  It had to have been arranged by someone who knew these performers well and drew upon their capabilities to the best effect.  The choice of percussion with two pianos was a bold move that required the percussion to hold its own as a complementary partner to two strong pianos.  The percussion was not simply used as accompaniment, but as a full participant and an integral part of the composition.  This rather tricky challenge was pulled off tastefully, even masterfully.  Both the piano and percussion have a tendency to dominate a musical passage and keeping these strong instruments in a pleasing balance was quite a respectable achievement by all of these performers.  It was a powerfully effective effort all the way through and justly brought the audience to its feet.  I hope they come back soon.  The Labèques are top flight performers, showpersons, virtuosos, and masters of taste and style.  I am definitely a confirmed fan from henceforth.