tanz-de-ca

By Paula Citron

The screams of appreciation started early and came often during the Calgary debut performance of Alberta Ballet's "Love Lies Bleeding", choreographed by artistic director Jean Grand-Maître to the music of Sir Elton John. The production is clearly going to make buckets of money for the company, and that's a given.

Grand-Maître became artistic director of Alberta Ballet in 2002. Born in Hull, Quebec, he began his dance training at York University in Toronto and continued at Montreal’s L’École Supérieure de Danse du Québec. He later danced with Ballet British Columbia and Theatre Ballet of Canada. As an independent choreographer and theatre director for 14 years, he created and staged new works for ballet companies, theatre festivals, circus performers, opera companies, stage musicals, television specials, and large scale outdoor events. He has also created dances for numerous television specials and for film.

His ballet commissions include Opéra National de Paris, Teatro alla Scala, Stuttgart Ballet, National Norwegian Ballet, National Bavarian State Ballet, National Ballet of Canada, Les Grands Ballets Canadiens, Ballet British Columbia, National Ballet of Cuba, Ballet Jörgen Canada and Hartford Ballet. Grand-Maître collaborated with theatre director Michel Lemieux for the street parade celebrating Montreal’s 350th anniversary, and was director of choreography for the opening and closing ceremonies of the Vancouver 2010 Olympics.

Early on, Grand-Maître understood the conservative nature of the Calgary/Edmonton home base dance audience. He determined that full-length story ballets would attract audiences and choreographed on the company “Carmen” (2003), “Cinderella” (2004), “Dangerous Liaisons” (2004), and “Romeo and Juliet (2005) among others. At the same time, he discovered a cash cow in creating ballets to the music of superstars. “The Fiddle and the Drum” (2007) set to songs by Joni Mitchell attracted international attention. In fact, due to the success of the ballet, Grand-Maître added songs to convert this one act into a full-length work with an eye to touring potential.

And now there is “Love Lies Bleeding”. Frankly, what's not to like? First there's the music of glam rock superstar John and his lyricist Bernie Taupin. The non-stop parade of razzle dazzle costumes by Martine Bertrand rivals Las Vegas for sheer spectacle. Adam Larsen's eye-popping projections provide the showy backdrop for the dancing which is heavily into T&A. Beef-cake abounds with an overload of men in sequined jock straps.

By using 14 songs by John and Taupin, Grand-Maître has linked his company to one of the most successful pop music teams in history. Talk about a ready-made audience. Oddly, "Love Lies Bleeding" gives the piece its evocative title, but is not one of the included songs.

Grand-Maître is on record as saying he regards "Loves Lies Bleeding" as a Broadway musical and it's a good analogy. Each song is given a spiffy production number with its own context. This ballet is in-your-face theatrics – a glitzy sound and light show striving to be the ultimate in stage bling. Guillaume Lord's attractive set design is both lavish and minimalist at the same time, while lighting meister Pierre Lavoie has showered the stage with coloured magic.

The production is not a biography of John. Rather, Grand-Maître was inspired by aspects of John's life. Taken as a whole cloth, "Love Lies Bleeding" is a celebration of the homoerotic, particularly the outrageous and extravagant side of things. Everyone and everything is out of the closet.

In many of the numbers, it’s impossible to tell the women from the men and gender-bending is the name of the game. The apogee of gay is the drag queen trio performed to "Believe". Anthony Pina and Mark Dennis can certainly cavort in high heels, but the spins of Patrick Doe in his silver stilettos are absolutely astonishing.

On the other hand, Grand-Maître has not forgotten the painful journey homosexuality has had to endure. There are a group of dancers he calls the Demonics who represent the dark side. In their three appearances, they are the purveyors of pain and victimization ("Have Mercy on the Criminal"), the destroyers of beauty ("Goodbye Yellow Brick Road"), and the killers of dreams ("The King Must Die").

The ballet begins with a character called Elton Fan (Yukichi Hattori). He is intrigued by the closed curtain which opens when he jumps up on the stage. First he finds a child on a tricycle (Clara Stripe) who is young Elton circling round a spotlight. From this seemingly ordinary child, and this nondescript circle of light, will grow the legendary man and his extravaganza of excess.

Suddenly, to "Benny and the Jets", Elton Fan becomes an avatar of Elton John himself. He is dressed up in a baseball outfit replete with John's signature gaudy glasses. He becomes the lead figure in a big baseball production number. Every uniform has "Elton 1" on its back. The dancing is Broadway jazz with sass.

Thus, Grand-Maître has his structure. Every subsequent number will feature Elton Fan in some fashion as he experiences his idol's life from an inside perspective. Hattori is a formidable dancer and Grand-Maître has given him lots of flashy choreography. There isn't one virtuoso trick from the Russian imperial style that Hattori doesn't do. The guy is a dynamo, and his talent is exploited to the max. He is also rarely off stage and we see him being undressed and dressed before each new number. His journey is a show within a show.

