Ballet West: Onegin

Even though John Cranko chose the title Onegin for his ballet based on Alexander Pushkin’s verse-novel, I find its power resides in the dancer playing the role of Tatiana. It is her transformation, from withdrawn and innocent to forthright and assertive, that makes the story so compelling. For this reason, among many others, Onegin is a riveting and important addition to Ballet West’s repertory: the women in the company shine in Cranko’s challenging and dramatic choreography.

Onegin is built upon a series of contrasts: between sisters, between couples, and between different phases of our lives. The credibility of the story depends upon dancers’ ability to portray these contrasts without slipping into caricature. On Saturday night, April 6, Beckanne Sisk as Tatiana and Chelsea Keefer as Olga captured the perfect balance between Tatiana’s diffident personality and Olga’s bubbly disposition. Their sisterly affections and squabbles made them endearing and relatable.

The fondness they shared for one another in Act I contrasted with Onegin’s treatment of Tatiana, Olga, and Lensky in Act II. In many ways, Onegin’s character became apparent through the differences he presented: aloof and self-involved instead of attentive and engaging. Every detail of the production’s design emphasized these differences: his dark clothing contrasted with the women’s light, pastel dresses (costume and set design were by Santo Loquasto), and his gaze was often skyward and his gait measured and deliberate. In the role of Onegin, Chase O’Connell presented these differences with a masterful touch, intertwining his choreography with the emotions they conveyed. As tensions escalated between the couples in Act II, with Onegin pulling Olga away from Lensky, and Lensky growing increasingly jealous, their dancing intensified the conflict: the choreography and partnering accelerated and its speed and complexity made visible Lensky’s churning confusion and rage. Jordan Veit beautifully performed the role of Lensky, making his conflict between romance and pride both believable and devastating at the same time.

Soloists Jordan Veit (left) and Chelsea Keefer as Lensky and Olga, with artists of Ballet West. Photo by Beau Pearson.

As a choreographer, Cranko portrayed these plot tensions with a layered approach: there are often two relationships developing simultaneously on the stage. For example, in Act II, Olga and Lensky are visible in the background as she reassures him that her dancing with Onegin is meaningless, while Tatiana performs a solo in the center of the stage that evokes her infatuation with Onegin and discouragement with his dismissal. This kind of simultaneity gives Onegin a cinematic feel: the layering creates a sense of momentum and inevitability, one relationship becomes irrevocably entwined with another. Cranko’s movement design is not only emotionally driven, but also technically complicated. As Olga, Keefer performed her choreography with clarity and ebullience that matched her role: the ballotté steps that began her solo in Act I were buoyant and sparkling, and her turns perfectly captured the swirling attraction she felt towards Lensky.

The entire cast enriched Saturday night’s performance: towards the end of Act I, when the neighbors and relatives of Madame Larina dart across the stage in a diagonal, with the women performing grand jetés, and the men assisting them as they run alongside, the audience burst into applause. It is a testament to the caliber and artistry of the company that they make this ballet, choreographed in 1965, feel fresh, exciting, and relevant today. Although Cranko’s works are brilliant and proving to be timeless, they require large casts of dancers who blend precise attention to details in group formations, with the ability to portray characters and plot developments believably. In his obituary in the New York Times, from 1973, there’s a quote from Cranko that states, “There is the challenge of making a ballet work on two levels—as dance and as story. You fail only if the story becomes more important than the dance.” [1] The dancers of Ballet West excel as both technicians and story-tellers.

Artists of Ballet West in John Cranko’s Onegin. Photo by Beau Pearson.

The word “immersive” is often used to describe events where audience members are in close proximity to dancers or actors, but watching Ballet West perform Onegin, I felt another kind of envelopment. The characters were performed with such credibility, I became absorbed in the conflicts that each of them encountered: Sisk as Tatiana began the performance as a young, introverted, and bookish woman, who transformed into a commanding presence. O’Connell as Onegin conveyed his character’s path from reckless to regretful with such conviction that I felt a newfound appreciation for this role. I also began to wonder about the mirrors that appear throughout the first act, from the scene when Olga “discovers” Lensky in her reflection, to the mirror pas de deux between Tatiana and Onegin. Are these Cranko’s way of commenting on reflections, and the contrasts between what we desire for ourselves and how others see us?

