I love when the classic newspaper dance critics describe hip-hop.  They’re called “dance critics” but that really means “mainly a ballet critic” because ballets are frequent, funded, old, organized, and scheduled in advance.  They play well with newspapers.

It’s more difficult to pin down hip-hop.  Where does it happen?  Who is the teacher and who is the star?  Do hip-hoppers know that unlaced footwear is unsafe?  To an old-school dance critic, I would imagine that nothing about hip-hop fits ballet’s mold.  So it can be a little awkward to read a writer, versed in the tightly-zipped ways of classical ballet, tackle street dance.  There’s always a whiff of “oh-my-nerves-those-pants-are-low.”

New York Times dance critic, Alastair Macaulay, is best when he’s dissecting classical ballet.  However his wide-eyed description of Sadler Wells Breakin’ Convention is, in a word, cute:

I was aware of [hip-hop] in Britain in the early ’80s, but I had not appreciated quite how far-flung or how diverse it has become until this event…Junior, a powerfully built young French Congolese man, gave a one-man show in the which his feet often never met the ground.  He specializes in off-kilter handstands; he can run on his hands; once, he skittered across the stage by hopping in triplets - on alternate hands.  At first I assumed he was never going to stand upright!

I doubt that in the hip-hop world, they’re refered to as “off-kilter handstands.”

About a month ago, the National Ballet held a contest called “Release Your Inner Critic.”  I won!  My review of Innovations can be read here.

Thanks to Adrienne for picking the perfect prize: Swan Lake, framed and matted.  A month later, I’m still debating on the right wall.

I used to volunteer at the Washington Ballet School.  From my little office on K street, I’d hop on the red line, make a requisite stop at Whole Foods, then arrive at the school where loads of kids would be starting classes, ending classes and stretching in the middle of the hallways.  There was no job description for my position but it usually involved some administrative work, some planning and a lot of ice and Bandaid dispensing.

One evening, a senior student came to the office looking for Superglue.  I assumed a shoe had torn or a costume was snagged and so I helped him rummage around.  We eventually found a tiny tube of Krazy Glue at which point he sat on the ground and took off his ballet slipper, revealing a sweaty, mangled, blistered foot, with some low-grade bleeding.  Sure, a little gross, but ordinary in ballet school.  What came next was disgusting and unexpected (though still ordinary from what I’ve heard): the mending of split blisters using glue!  Ridiculous!

Noticing my recoil, he said, “Don’t worry, it’s made for this.  It sticks skin together so that it won’t crack apart anymore.”

With just a little drying time, the ballet slipper was on and he was back in the studio, landing jumps on newly patched feet.

And, as it turns out, he was right.  Superglue was originally made for times like this.

Darcy Kistler, left, adjusts six year-old Mia Cardillo’s legs as as Katrina Killian, right, adjusts Cardillo’s feet during auditions for new students at the School of American Ballet in New York.  It was the first time in the school’s 73 year-old history six year-olds were allowed to audition. Previously the earliest age group was eight.  Get ready Mia - that’s a face you’ll be expressing often!

The economists at Freakonomics pose an interesting question this week:

Over the past half-century, ballet dancers who perform Sleeping Beauty at London’s Royal Opera House have been raising their legs higher and higher. So why, over the same time period, have professional basketball players not improved their free-throw shooting?

The question* supposes that a raised leg in ballet is a technical benefit, much like better free-throwing. The trend of higher legs in ballet however, is not an improvement (if anything, it’s an injury-riddled detriment), but instead, simply a change in style.

There is an old phrase that says “The Italians invented ballet, the French gave it language, the Russians made it perfect and the Americans turned it in to gymnastics.” For the latter, we have George Balanchine to thank. Balanchine was among the Russian dance émigrés who came to the United States in the mid-1930s. Although his foundation was the classical, St. Petersburg training, Balanchine began to create a neoclassical technique that aligned ballet with the work of modern American and European artists and composers. Eventually cofounding the School of American Ballet and the NYCB, he institutionalized his method, becoming, arguably, the single largest influence in ballet since the 1800s.

What does the Balanchine method entail? To start, technically difficult steps, done at break neck speeds. On top of that, Balanchine was mad about the look of hyper-extensions. Once asked the difference between the Russian style of ballet and the style he created, he said, “The Russians divide the dancers body horizontally - heads, bodies, legs. I divide it vertically.” This strong vertical line meant that in arabesque, the extended leg would go much past waist level, to look like a split, done standing up. The overall illusion of the Balanchine Method is that dancers utilize more space in less time.

It is not surprising that a little change to the old ballet didn’t catch on in Stalin’s Russia. Ruling czars found these higher extensions a vulgar imposition and as a result, the experimental choreographers of Balanchine’s generation were suppressed, leaving European ballet stuck in its old traditions. No bother for “Mr. B,” however. Across the pond, he was launching his first ballet, Serenade, featuring this neo-classical technique. In 1934, the American ballet tradition was born, “replete with gymnastics,” as one reviewer claimed.

Today the dancers of Balanchine’s New York City Ballet are leaner and leggier than dancers in any other company, with huge extensions, extreme flexibility and - shocking - more hip and knee injuries than more traditionally trained dancers. Around the world, Balanchine’s “American” style is instantly recognizable and characterized by modern, rigorous technique.

In all athletic activities, including dance, technique is the underpinning of style. When the Williams sisters rally, they make tennis look graceful and effortless. That’s because their groundstroke technique involves a fluid follow through and sturdy footing. When Phelps swims, he looks like a dolphin, thanks to his impeccable rhythm and unique head positioning. Michael Jordan was famous for “flying” on the court (style), due to his ability to jump higher and longer than anyone else (technique).

To return to the Freakonomics question then, ballet and basketball are wrongly compared here. Free-throw shooting is a technique necessary to win. Once in place, it can be executed in a variety of styles. The exaggerated leg extension of the Balanchine tradition is the style, the final product. Delivering such grueling choreography required a newer kind of technique, namely open hips, greater flexibility and 180 degree turnout. At least in basketball, they let you keep your skeleton!

* Oddly, a team of academics studied and peer reviewed this very question.

“If you can’t find any potions for sore muscles at your local pharmacy it’s probably because the dancers of the National Ballet of Canada got there first.”

From Michael Crabb’s review of Innovations, appropriately titled “Bent Into Shape.”

First time at the ballet?

Ricardo Bustamante, ballet master from the SF Ballet, offers a few tips for people seeing their first ballet performance.  “Anyone can go to a ballet performance without knowing much about it.”

Video: Canada’s pregnant ballerinas

Next month’s Canadian Family Magazine features a story on The National Ballet of Canada’s three pregnant (at the time) ballerinas.  A ballerina is one of the only jobs where a maternity leave comes before the baby, not after.  Click through for a behind-the-scene video of the photo shoot.

Nehemiah Kish now dances in Denmark

I used to run in to Nehemiah Kish at certain downtown Toronto Lululemon stores.  He was always quick to give advice on what ballets to see and classes to take.   Those days are over,  since it’s official: Nehemiah Kish has left the National Ballet of Canada to become a principal for the Royal Danish Ballet.  We’ll miss you Nehemiah!

This month, Toronto ballet goers were treated to a world premiere, lectures by experts, a ballet competition and a 2-week classical finale.  A highlight of this lineup was Clement Crisp’s lecture on the dire state of ballet companies, worldwide.  A shortage of classical choreographers combined with timid company management has led to repetitive repertoires and an overall lack of risk.  Adventurousness is the only way to ensure a future for a national company.  This month, the National Ballet of Canada demonstrated how to execute risk and adventure while still moving forward with the best parts of history.