The most imaginative number is "Rocket Man (I think it's going to be a long long time)". The projections show scenes from the cosmos, while Hattori is dressed as an astronaut. Being on roller blades makes him move in other-worldly fashion, and three lackeys manoeuvre his body to mimic weightlessness. Behind him are couples, the men carrying the women in a series of lifts. The kicker is, their entire bodies are covered with small red lights so in the darkness, they glow like fantastical aliens. The coup de théâtre is Hattori speeding across the stage with a stream of fire coming out of his rear end. The man becomes the rocket as it were.

Grand-Maître has tried to include substance amidst the flash and dash. For example, "The Bridge" is a poignant male duet for Hattori and Kelley McKinlay that begins with a prolonged kiss. McKinlay's character is called David, referring to John's life partner David Furnish, and the duet is a testament to homosexual love.

That being said, "Love Lies Bleeding" is ballet lite. The choreography is sexy with echoes of Bob Fosse and Jerome Robbins, but it is more show than tell. Any deep social statements are swamped by the glitz and glamour.

And then there is the genuine worry that Alberta Ballet is becoming formulaic. First there was Joni Mitchell. This season it's Elton John. Next season is Sarah McLachlan. Does this mean AB is going to run through every songbook of note?

By Paula Citron

Winnipeg, the capital of the prairie province of Manitoba, sits in the middle of Canada. Oddly, it is home to both Canada’s oldest ballet company – Royal Winnipeg Ballet – and oldest modern dance company. Winnipeg’s Contemporary Dancers was founded by Rachel Browne in 1964. The current artistic director is Brent Lott.

Lott trained at the professional programs of both the RWB and The School of Contemporary Dancers (which is attached to WCD). After graduating from SCD in 1990, Lott began his professional dance career with Dance Collective followed by Ruth Cansfield Dance. Lott danced for WCD under the direction of Tom Stroud from 1999 to 2004. During this time he also became Stroud's assistant. Lott was appointed artistic director of WCD in June, 2005. He is active as both a choreographer for dance and theatre, and as a guest teacher.

Abstract dance invites audiences to read their own interpretations into choreography. Lott's latest work "Between the Sycamore" is just such an empty page waiting for the viewer to provide the words.

This is not to say that the artistic director of WCD did not begin with his own theme. Inspired by imagery drawn from Egyptian mythology and the life cycle of the Scarab Beetle, Lott set out to explore the nature of community, and humankind's attempt to make sense of its place in a complex world. He sees the piece as blurring the lines between sacred narrative and natural law.

Lott is no stranger to expansive topics. His previous work "Struck" dealt with the fact that in every moment of our lives, we encounter the past, and thus we live in a world of memories while also existing in the present tense.

But these very lofty ideas raise an interesting question. How does a choreographer render such philosophical musings into movement? The result is the aforementioned abstract dance because it is impossible to create actual concrete images.

As a result, Lott's work can be viewed in two ways – the official and the personal – and both are equally valid. For those who are privy to his theme (which is not detailed in the program), one can look for the influences of Egyptian devotional art, sense of ritual and animal imagery – and they are certainly all there in the piece.

On the other hand, coming to the work cold, as it were, offers an infinitely wider landscape of individual interpretation – and it's more fun too. For example, when I first saw the title "Between the Sycamore", I imagined a small mid-west prairie town or city (like Winnipeg), with tree-lined streets and people sitting on their porches in the coming twilight – a community of neighbours. This aspect is in the work as well.

Lott's physicality is very attractive although a mite repetitive. His five strong women (Kristin Haight, Lise McMillan, Johanna Riley, Sarah Roche and apprentice Lindsay Alford) are formidable dancers, and Lott makes them look good. The basic physical motif involves gestures that are searching or reaching - the arms opened wide and curved in welcome. The eyes are always looking at something far away, and so there is a sense of the unreachable. Precarious one-leg balances and slow sensuous muscle isolations are counterpointed by energetic movement that covers the floor in turns and jumps.

The structure is like verse and chorus. Individual solos are separated by ensemble passages. During the solos, the remaining four dancers place themselves into meaningful backdrops. At one point, for example, the four become a closely knit defensive group, backs tightly together as they each face the front, knees up, looking above to the stars. Lott tries to break out of predictability (solo/ensemble) by throwing in some duets which capture either a sense of nurturing through entangled limbs, or combat and confrontation.

Greg Lowe's compelling original electronica score contains a driving bottom rhythm upon which are layered delicate chords or wailing sirens. Norma Lachance's lovely peach and green dresses evoke ancient priestesses with their diaphanous underskirts and floating outer panels. Dean Cowieson's lighting is gorgeously dramatic with its play of light, shadow and colour.

With "Between the Sycamore", Lott bids audiences to enter the piece and find their own stories.

Ballet BC is the proverbial phoenix rising from the ashes. In an impressive second coming, the company's relaunch at Vancouver’s Queen Elizabeth Theatre featured sophisticated choreography performed by a terrific group of dancers.

The concert was called "Re/Naissance" and for good reason. Facing crippling debt at the end of 2008, BBC virtually closed its doors. In a stunning reversal of fortune, the company is solvent enough to actually offer a full 2010/11 season.

