Salutes too late

Usually by the time a company comes up with a PR plan for damage control to minimize the negative impact of embarrassing events, it’s already too late.

This spring ABT was faced with the prospect of another three highly-talented and popular dancers in the primes of their careers defecting from the company because of the entrenched director's failure to recognize their talent and accord them the performing opportunities that they deserved. For several weeks after the resignations were announced (one announced by a dancer, the other two announced by the dancers' new employer and confirmed by ABT), ABT sat twiddling its thumbs until someone came up with the idea “We’ll have a party and celebrate each one of them! Everybody loves a celebration, especially our big donors. So, we’ll party the quitters out the door like it is a happy, wonderful event.” Meanwhile, the core audience reacting on Twitter, Facebook, forums, and blogs had already assessed the situation for what it was and had begun conveying unhappiness and anger at deafening decibel levels.

ABT began a flurry of eye-winking solicitations for people to attend “Fond Farewell" performances, and distributed free tickets in order to try to fill the Metropolitan Opera House and make it all look like a successful gala celebration week. The company had taken a play right out of the George W. Bush Handbook: “You can fool some of the people all of the time, and those are the ones you want to concentrate on.”

At Sascha Radetsky’s last performance, Haglund struck up a conversation with the woman next to him. Upon hearing that it was Sascha’s last performance, the woman said, “Oh, is she going to another company? Has she danced here long?” Now curious, Haglund asked the woman if she had been to ABT previously. She snickered and said, “No, I’m over at City Ballet.”

At Yuriko Kajiya’s last performance, Haglund sat next to a trio from Europe who had received their free tickets from their hotel. They had never heard of ABT and didn’t have a clue as to what Coppelia was about.

At Jared Matthews’ last performance, Haglund met people who were visiting the Met Opera House for the first time ever and likely wouldn't come back unless they were lured there for free.

ABT's core audience and donor base have continued to dwindle as disaffected patrons withdraw support because the company has become less about its own dancers and more about other companies' dancers. It doesn’t seem to matter much to the entrenched director. The underlying internal problems that precipitated the decline in support, the mass exits, and all of the contrived celebration were easily solvable. Easily, painlessly solvable without expense.

Collectively speaking, 40 years of skilled institutional knowledge walked out the door during one long weekend due to artistic management’s mistreatment – that’s years of monetary investment in their artistry, years of rehearsals paid for, years of training and preparation down ABT’s drain – sums of money that have to be immediately raised and spent again in order to cover these dancers’ replacements. While replenishment of talent is always ongoing, it is devastating to have 40 years of knowledge walk out the door at one time when the returns on the company's investment in those dancers are really starting to roll in.

Doesn’t the ABT Board wonder at all why Jared and Yuriko, two of the company’s finest soloists, decided to accept lateral transfers to a smaller regional company, in effect, take demotions rather than stay at ABT?

The entrenchment of McKenzie as artistic director is a textbook case of nonprofit irresponsibility. The Board’s blind loyalty to the company’s worst AD in its 75-year history has over-shadowed its positive contributions.

Because of the high caliber talent of Jared and Yuriko, these final two performances of ABT’s ultra-lite version of Coppelia were turned into Cinderellas. Yuriko gave a performance of Swanilda of artistic depth and technical precision that were peerless this season. Her characterization was completely unlike any we had seen before from either herself or from other ABT ballerinas. Whereas in the evening performance, little distinguished Paloma Herrera’s Swanilda from either her Kitri or her Act I Giselle; she served up the same old soup in a different bowl.

It wasn’t just Yuriko’s fabulous balances and other tricks, always delivered with true modesty, that differentiated her; it was her ability to employ imaginative musical shading that made them into more than tricks. Her Italian fouettes that flipped one after the other with sharply-creased linear energy suddenly slowed to a lingering balance to reveal the beauty of their circular pattern as well. Each perch to arabesque combined calm stillness in the body with an endless lengthening through the limbs. Her feet were so quiet and supple that it seemed at times that she was dancing without shoes. In sum, Yuriko gave a masterclass on what it means to be a ballerina as opposed to just a ballet dancer plodding through principal steps.

In the afternoon’s performance Franz was danced by Joseph Gorak whose development many of us have been following and writing about for eight years. He was finally noticed recently by the myopic mainstream critic who needs to see a dancer under a follow-spot the size of a Las Vegas searchlight in order to notice him and then read a dozen blogs, forums and Twitter accounts to learn what he should write about. At this stage of his career, Gorak has already surpassed the current David Hallberg in terms of partnering coordination, depth of acting ability, and purely classical technique. He shows no social awkwardness on stage and is hell-bent on not making a mistake while making it look easy. If he can avoid Hallberg’s propensity for injury, he will likely have a career of greater impact. Here’s hoping that stage sightings of Gorak are with ever increasing frequency but in a slowly and sensibly acquired repertoire.

As the wholesome young Franz who was overly confident in his two-timing abilities, Gorak was able to hold the complete attention of the audience with his every move. And oh those moves. His manege of coupe jetes not only had the expected beauty in classical shape and line, but were so coordinated and efficient that they looked utterly effortless. His precise musicality in moments where preciseness is always most difficult, such as when completing pirouettes and double tours, was as perfect as could be. At the conclusion of the wedding PdD in Act III in which Franz held Swanilda across his back in a fish type position, Yuriko’s foot of her bent-positioned leg clunked Gorak in the face a couple of times. He looked out at the audience with an amused expression as though it was just going to be part of a great memory of a great performance.

In the evening, Jared Matthews gave a performance big as steer (they’ll understand that in Houston) to close out a spring in which he stepped in at the last minute to dance Albrecht with two different partners in Minneapolis, then flew to the Mariinsky to dance with Veronika Part, stepped in at the last minute to dance Albrecht with Xiomara Reyes during the Met Season, added other performances to his soloist schedule to cover for injuries, and prepared his own debut as Franz in Coppelia which he then performed with his own injury.

Jared knew exactly the impression he wanted to leave with the audience for this final performance on the Met stage. He gave a full-out reading of Franz’s character that could be heard all the way to the back of the Family Circle in the opera house. He delivered double tours with brilliant, forceful finishes after which he beamed his smile up to the tiers. They have become some of his highest currency along with his squeaky clean pirouettes with dramatic finishes.

It's not where you start, it's where you finish.
It's not how you go, it's how you land.
. . . .
And you can be the cream of the crop;
It's not where you start, it's where you finish,
And you're gonna finish on top.

Shirley McLain knew what she was talking about.

When at bows before the curtain, Jared motioned his thanks and farewell to the audience and turned to the Met’s gold curtain to do the same, Haglund thought how great he must feel to have his talent unchained. As a new member of the Houston Ballet along with Yuriko, he may be surprised to see the extent to which his New York following refuses to say goodbye.

This won't be our final Pump Bump Salute to Jared and Yuriko: