Not many people know that the Iowa River which runs through the middle of the University of Iowa campus in Iowa City has long been home to a population of trumpeter swans. Most of them nest upstream along the shores near the Coralville Dam just north of the city. But back some 50 years ago, it wasn’t unusual to see them in pairs puttering along close to the campus riverbank when Haglund would walk across the river footbridge to his Iowa Writers’ Workshop sessions. Finding elegant swans in Iowa City where everything was designated as Hawkeye-this or Hawkeye-that somehow always seemed improbable — as improbable as finding an elegant Iowa swan at New York City Ballet where the ecosystem doesn’t include a natural habitat that would suggest one could flourish.
Last evening Iowa City native Miriam Miller landed her Odette Swan Queen on the stage in Peter Martins' production for the first time with a massive wingspan, soaring jete, and towering authority. This was a major entrance if ever there was one. Miller, one of the company’s tallest dancers, also had an innate delicacy in her long arms, a gracefulness in her neckline, and a softness to her artistic voice that compelled us to listen to her. We thought for a moment that she might actually wrestle the bow & arrow out of the kneeling Prince Siegfried’s hands as she tried to balance her arabesque against it, but she regained her composure quickly as she did again on a fluke misstep with a pique turn. The jitters evaporated like fog on a lake, and she went on to build an impressively eloquent and articulate story of Odette. The stretch of her arabesque was song-like, and one could visualize the line that ran from the tips of her elegant fingers to the tips of her toes. Her wrists, elbows, and bending torso spoke her sorrow; her legs and feet spoke her determination to find a release from the sorcerer’s spell. Hopefully, there will be opportunities to work on supported pirouettes to make them rotate more freely and also make those brushes from 4th or 5th position into the high ronde de jambe en l’air as stunning as we know they can be. Whether the designated abhorrent tempi will ever permit any Odette to fully point her feet in the rapid entrechat quatre/passe section is doubtful; but maybe it can one day be negotiated for the sake of the art. Not likely, but maybe.
Miller’s Odile was nearly complete from start to finish. This production’s version isn't one of the more challenging versions, but even the basic version done well is highly effective. What we appreciated most was that Miller did not drop Odile’s character when approaching a technical moment where the odds might be less in her favor to pull it off. She maintained Odile’s dark, seemingly impenetrable force throughout and built her performance to a climactic series of centered fouettes that got close enough to the finish line to get the checkered flag. At that point, all the stress was gone and she closed with a 4th act that was filled with soul and easy beauty.
Chun Wai Chan was everything one wants in a Prince Siegfried. His ballon and batterie were in great form. His partnering was remarkable given that Odette/Odile were a head taller when on pointe. His lifts were spectacular. His character’s searching for Odette, his regret at betraying her, and his determination to save her were all deeply felt by the viewer.
One of the unsettled questions that remains with this production after more than 25 years is why Odette turns into a Giselle and returns to the Wilis at the end while Siegfried turns into Albrecht who expresses profound grief at his loss. Von Rotbart's spell was clearly broken with his demise but for some reason, our Odette and Siegfried did not end up together, either dead or alive. Did she refuse to forgive him? What were the choreographer’s intentions? Did it have something to do with a big house fire in Connecticut? We don’t want to speculate, but the finish leaves this ballet unfinished, in our view. Seeing that the choreographer has time on his hands, it would be nice if he would tinker with this Swan Lake ending to make it less ambiguous and also clean up the succotash-inspired costume designs for the rest of the cast.
At this performance, Sebastian Villarini-Velez was wondrous as the Jester. We’ve seen this artist so infrequently due to his injuries that we were happily startled into remembering just how good a dancer and actor he is. Emily Kikta and Gilbert Bolden III were ravishing in the Hungarian Dance as were Alexa Maxwell and Alec Knight in the Russian Dance.
The H.H. Pump Bump Award, a Jimmy Choo toast to the future, is bestowed upon Miriam Miller for her glorious debut as Odette/Odile.
6 responses to “NYCB 2/27
New swan, new hope”
I think the ending is good actually, or at least surprising. Even though Siegfried made an innocent mistake, Odette suffered for it, so it kinda makes sense that she doesn’t want to trust him again and goes back to her swans, who would never do something to hurt her.
I think the ending is good actually, or at least surprising. Even though Siegfried made an innocent mistake, Odette suffered for it, so it kinda makes sense that she doesn’t want to trust him again and goes back to her swans, who would never do something to hurt her.
I agree with Abi about the ending insofar as it leaves a lot of room to interpretation. It seems like the Grigorovich Swan Lake where we are partly wondering whether the whole encounter was within the Prince’s head. That said, I do understand the objections to it.
I made it to see Unity Phelan’s Swan Queen (I thought she was fantastic), but I would’ve liked to see Miriam Miller as well.
I have fond memories of the Stanton Welch Swan Lake you wrote about. If only we could all make a trip to Houston to see Ben Stevenson’s insanely gorgeous Sleeping Beauty.
I agree with Abi about the ending insofar as it leaves a lot of room to interpretation. It seems like the Grigorovich Swan Lake where we are partly wondering whether the whole encounter was within the Prince’s head. That said, I do understand the objections to it.
I made it to see Unity Phelan’s Swan Queen (I thought she was fantastic), but I would’ve liked to see Miriam Miller as well.
I have fond memories of the Stanton Welch Swan Lake you wrote about. If only we could all make a trip to Houston to see Ben Stevenson’s insanely gorgeous Sleeping Beauty.
True, Sleeping Beauty and Yuriko Kajiya were made for each other.
True, Sleeping Beauty and Yuriko Kajiya were made for each other.