The troubles became public in November, 2008 when the company declared bankruptcy, laying off all the dancers and administration staff. The financial woes were due to a $600,000 debt and dwindling ticket sales. After restructuring, in January, 2009, the company rehired artistic director John Alleyne and the dancers on short-term contracts so that Ballet BC could finish the season.

An aggressive fund raising campaign allowed the company to contemplate a future, but only after Alleyne stepped down in June after 17 years. Jay Rankin, an administrator with an excellent résumé, was pirated away from Toronto Dance Theatre to be BBC’s executive director. Emily Molnar was hired as interim artistic director in July, 2009, and has since been appointed permanent artistic director.

Molnar ‘s mandate for BBC is contemporary ballet on the edge. A former member with The National Ballet of Canada, she joined Frankfurt Ballet before retuning to Canada to dance with Ballet BC. Molnar has been called one of Canada’s “new generation of ballet sensations” by Maclean’s Magazine. Her international career covers all five continents as both a choreographer and dancer. Her commissions include works for Alberta Ballet, Ballet Mannheim, Ballet Augsburg, Cedar Lake Dance, ProArteDanza, and Morphoses/The Wheeldon Company, among others.

The choreography at this relaunch was a taste of things to come. The clever programming for this all important "Re/Naissance" concert included three works which, although they were all Vancouver premieres, have a proven track record. The pieces also made the dancers look good. In short, as a harbinger, this show should entice audiences back into the BBC fold.

There was also good variety. William Forsythe's "Herman Schmerman" (1992) is in-your-face-with-attitude dance, while Crystal Pite's "Short Works: 24" (2001) is witty and eye-catching. Both choreographers are well-known and much-admired. Molnar comes with connections, as both Forsythe and Pite donated their works to the cause.

Molnar's ace-in-the-hole, designed to whet the appetites of Vancouver dance fans in search of new blood, was Itzik Galili's mysterious and subtle "Things I told Nobody" (2000). Israeli-born and Netherlands-based, Galili is a star in Europe and virtually unknown on this side of the Atlantic.

With the fate of the company so iffy last year, it must be considered a miracle that Molnar was able to regroup the BBC dancers. Of the company of 13, only three are new. The complement was rounded up to 16 with two apprentices and guest artist Martin Lindinger. Collectively, they looked very accomplished.

The dancers did need a little more sass and sex in the Forsythe piece. "Herman Schmerman" should be both cheeky and demanding, but to give them their due, the dancers did nail the killer combinations. Pite's high energy, athletic piece, comprising of 24 vignettes ranging from solos to group ensembles, was performed with the appropriate tongue-in-cheek.

Galili has taken four classical music warhorses by Handel, Vivaldi, Mozart and Satie, and made them seem fresh. His structure is formal - bookend solos, and a central quartet surrounded by two sets of duets. His approach is emotional interpretation expressed through movement that is supple and fluid.

Handel's aria "Ombra mai fù" from "Serses", also known as "Handel's Largo", is a good example of Galili's finding the heart of the music. The section begins with one dancer dimly lit, and gradually, one by one, the lights reveal the other nine dancers. They are sitting on the floor performing movement that is filled with longing – deep back arches, enticing outstretched arms, circling heads. One feels the lament in the soul.

Welcome back Ballet BC!

By Paula Citron

Mocean Dance is the clever name of Halifax, Nova Scotia’s premiere contemporary dance company. This accomplished group was in Oakville, of all places, (a Toronto bedroom community), as part of a pay-what-you-can evening to encourage new audiences for dance. The company then moved on to repeat the program in the small Ontario city of St. Catherines near Niagara Falls. Mocean is a perfect choice for this kind of initiative because it is very audience friendly, and the Oakville concert did attract a respectable audience.

Mocean is an East Coast success story since it began to make waves in 2001. Currently led by co-artistic directors Carolle Crooks and Sara Harrigan, the group was founded by five young women who wanted to have a dance career in the East (although they mostly trained in larger centres outside the Maritimes). The original dancer/founders were determined to prove that a professional, permanent company was possible in Atlantic Canada, and they have succeeded beyond their expectations. This versatile company commissions Canadian choreographers and company members to create dance that is highly physical and emotionally rich. Part of Mocean’s mandate is to offer outreach activities to support the growth of dance in Canada.

The company is squarely anchored in modern dance, and the Oakville program avoided any current avant-garde modernisms which might turn off dance virgins. But lest anyone think that Mocean is dance lite, its repertoire contains works that have themes of substance. In other words, the company is accessible but not simple.

Mocean brought a clever program by two Halifax-based choreographers (Cory Bowles and Lisa Phinney) and one from Montreal’s Roger Sinha. The three works covered a broad scope of dance from poignant, to humour, to social statement. The pieces also showed off the considerable talents of Mocean’s dancers.

The most recent work was Bowles’ entertaining solo “Live from the Flash Pan” (2009), performed with delicious tongue-in-cheek by Carolle Crooks. Bowles’ heroine, as such, is a disillusioned bar singer equipped with a microphone, de rigueur stool with water bottle, and a guitar case.

Using music by Abdullah Ibrahim, The Pretenders, Gorillaz and Radiohead, Bowles has created witty choreography that substitutes movement for words. That is the heart of the piece. In convincing fashion, Crooks’ body sings.

