Ballet Theater of Chicago
Ballet Theater of Chicago is an appealing, full-blooded company unbound to the (fatal?) rigors of attempting to be a Balanchine satellite: using the New York City Ballet as a prototype is problematic. Balanchine himself recognized the transient nature of dance and had no specific plan for the concretization of his choreographic legacy; many New York dancegoers now question whether even the NYCB dances Balanchine properly. Dance Balanchine, yes, again and again. But don’t try to re-create what was essentially, inescapably, and only his: his company.
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The evening opened with the second act of perhaps the most famous of classical ballets, Swan Lake. Immediately we saw three clearly defined roles–VonRothbart, the evil sorcerer; Odette, the most beautiful of the swans; Sigfried, the torn prince–and three excellent dancers. The richness of one of the great forms of Western theater was manifest from the start, and it only got richer: more exquisite as dance, more captivating as story. One reason was the remarkable dancing of Meridith Benson, the company’s associate director and a principal dancer with the Joffrey. It’s puzzling that she’s not better known in national and international circles. Two other utterly different ballerinas resemble her in the way they enrapture an audience with their artistry: Sylvie Guillem, now with the Royal Ballet, and the NYCB’s incompar-able Kyra Nichols. A good production of Swan Lake is rare, and very much determined by the ballerina who plays Odette. The Royal Ballet has an excellent Swan Lake, and so does BTC.
BTC’s corps, who filled the stage with swans, were unified by their fine technique: though each swan was individually absorbed by her own dance, they moved in synchronicity, joined by their curse. They were cool and aloof, swans not women, beautiful and nervous. Lilla Makki stood out for her wonderful proportions and lissome interpretations, but the entire company exhibit an exquisite freedom in their use of the back that naturally extends to the expressive use of the neck and head and to open hips, affording lush jetes. The four Cygnets, with their much-parodied variation of intertwined arms and lateral jumps, did not disappoint. Their crisp epaulement was of a technical level rarely seen: they actually looked in the directions in which they turned their heads, when often dancers do little more than struggle through the rapid changes of shape. Seventeen-year-old Sean Stewart as VonRothbart is an unlikely dancer, still with some baby fat and in the throes of adolescence. But his technique is whistle-clean, and he performs with the innocent confidence of youth. His effortless amplitude in turning jumps is simple factuality, presence not pretense. He’ll grow into the evil the role requires.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): Jennifer Girard.