Undoubtedly the music and production design contributed to my sense of absorption: Jared Oaks conducted the Ballet West Orchestra and the music by Tchaikovsky (arranged and orchestrated by Kurt-Heinz Stolze) supported and intensified my emotional engagement with the dancing. The sets and costumes, courtesy of the National Ballet of Canada, added sumptuous visual layers to the performance.

Although I love how the program contains translations of Pushkin’s writing, specifically the letter that Tatiana writes to Onegin, and Onegin’s letter to Tatiana, I found this offered yet another contrast: Cranko’s Onegin performed by Ballet West is a rich and lived experience that conveys Pushkin’s multifaceted characters in ways that words cannot convey. The gestures, actions, and partnering of the dancers communicate viscerally and kinesthetically the turmoil, heartbreak, and resolve of Pushkin’s characters. In Ballet West’s dancers, Cranko’s choreography finds a perfect company to transport us into and through this enthralling and revealing story.

Principal Artists Beckanne Sisk and Chase O'Connell as Tatiana and Onegin. Photo by Beau Pearson.

[1] https://www.nytimes.com/1973/06/27/archives/john-cranko-dies-at-45-stuttgart-ballet-director-hurok-pays-tribute.html

Kate Mattingly is an assistant professor of dance at the University of Utah. She has a doctoral degree in performance studies from UC Berkeley, and has had writing published in The New York Times, The Village Voice, Dance Research Journal, Dance magazine, and Pointe magazine, among others.

Ballet West: Jewels

While George Balanchine’s Jewels may be best known as the first full-length abstract ballet, I find its magnificence resides in other features: its brilliant display of ballet’s history and the ways dancers and music convey different moods or atmospheres. Ultimately, I find the three sections of Jewels speak to the values of diversity and inclusivity, and by extension to the importance of honoring different artists and cultures.

This was especially apparent Saturday night when there was a special ceremony for Bruce Caldwell, honoring his 50 years of work with Ballet West as a dancer and currently as ballet master and company archivist. As the audience applauded at the end of the performance, Caldwell was on stage to receive a rose from many partners he worked with during his dancing career, including Jane Wood, Maggie Tesch, and Sharee Lane. It was a poignant acknowledgement of the commitment and love dancers bring to their profession.

It was also a fitting ending to a ballet that has a celebratory vibe: the richness of the costumes in Jewels, plus the size of the cast (34 dancers are on stage for the polonaise that closes the performance), make the evening a dazzling affair. On Saturday night I found the women in particular, both in leading roles as well as in the corps, were exceptional.

Emeralds, the first section, set to music by Gabriel Fauré, was a dreamlike series of encounters, and Katlyn Addison and Emily Adams were exquisite. They conveyed the sense of mystery and detachment that makes me think of Romantic ballet when I watch Emeralds. The longer tutus (designed by Barbara Karinska) recall the costumes of La Sylphide or Giselle, and the relationships between the men and women tend to be unresolved. There were lush, reaching gestures that looked like the dancers were being swept and blown through the phrases. A pas de deux ended with the dancers walking backwards into the wings, their chests lifted to the sky in a moment of reverie or surrender. The ballet ended with three men kneeling and raising one arm towards the wings, a gesture that evoked a sense of longing since the women had just exited. In last night’s performance it seemed to mark a moment of gratitude for the elegance of these women. The 10 women in the corps were incandescent: their bourrées suggested the shimmering of a gem. This was especially impressive Saturday night because the cast included dancers of Ballet West II––Jordan DePina, Savannah Lyle, Alexandra Terry, and Victoria Vassos­­––who blended seamlessly with the company members.

Artists of Ballet West in George Balanchine’s Rubies. Photo by Beau Pearson.

Rubies presented the slinky atmosphere of a jazz club (Igor Stravinsky’s score for this section was first performed in 1929). The section opened with the dancers standing in 4th position, arms high in V-like shapes, with the women en pointe. They jutted their hips with sassy thrusts and instantly the reverie of Emeralds dissipated: now we were in the land of “cool.” On Saturday night the four men, Kyle Davis, David Huffmire, Ryo Munakata, and Joshua Shutkind, were riveting: exquisite in their execution of fast phrases and precise steps. When they partnered Addison, who appeared regal and queen-like in Rubies, they attentively placed her wrists and ankles in développé and arabesque positions. They seemed to be displaying her fantastic lines like a ruby would be displayed on a pedestal; and Addison’s confidence recalled other powerful women in Balanchine’s repertory, like the Siren in Prodigal Son. Her headpiece made me think of the crown worn by Wonder Woman, an apt comparison given that Addison stepped into this leading role in Rubies for Emily Neale just after performing in Emeralds. Other corps dancers who shone in this section included Jenna Rae Herrera and Chelsea Keefer, both soloists with the company, who performed with an infectious joie de vivre.