For example, she captures the sexy, cool jazz of Ibrahim by making love to the mic, while the driving rhythm of Radiohead’s hard rock turns her into a perpetual motion machine that outdoes Mick Jagger at his most intense. But there is more to this singer. Her anger at herself and the audience boils over into a verbal tirade that is a very public meltdown.

Lisa Phinney’s “Beside Myself, Gasping” (2008) opened the program and is flat-out dance. Crooks and Alicia Orr MacDonald play two warring sides of one woman in crisis. The situation is clearly a romantic relationship that has ended badly, and the minimalist repetitions of the Philip Glass score underline the inner turmoil.

MacDonald is the weepy, defeated side as showers of Kleenex rain down from above. Her movement motif is a series of heart-rending convulsions. Crooks is the side that is determined to get over this hurt, and Phinney has given Crooks a more determined and dynamic physicality. From time to time, the choreography does brings them together in movement unison, and the emotional distress becomes even more graphic.

Roger Sinha’s “5 Breaths” (2005) is a Mocean signature piece, and it still rings true. Sinha has given the three women (Crooks, MacDonald and Tania Jean) intricate choreography that embraces a fast-paced fusion of movement and gesture to represent the relentless whirligig of life. Set to a fascinating and multi-nuanced electronic score by Finnish composer Kimmo Pohjonen, “5 Breaths” is about the relativity of time. The dancers also employ, throughout the piece, little spinning tops that are galvanized by breathing into them five times.

The clever text component is all about how long it takes to do routine things in life in terms of minutes and seconds – from brushing teeth, to shopping, to making love. The words then move into the more abstract, such as back-stabbing takes 45 seconds while worrying about a dance career is 24 hours. But at the end, when the dancers recite the time it took the first tsunami to hit the Indian Ocean shoreline, or mention the 56 second earthquakes that levelled an Iranian city and the island of Haiti, or that hurricane Katrina was over land for 7 hours - this recital of calamities moves the count into world significance. Clearly this section is updated whenever the piece is performed, and there is, alas, always fresh horrors to choose from. Sinha himself is heard on the final voiceover announcing the length of time it took for his son to be born, so there is hope.

"5 Breaths" is deep with meaning, and a heart-felt plea to take a pause from the frenzy of life to smell the roses. The well-defined choreography is Sinha's usual mix of high energy athleticism, coupled by interludes of profound adagio reflection. Eye-catching choreography coupled with a theme that puts life itself into perspective, makes “5 Breaths” a very strong work.

Vancouver choreographer Wen Wei Wang creates works that are feasts both for the eye and the soul, or what he calls “dances of spice and sadness”.

Think about a stage festooned with giant peacock feathers. Now imagine those feathers being attached to every possible part of a dancer’s body like strange, constantly moving tentacles. These feathers are the astonishing central metaphor of Wang’s “Cock-pit”, his well-reviewed work that is currently touring Canada.

Wang, 46, is one of this country’s most in-demand choreographers. In the seven years since founding his own company, Wen Wei Dance Society, in 2003, Wang’s magnificently crafted pieces have appeared in every major Canadian city. Like many dancesmiths from eastern cultures, he is acutely aware of the importance of aesthetic beauty. In tightly controlled movement, he fashions ravishing images out of the human body.

In China, where Wang was born, the People’s Liberation Army runs over 70 arts schools and the companies they feed. Wang was selected as a student for the PLA’s Langzhou Arts School when he was 13. His fusion works are steeped in the Russian ballet and Chinese traditional dances he studied there. Wang later become a principal dancer with Langzhou Regional Dance Company. He also took choreography courses at the PLA Dance Academy in Beijing.

Wang has also been influenced by the contemporary dance he experienced in the west when he made his big leap to Simon Fraser University’s Contemporary Arts Summer Institute when he was 26. His Canadian experience includes stints with Judith Marcuse Dance Company, Les Grands Ballets Canadiens and Ballet British Columbia. Before founding Wen Wei Dance Society, he spent three years as a busy independent choreographer, setting works on companies such as Alberta Ballet and Ballet Jörgen Canada.

I spoke to Wang about his glittering career, his work “Cock-pit”, not to mention all those feathers.

*Did you display a talent for dance early on?

When I was six, my parents took me and my two older sisters to see the revolutionary ballet “The White Haired Girl”, and I could repeat every dance step when I got home. After that, I created dances using chess pieces. My parents thought that dance was not a suitable career for their only son, and tried to steer me into painting and the violin. When I was selected for dance school when I was 13, my parents gave in because artists are well treated by the People’s Liberation Army, not to mention that all the students’ parents get gifts every year. I was the school’s top student for the five years I was there.

*Why did you want to leave China?

It wasn’t enough for me. When I was studying choreograph in Beijing, we saw tapes of George Balanchine, Martha Graham and Pina Bausch. Contemporary dance was exciting and I wanted to learn more about it. Grant Strate, whom I had met in Beijing, offered me a scholarship to Simon Fraser’s summer program. It was a big dangerous step giving up my company position, being unemployed, waiting for my Canadian visa. I arrived in Canada with $200 and two suitcases.