March began with Innovations, a world premiere, mixed program.  Three separate ballets were debuted, each done by a Canadian choreographer and each set to a brand new score.  Peter Quantz’s In Colour demonstrated what he’s known for: academic technique, updated choreography and a command of the corps.  The dancing was staccato and rigorous and the pas de duex was perfectly linear.

After a quick intermission,  Crystal Pyte’s Emergence began and in an instant, stole the show.  Inspired by the social construct of insects,  watching this ballet was like being witness to an aggressive, life-sized swarm of hornets.  Almost 40 dancers were on stage at once, dressed in insect-inspired costumes, and moving in large, tightly packed groups.  Unlike in classical ballet, there was so much elbow and knee action, that I found myself waiting for a dancer to get smacked in the face.  But the precision was dazzling.  The finale of changements - I counted over 20 - was a relentless finish to a wild half hour.

Sabrina Matthews’ ballet closed the night with the Toronto Mendelssohn choir singing on stage.  It was a neat idea but distracted from the five pairs of dancers on stage, tangled in a continuous routine of lifting and flipping.  In any case,  the critics have been kissing the floor this ballet walks on, affirming that together, or seperately these three works provided a much-needed vision that many mixed programs have not been able to provide.  Put simply, Innovations was, innovative.

Romeo and Juliet closed the month of March, with a 12-day run.  I’ve seen this ballet a few times and wasn’t bracing myself for surprises.  Everyone knows the famous plot line, right down to the wretched ending.  The Prokofiev score has practically become the anthem for Shakespearean love gone wrong.  The choreography is classical (and thus predictable) and set against the ever faithful dark-and-stormy-castle set.  So why bother?

The story of Romeo and Juliet, may lack newness, but as a ballet, it certainly delivers grandiose story-telling.  A group of dancers know how to tell a story using only their arms and legs, which is captivating.  Then they’re dressed in costumes so lavish and set on a stage so extravagant that when it all combines for the first time in Act 1, there are audible gasps from the audience.  In the context of ballet, Romeo and Juliet is not an original work.  But in the context of our every day lives, the visual unfolding is somewhat unimaginable.  And so it’s the unique telling of an old story, as a ballet, that is still entertaining and thus, valuable.

When I saw Innovations, I sat behind an man no less than 80 years old, dressed in a suit and bow tie.  At the intermission another bow-tied fellow wandered over to him and asked what he thought of the new program.  The man in front of me said, “There isn’t a redeeming quality about it!  I like the classics.  I’ll be much happier when I’m watching Romeo and Juliet.”  That’s a fair assessment, though it is worth considering that when Romeo and Juliet was first commissioned by the Kirov, in 1940, it was immediately denied by the communist Russian government.  The ending had to be made happier and the ominous music of Prokofiev was too radical.  Without changes to these elements, the government insisted that the ballet was miserable and wholly unsuitable for the public (leave it to the communists to know).

Over 70 years since its controversial, small-scale debut, Romeo and Juliet has become the quintessential story ballet, with characters we know, music we recognize and an ending we understand, however tragic.  Innovations, by contrast, finds itself where Romeo and Juliet started decades ago: applauded by the critics (daring!), hated by some of the public (too weird!), and approached with caution overall (Canada has choreographers?!).  But, providing that the original work is truly well done, time eventually quiets the critics and warms the public.  I predict that Innovations will eventually find itself amongst the well-loved classics, with only its program title reminding us that it was once cutting edge.

Before every performance at the Four Seasons Center, the National Ballet of Canada hosts a short lecture on the ballet about to be shown.  Sometimes the speaker is a historian, sometimes a costume designer or, if you’re lucky, a dancer from the company.   The idea is brilliant.  At once, new comers are put at ease by learning some basic cues and context while ballet veterans are able to bolster their trivia and insight.

Last week’s Ballet Talk was monumental.  Preceding the dazzling world premiere of Innovations, Clement Crisp, the “dean of the critics,” flew from his post at the Financial Times to talk about the performance and the overall state of ballet.  His attendance was something to mark on the once-in-a lifetime-opportunity list.  I got there 40 minutes early and secured a front row seat.