The moment the curtain opened for Diamonds, there was applause from the audience. This section recreated the stately opulence of Tsarist Russia. The score by Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky and the white tutus worn by the corps of 12 women conveyed the refined sophistication of a royal ball. Typical of Balanchine’s ballets, the corps took a central role and again the dancers included members from Ballet West II––Terry and Vassos plus Cy Doherty, Robert Fowler, Noel Jensen, Joseph Lynch, and Jake Preece––who contributed to the magnificent vision of courtly elegance.

In the leading roles, Beckanne Sisk and Chase O’Connell were gorgeous, and special moments included the way he knelt to her during the beginning of their pas de deux, as if to ask, “Can I have the honor of dancing with you?” Their solos, especially his execution of à la seconde turns, were phenomenal, and again the audience applauded. Sisk’s choreography included gestures that recalled Swan Lake, with arms like wings, yet without any reference to a specific character or narrative. Instead these moments, that evoked the 19th century, reminded me how Balanchine was updating ballet’s vocabulary, making it relevant to the 20th century. On Saturday night there were exceptional performances by female soloists––Gabrielle Salvatto, Katie Critchlow, Chelsea Keefer, and Amber Miller––who danced with the speed, precision, and joy that are Balanchine’s trademarks. They continually captured my attention, an impressive feat when the cast numbered 34 dancers.

Artists of Ballet West in George Balanchine’s Diamonds. Photo by Beau Pearson.

A week before this performance I watched a rehearsal of this section led by Sandra Jennings, who performed, and now stages, Balanchine’s repertory. Her cues to the dancers to “really step out” while maintaining exact positions, revealed the ways that Balanchine extended the classical vocabulary. Jennings’s attention to detail was impressive: noticing how a slight shift in a dancer’s shoulder in arabesque distorted the feeling of uniformity among the soloists. I imagine Jennings would have appreciated how thoroughly the cast embraced her directions and presented a gorgeous performance of Balanchine’s aesthetic.

A through-line of the evening was the exceptional music, conducted by Jared Oaks, Ballet West’s music director. Each section conveyed a different characteristic, from dream-like to jazzy to elegant, that was generated by the musicians as well as the dancers. Jewels is known for its close connections between the scores and the steps, and any time musicians and dancers are working well together, there’s a distinct synchronicity: we are watching how artists in the orchestra and artists on stage are generating this work of art collaboratively. When I attended the rehearsal led by Jennings, I noticed that Oaks was present as well: his deep knowledge of the dancers’ needs, combined with his attentive conducting, made watching Ballet West perform Balanchine’s ballet an extraordinary experience.

The costumes, courtesy of Cincinnati Ballet and Pacific Northwest Ballet, added to the evening’s glamour, and it was exciting to see how each jewel’s costume was created by combining multiple shades of its color: green for emerald, red for ruby, and white for diamond. This diversity added to the ballet’s theme of embracing multiple nations and styles.

When Balanchine made this ballet in 1967, he was fortunate to be working with a special cast of artists: Violette Verdy and Conrad Ludlow, Mimi Paul and Francisco Moncion; Patricia McBride, Edward Villella, and Patricia Neary; Suzanne Farrell and Jacques d’Amboise. What was exciting about Ballet West’s production last night was noticing how many talented artists in Ballet West II could become new members of the company, and how many artists in the company, like Kyle Davis, Jenna Rae Herrera, Chelsea Keefer, and Gabrielle Salvatto, are thriving and could soon be moving into more featured roles. Just like Jewels is a celebration of different countries, as well as artists from different countries, Ballet West is a company that has a rich diversity of dancers in terms of backgrounds, body types, and countries of origin. At this particular moment in the States, I find this celebration of difference an important message about the richness of cultural diversity, and the contributions that people from many nations make to our definitions of what it means to be American.

 Kate Mattingly is an assistant professor of dance at the University of Utah. She has a doctoral degree in performance studies from UC Berkeley, and has had writing published in The New York Times, The Village Voice, Dance Research Journal, Dance magazine, and Pointe magazine, among others.