*Is there a Wen Wei style?

I bring something different to dance. It’s a multicultural fusion of east and west that mixes all kinds of techniques together including the martial arts. It is movement that is both grounded and free, yet very physical. My dances are about life, but look like a dream. They go beyond reality. They make you think. The dancers need a strong presence to pull them off.

•I have always found the visual component so important in your choreography.

I have a physical memory. For example, I remember every step I ever danced or created. I read movement like other people read words. I see dance language in a visual way – like a moving picture or sculpture in space. I create pictures into which the audience can read their own stories.

*You’ve said jokingly that “Cock-pit” is for the boys.

Yes. The piece was inspired by being in an all-boys’ dormitory at dance school far away from home. The cast has four men and one woman. She is the ideal mother and the sexual goddess. It’s about bodies that start to change and wet dreams and sexual taboos and homoeroticism. There was no sex education in China. My homosexuality was never allowed expression. My parents still don’t know.

*Your use of peacock feathers in “Cock-pit” is breath-taking, particularly how they become extensions of the body.

I had been thinking about those feathers for four years, how they denoted the powerful leader/warrior in Beijing Opera by being part of the headdress, but I was determined that my piece would not look like Beijing Opera. “Cock-pit” makes very strong statements and create different illusions depending on where the feathers are attached - head, wrist, knee, shoulder, fingers, and especially, the crotch.

*I’ve always felt that your works run deep.

It’s true. I don’t create just beautiful dance shows. I’m drawn to themes that are psychological, that look into the universals of the human experience, that ask all the questions that were never answered in a closed state like China.

A fascinating dance experience took place at Winchester Street Theatre over the Easter weekend in Toronto. Two very different dancers performed the same solo by choreographer Deborah Hay. Here’s the kicker. The personal aesthetics of Toronto Dance Theatre artistic director Christopher House, and Dance Art Foundation artistic director Joe Moran (London, England), have radically transformed the Hay solo.

Some background is needed to understand the concert. First and foremost, the 68-year-old Hay is one of the great American dance innovators. During the 1960s, Hay was a founder of New York’s legendary Judson Dance Theatre which unleashed post-modern dance on the world. This movement, inspired by the experiments of choreographer Merce Cunningham and composer John Cage, broke every known rule and technique of contemporary dance to create total freedom of expression.

Secondly, House and Moran, along with 19 other senior international dance artists, were part of Hay’s Solo Performance Commissioning Project (SPCP) that takes place each August in Findhorn, Scotland. During the 11-day intensive, Hay teaches and coaches her new solo. Each participant signs an agreement that he/she will engage in daily practice of the solo for three months before it is shown to the public. Hay insists on this so the dancer has the time to make the solo his/her own – hence the words “adaptation by” on the program credits.

Another aspect of the SPCP is that each participant raises the money on a grassroots level to encourage communities to become involved in the commissioning of art. They are not allowed to use their own funds to get themselves to Findhorn or pay Hay’s commission fee. A combined list of all the sponsors of all the participants, be they government, corporate or individual, is publicly on display wherever the Hay solo is performed (in this case, the Winch lobby).

Hay presents her solo to her SPCP dancers through a series of sequences and images, and her 2009 offering is called “At Once”. They have the liberty of playing with time, direction, and speed – and even music and lighting. The most startling difference between House and Moran is that House’s performance, at roughly 37 minutes, is almost 10 minutes longer than Moran’s.

It is important to remember that Hay’s works run deep behind the deceptively simple movements. House is a mature artist and in his hands, “At Once” is bittersweet, melancholy reflection. Moran’s interpretation explodes with the energy and insouciance of youth.

Take for example this sequence. At one point, the dancer is still. All the movement is in the face. House appears to be fighting back tears as his facial muscles expand and contract. With Moran, it is more of a defiant funny face. House emphasizes the blinking eyes; Moran the tremulous, grimacing lips.

Another repeating motif is one foot gently tapping as arms are raised. House flexes his knee in the tapping leg, and the movement seems to be a deliberate control of emotion. When he raises his arms, they form a beautiful oval above his head. He is the picture of grace under fire. Moran’s foot tapping is impatience. His raised arms, elbows bent, fingers touching, form a line covering his eyes, which has the impact almost of a rude gesture.

It was clever having the solos separated by a 15 minute intermission. It gave a chance for House’s interpretation to settle in the brain. It also meant that Moran’s wild circular opening was more of a genuine surprise.

The minute the concert was over, I wanted the performance to start all over again so I could, with the benefit of hindsight, better come to grips with just how individualized the solo had become.

________________________
At Once Twice
Choreography by Deborah Hay
Adaptation and solo performance by Christopher House and Joe Moran
Winchester Street Theatre in Toronto
Apr. 1 to 3, 2010
________________________

It is 1999 and the premiere of James Kudelka’s “Swan Lake” for the National Ballet of Canada. Within five minutes, I know I’m in for something radically different.