Clement Crisp does not disappoint.  His knowledge is encyclopedic, where nothing stumps him and everything can be elaborated upon.  As the Financial Times ballet critic for the past 35 years, his ability to recall dancers and scores from over four decades is uncanny.  And though that upper crust accent seems like a total parody, it serves to offset his unmerciful honesty.  Describing a company’s ballet as “quite simply total rubbish” doesn’t seem so insulting when said in king’s English.

Clement’s outlook on today’s classical ballet companies is grim though he offers clear prescriptions.  After the talk, I spoke with him further not only about the future of classical ballet, but the future of the ballet critic.  Upon hearing of this site, he remarked, “Oh hooray! Hooray!  Push on my dear!  The young ones will save ballet!”

If you haven’t read anything written by Clement, I suggest you do so.  It doesn’t matter if you like, or know anything of ballet.  His writing is clear, hilarious and indisputably informed, making for a very entertaining read.  A good place to start would be his very kind review of the National Ballet of Canada’s, Innovation, in yesterday’s Financial Times.

As per usual, I sat in the front row, taking notes and quotes.  Mega fans, read on:

• The National Ballet of Canada is the first company in the world to ever feature entirely new work, by local choreographers, all set to new scores.  Coming from London, Crisp insisted this was “something worth flying the Atlantic for.”

• Ballet is rife with snobbery that prevents broad attendance and the sharing of opinions
• Clement Crisp’s advice: you cannot be wrong with art.  “If you come to the ballet and you love it, hoorah.  If you don’t love it hoorah too.”
• As Merce Cunningham once said, “Right you are if you think you are.”

• Clement compares the new, nervous ballet goer with his love for hip-hop dance:  “Hip hop is my absolute favourite right now.  It is the most beautiful thing in the world!  What do I know about hip hop?  Nothing.  What do I know about 15-year old kids?  Nothing!  But I see it and I love it.”
• The 2-Minute Rule: If a ballet isn’t exciting to you within the first 2 minutes, forget it.  You don’t need to know all the rules of ballet to have an opinion.  You either love it or you don’t.

• But it’s very hard to excite when the same ballets are done over and over, as “deja-vu programming.”
• The Royal Ballet is currently doing 18 straight nights of Swan Lake.  “What an utter bore!  Yes, yes, Swan Lake is a masterpiece but everyone has seen it!  And, as a side, those ballerinas actually able to dance Swan Lake, these days, are benumbered on the fingers of one hand.”
• Ballet is not a museum art.  It must keep moving on with new things.  Failure to recognize this will kill ballet attendance over the next 50 years.
• Currently the Soviet ballet companies are trapped by tradition and unable to produce new work due to a restrictive regime and lack of resources.  This will destroy the Russian ballet tradition, unless new choreography is  created.

• The trick for a ballet company is to get new people to go, not tell them what to think.
• How to get more people to go: keep a small selection of the old, story ballets, like Swan Lake and Giselle, but keep adding new works, each year.  The new works should be classical, not all post-modern!
• How to produce a pipeline of new works: encourage young kids in ballet schools to start thinking about choreography and classical music, not just the execution of dance steps
• “If hip hop kids - kids! - can create what they’re doing, unguided, then kids in a ballet school should be able to do that too, with half a push.”

• There are 3 problems with creating new work:
• (1) Too much is post-modern ballet.  To learn these new ballets, dancers risk destroying their classical frame, the basis of the entire art
• (2) There is a global shortage of classical, academic ballet choreographers
• (3) Company management is too fearful of new ballets and how these will be sold to an audience

• A new ballet doesn’t reveal itself right away.  See it more than once and your appreciation is guaranteed to increase with each time.

• “Ballet is the only art where not one stupid word is said all night…from the stage, that is.”