Instead of happy courtiers and peasants celebrating Prince Siegfried’s 21st birthday, we see an all-male society. It is these hunters who perform a technically demanding, testosterone driven version of the famous “Swan Lake” waltz. The lone female, a serving girl called “A Wench” in the program, is gang-raped at the end of the act. To say I’m stunned is an understatement, but I also think Kudelka has produced a work of endless fascination.

This season, the National staged the 5th revival of Kudelka’s extreme rethink at the Four Seasons Centre. The leading roles in “Swan Lake” are the sine qua non of the Russian classical repertoire, and every National principal dancer (who is not on maternity leave or injured) was on stage during the 12-performance run.

First, the original “Swan Lake”. The 1895 Marius Petipa/Lev Ivanov St. Petersburg production (court acts by Petipa; lakeside acts by Ivanov), performed to Tchaikovsky’s glorious score, is considered the template version of “Swan Lake”. Inspired by a German legend, the 4-act ballet begins with Prince Siegfried’s birthday party where he is told by his mother that he must choose a wife.

In the second act, while out hunting, Siegfried falls in love with Odette, the queen of the White Swans. Odette and her companions are really beautiful young women under the spell of the evil sorcerer Rothbart. If a young man swears his everlasting love to Odette, the enchantment will be broken.

The third act takes place at a court ball. The festivities are interrupted by Rothbart and his daughter Odile, the Black Swan. Because of her resemblance to Odette, Siegfried swears his eternal love to Odile, and this betrayal of Odette is the tragic heart of the ballet.

In the fourth act, the sorrowing Odette drowns herself in the lake followed by the distraught Siegfried. Because Petipa insisted on happy endings, the “Apotheosis” finale shows Prince Siegfried and Odette united forever in heaven.

Kudelka’s version is not the first controversial “Swan Lake” for the National Ballet. Erik Bruhn’s 1967 production transformed Rothbart into the Black Queen to became a psychological drama about both the negative and positive power of women.

Among the more controversial versions of the ballet on the international scene is English choreographer Matthew Bourne’s 1995 “Swan Lake”. Created for his own company, it featured an all-male corps de ballet of swans, a homo-erotic relationship between Prince Siegfried and the White Swan, and a satiric look at Britain’s royal family. As an interesting side note, the scene at the end of the film “Billy Elliot” featuring the grown up Billy’s performance as the male White Swan is Bourne’s choreography.

The Bruhn and Bourne versions change basic elements of the traditional ballet. Kudelka’s radical treatment, however, incorporates ever major aspect of the original. For example, he reintroduces Rothbart with a meatier role, making him an equal protagonist with Prince Siegfried and Odette/Odile.

Purists who worship the Kirov/Bolshoi traditional “Swan Lake” hate Kudelka’s version. On the other hand, the National’s own dancers continue to be intrigued by Kudelka’s inventiveness.

One Kudelka innovation is a prologue where a winged, body beautiful Rothbart drives a sword into the ground. For Victoria Bertram, who plays Siegfried’s icy mother, Rothbart is a fallen angel, and the sword a harbinger of the evil to come.

In most versions of “Swan Lake”, the third act retains the ensemble character dances representing various nations that are a de rigueur staple of Russian imperial-style ballet. Kudelka has converted these into challenging solos for the princesses brought to the court as prospective brides, each accompanied by an ambassador (Spain, Italy, Hungary and Russia). They perform their dances in front of lascivious male courtiers.

“I think James’ “Swan Lake” is both poignant and brilliant,” says Bertram. “Whether you like it or not, it’s essential that classical ballet should move on and keep pushing the envelope.”

Tomas Schramek plays the role of both the Prince’s Tutor and the Spanish Ambassador. He likes the fact that the male dancers, who in the traditional versions are primarily porters for the ballerinas, have a lot to do in Kudelka’s version. “The fierce maleness is an important contrast to the more poetic prince,” he says.

On the other hand, Schramek feels that Kudelka has made the prince co-dependent. Siegfried’s soliloquy that expresses his malaise is danced with his friend Benno, and the famous Black Swan pas de deux is shared with Rothbart. “It means less of a showcase for the Prince,” he says, “but controversy is always good for the art.”

Rex Harrington, now company artist-in-residence, created the role of Rothbart in the Kudelka version. Says Harrington: “The prince wants to reject the misogynistic, male-dominated world of the court. The White Swan represents what is missing in the Prince’s life. In the fourth act, the swans wear black tutus representing evil. The erotic pas de cinq with Rothbart and four swans shows he’s in control. There is nothing limp or pretty here. What’s really clever is that the Wench’s first act solo contains elements of both Odette and Odile. James makes people think.”

How do ballerinas cope with the fact that Kudelka insists that the White Swan Odette is a bird and not an enchanted woman?

Says Xiao Nan Yu: “The Prince is escaping an imperfect world and the White Swan is perfection. As a bird, she represents the purity of the non-human world. In the third act, he is confused. Is Odile the human side of the bird?”

For Heather Ogden, the bird is the ideal of beauty. “Odette is the symbol of hope because Siegfried can only find comfort in an animal. Odile is a woman playing the bird.”

Making their debuts as Kudelka’s Siegfried are Zdenek Konvalina and Jiri Jelinek. They are completely accepting of Kudelka’s radicalisms as part of the job.

Says Jelinek: “I’m surprised that people say Kudelka is not classical. I find this ballet very classical. He’s a choreographer who creates interesting steps. He is also very musical. You do need more stamina because there is only one intermission. On the other hand, there is less interruption in the narrative.”

Konvalina likes the dramatic element in Kudelka’s version. “The story is more dominant,” he says. “James’ steps are innovative within classical forms. You also have more freedom of interpretation. When we worked with James in the studio, he wanted us to concentrate on character and have the technicalities flow out of characterization.”
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These ““Swan Lake”” performances marked the debut of new principal dancer Jiri Jelinek, late of Stuttgart Ballet, and the verdict is: close but no cigar.

Jelinek has a reputation for being an excellent dramatic dancer, but although his Prince Siegfried made all the right moves, his performance lacked fire. Physically, he has the princely form and is a fine partner, but he needed more dash and vigour. He was a tad too cautious to own Siegfried outright, but his performance did convey all of the prince’s emotional journey.

In his defence, the guy just stepped off a plane barely two months ago and into the challenging choreography of James Kudelka. One can’t blame him for being wary.

Kudelka’s Siegfried is a self-absorbed loner. Jelinek concentrated too much on the prince’s vulnerability at the expense of expressing personality. He was a dreamer without definition which allowed him to be outdanced by Odette/Odile and Rothbart. On the other hand, he radiated the prince’s bruised and broken spirit, but just never found his spine.

On a positive note, Jelinek looks like a principal dancer. He is tall and ruggedly handsome, and he can do the Russian virtuoso tricks. In his Act 111 variations, for example, he exhibited exciting jump turns. In fact, he nailed three in a row.

Although he does not have the softest ballon (his landings were a bit thumpy), Jelinek’s port de bras is exquisite. He is blessed with those all important extra long arms that float through space with consummate lyricism.

His Odette-Odile, Xiao Nan Yu, is one of the National’s tallest prima ballerinas who has been waiting for just such a tall man to come into her ballet life. They look gorgeous together. Now they have to find the chemistry.

In other words, the jury is still out. Let’s wait for Jelinek’s “Onegin” in June, said to be the best in the world. The National is reviving the beloved Cranko ballet with glittering new sets and costumes by the always lavish designer Santo Loquasto.

Gradimir Pankov has found his forever home. When Les Grands Ballets Canadiens opened its “Soirée Jiri Kylian” on Mar. 18 at Montreal’s Place des Arts, there was a brief ceremony on stage as Pankov received his Canadian citizenship.

The 2009-10 season marks Pankov’s 10th anniversary as artistic director of Les Grands. Under his watch, the company has become world-renown for its cutting edge contemporary ballet repertoire that includes both revered avant-garde icons like Kylian, Mats Ek and Ohad Naharin, and new blood such as Stijn Celis, Didy Veldman and Jean-Christophe Maillot.

Pankov was born in 1938 in Skopje, Macedonia in what was then Yugoslavia. To understand the importance of a forever home, is to know Pankov’s peripatetic career. As either dancer, teacher or artistic director (or all three), Pankov has been part of 12 companies in seven countries.

*How did you become a dancer?

I had always danced because family celebrations included folk dancing. In 1955, American Ballet Theatre performed “Les Sylphides” in Skopje and I wanted to be Erik Bruhn surrounded by all those beautiful women. The Macedonian National Ballet was offering a male-only, after-school intensive in order to get more boys for the company. When I finished that course, I attended the national ballet school because I wanted more training – so there I was, a soloist with the company and going to ballet school at the same time.

*It’s interesting that early on in your career, you were drawn to choreography outside classical ballet.

When I was doing my military service, I saw both Martha Graham and José Limón in Belgrade. I felt that modern dance was the real art because of its dramatic strength. In 1963, a terrible earthquake destroyed the theatre in Skopje so I became a guest dancer all over Yugoslavia and Europe. I left Yugoslavia permanently in 1967 when I was 29. I had fallen in love with Maurice Béjart’s contemporary ballet style so I ultimately joined the Karlsruhe Ballet because the artistic director, Walter Huber, was a former Béjart dancer. Contemporary ballet is exciting because it demands more than technique. You interpret a role through body expression.

*You certainly were a much admired dancer with five different German companies. You were even offered contracts by Pina Bausch in Wuppertal and John Cranko in Stuttgart. What made you finally stop dancing?

I was 40, I had a back problem, and dance was no longer a pleasure. I had studied pedagogy in Yugoslavia so becoming a ballet master was a logical next step. I didn’t think I was a good choreographer but I knew I was a good teacher.

*You’re on record as saying every step of your career has shaped the leader you’ve become. Can you elaborate?

I believe in camaraderie. Being part of a team is good motivation, while being a dictator is not. That came from my army experience. At Dortmund Ballet and the National Ballet of Finland, I learned how to deal with people. A small company is like a family, and it takes a lot of time and work to make sure the dancers feel positive about what they do. In fact, the only easy time I had in my career was just being a dancer because other people made all the decisions.

*The companies you worked with as either an assistant artistic director or artistic director reads like a who’s who - Netherlands Dance Theatre, Cullberg Ballet, Grand Ballet of Geneva among them.

I was lucky that my life has crossed paths with great artists, and I’ve been able to call on those friends to set works on my various companies. Through them, I’ve learned the difference between a step-maker and a choreographer. I believe dancers give the best performances to good choreography.

*You were actually retired and doing guest teaching around the world when you got the call from Les Grands. What made you take up the mantle again?

The freedom. Les Grands is an independent company and not attached to an opera house. And then there was the challenge. We have only 34 dancers, so why do second rate performances of the classics? I’ve built up an exciting repertoire that is different than any other company in North America. That’s what’s put us on the map and attracted a younger audience. Les Grands also gave me a chance to create a true ensemble. I don’t want a company of stars. Every dancer, whether on a soloist or corps de ballet contract, has an equal opportunity to be cast in a role.

*Is there an over-riding philosophy that has anchored the success of your career?

Like my grandfather said: “A big tree has to take the wind.” An artistic director is always exposed. I’m not afraid of the wind.

Old Men Dancing is as advertised – 11 middle age guys performing choreography by some of Canada’s best dancesmiths. It’s an endearing show with the wily official title “Wiser and Still Gorgeous (Do Not Resuscitate)”.

With an age range from 50 to 75, and without formal dance training, these Peterborough, Ontario men from all walks of life have been coming together since 2002 to create performances and socialize (read beer drinking in a local pub). The founders were musician and composer Michael Hermiston and paramedic George Barron. (Peterborough is about an hour and a half northwest of Toronto. It is the gateway city to the beautiful Kawartha Lakes tourist region.)

When choreographer Bill James bought a farm in the Peterborough area, he began working with the men in 2005. James introduced the group to professional choreography, and their Free Fall Festival show featured commissioned works by Allen Kaeja, D.A. Hoskins, Marie-Josée Chartier and James. (The Free Fall Festival, curated by Toronto’s avant-garde Theatre Centre, features the new and the different.)

What is interesting is that four very different choreographers found a commonality of language. Each piece showcased loose, easy physicality that included gentle undulations of the body and a variety of hand and arm gestures. The wave effect, where one movement follows the other in a staggered progression, was also a shared motif.

It was the type of kinetics that one would assume the men would come up with on their own in a free improvisation. In short, it suited their lack of training very well and gave them polish. Nonetheless, within this parallel of expression, was the signature voice of each choreographer.

Kaeja’s “Unhinged” used Edgardo Moreno’s original score to good effect. The percolating electronica began smoothly and evenly but gradually picked up speed and dynamic, as did the choreography.

At first the men kept to a lemming course of conformity, but by the end, showed individual expression. Kaeja’s forte is weight bearing contact improv, and this physicality was very much in evidence. These duets were the bonding from which the men broke away to freedom.

Chartier’s choreography always begins with art work. “How to Wrestle an Angel” was inspired by the sculptural installations of Spanish visual artist Juan Muñoz and included two moveable sets of bleachers. The title is from a cunningly subversive poem by Jacob Scheier that dictates anti-religious anarchy in order to win a wrestling match with a celestial being.

Eric Cadesky gave Chartier an electronica score of shifting sounds, including the blurred voices of the performers themselves that mirrored the kaleidoscope of images of the dance. The ever-changing groupings evoked marching armies and flocks of birds, sports events and the rolling seas. It was a man’s world where angels would fear to tread.

Hoskins has always had a streak of sly humour and “Death of a Serious Clown” included a very cleverly edited Nico Stagias film of the old men talking heads. The men were asked questions from the mundanities of their hobbies and their favourite cars, to their more philosophical religious convictions. Fast cuts between them gave rise to droll contradictions and inconsistencies.

The live performance focused on group bonding, and men being boys. There was everything from slow dancing to the martial arts, told mostly through a series of duets. They both welcomed each other and challenged each other in what was a very human, if male, story. Robert Kingsbury was responsible for the evocative music mix that included sound effects and snatches of songs.

Perhaps because James has been working with the group the longest, his “Weathering”, with an original atmospheric score of nature sounds by Michael Hermiston, included the most obvious choreography. Visual artist Esther Vincent provided the weather balloon upon which played projections of moody rural landscapes.

James saw the phenomenon of weather mirroring both human emotions and aging, and the piece was a melancholy meditation. It began with the men lying on their backs, knees raised and holding hands. What followed was a beautiful series of groupings as the men changed position in a wave effect without ever losing contact with each other.

I suspect that as more top flight choreographers work with this group of ardent movers, they will be able to impose more physical challenges.

And as a final note, Old Men attracted huge and appreciative crowds to their shows. There were certainly more men in attendance than usual at a contemporary dance concert.

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Old Men Dancing: Wiser and Still Gorgeous (Do Not Resuscitate)
Bill James/Atlas Moves Watching
Free Fall Festival
Choreography by Allen Kaeja, D.A. Hoskins, Marie-Josée Chartier, and James
Toronto’s Enwave Theatre
Mar. 26 and 27, 2010