London City Ballet
The Joyce Theater
New York, New York
September 17, 2024
Larina Waltz, Consolations and Liebestraum, Five Dances, Eve
Jerry Hochman
London City Ballet returned to the Joyce Theater this week, with a program consisting of four dances. I attended the opening night performance.
One wouldn’t necessarily expect sunshine to emanate from a dance company venued in London (where, at least based on my visits, it’s far more cloudy than sunny), but here they were, and there it was. While the program presented by London City Ballet (“LCB”) wasn’t entirely successful, the company’s existence alone is cause for celebration – not just because it’s been reborn (as I’ll explain below), but because its dancers are as good as they are.
These dancers are the product of an extensive multi-national search that ultimately yielded a small company of dancers highly diversified by nationality, training, and experience. [I’ll reference certain dancers’ nationalities and/or experience during the course of this review.] The quality is not just provided by the ballerinas, which one might expect, but also by the company’s male contingent, which is unexpectedly strong. They all may be a little rough around the edges at times, but that’s to be expected from a new/old company in its New York debut performance. Christopher Marney, the company’s Artistic Director, merits considerable respect for the company he’s curated. The entire group of dancers did LCB’s heritage proud.
Cira Robinson in Christoopher Marney’s “Eve”
Photo by ASH
That heritage is the subject of film “introductions” (primarily an assemblage of vintage photos) that preceded and followed the program’s initial dance. While it’s true, as the Joyce publicity heralds, that this appearance marks the first LCB tour in over 30 years, until 2023 it hadn’t been anywhere for nearly 30 years. The original London City Ballet, apparently a much-beloved London dance institution that had been the resident company of Sadler’s Wells and the benefit of Princess Diana as its royal patron, ceased operations nearly 30 years ago, in 1996, a consequence of inadequate financial support.
LCB was resuscitated last year as a touring company by Marney (presumably now with sufficient financial backing) with a mission, per the company’s web site, “to present newly commissioned work by upcoming, plus established, Choreographers, as well as an emphasis on resurrecting older works that may no longer be in the mainstream repertoire…. We strive to present engaging and entertaining works whilst ensuring the history which came before us is not forgotten.” Sound familiar? It’s very similar to the outlook, at least in years past (I haven’t been able to see it recently) of New York Theatre Ballet. If LCB succeeds as well as those performances of NYTB that I’ve attended, and maintains the level of talent it now has, it will be a cherished company for a long time to come.
LCB’s Joyce program focuses more on contemporary choreographers than on past overlooked dances, but it’s the latter, represented by a piece choreographed by the late Liam Scarlett, that proved most compelling. I’ll address that one first, then the three other dances on the program.
Isadora Bless and Nicholas Mihlar
in Ashley Page’s “Larina Waltz”
Photo by Ash
Scarlett died on April 16, 2021, at age 35, apparently a consequence of a suicide attempt four days earlier. He was trained, and performed, at the Royal Ballet, and began creating ballets while he was still performing. His first choreographic work for the Royal Ballet’s mainstage was Asphodel Meadows (2010). It was a success, and he subsequently was named the Royal’s first “artist-in-residence,” creating a wealth of ballets for that company as well as for companies world-wide.
I happened to be visiting family in the Miami area a decade or so ago, saw that Miami City Ballet (where Edward Villella was then its Artistic Director) would be performing nearby, and jumped at the opportunity to see the company for the first time. Included on that program was Scarlett’s Viscera (to my recollection during its premiere season in 2012). To put it mildly, I was impressed – as my gushing subsequent review reflected. Since then I’ve had mixed impressions of his work based the two pieces he created for New York companies (Acheron in 2013 for New York City Ballet and With a Chance of Rain for American Ballet Theatre), but his choreographic ability, despite an apparent preoccupation with death and/or heterosexual relationships (Scarlett himself was gay), was never in question.
Scarlett’s death prompted an avalanche of commentary, both hand-wringing and fist-pounding, relating to alleged sexual impropriety that had resulted in his dismissal from the Royal (even though the allegations were found not to be supported), and the knee-jerk response by certain ballet companies that refused to present his ballets as a consequence of those same allegations. As an example, I vividly recall a passionate comment posted (I believe on Instagram) by Alexei Ratmansky mourning Scarlett’s premature death and the shame of the circumstances – the ballet world’s response to the unsupported allegations made against him – that may have led to it).
London City Ballet in Christopher Marney’s “Eve”
Photo by ASH
To my understanding this situation continues, with some companies still refusing to perform Scarlett’s dances. So LCB’s decision to present a Scarlett-choreographed piece is as much a statement as it is an effort to revive a long-forgotten ballet.
Scarlett’s Consolations and Liebestraum premiered in 2009 (before Asphodel Meadows, so presumably not on the Royal’s mainstage). It consists of a set of “relationship dances” involving heterosexual couples. In its simplicity as to the nature of the relationships it’s not much different from other relationship dances. But in its choreographic complexity it’s quite extraordinary, including partnering combinations that I can’t remember ever seeing previously. Most importantly, I think – and as the program note emphasizes – it’s “seminal to later work by Scarlett which audiences embraced worldwide.” [I’m not so sure that audiences worldwide embraced them all, but it certainly presages Scarlett’s later choreographic explorations of heterosexual relationships (as demonstrated, for example, in With a Chance of Rain).]
Choreographed to Franz Liszt’s eponymous composition, Consolations and Liebestraum [“Liebestraum” translates as “Love Dreams” or “Dreams of Love.”], presented here with exquisitely sensitive live piano accompaniment by Luc Xu Cheng, is divided into five parts: a Solo (performed by Ellie Young), Pas de Deux 1 (by Barbara Verdasco and Arthur Wille), Pas de Deux 2 (by Isadora Bless and Joseph Taylor), Quartet (Bless, Taylor, Verdasco, and Wille), and Pas de Deux 3 (Young and Alejandro Virelles).
While this structure itself tickles one’s intellect, especially in view of the usual banality of “relationship dances,” it’s the choreography that’s most compelling. And that it at times is remindful of Jerome Robbins’s In the Night (while being visually and choreographically distinctive from that masterwork) is high praise.
Ellie Young and Alejandro Virelles
in Liam Scarlett’s
“Consolations and Liebestraum”
Photo by Steven Pisano
In very brief, and very broad, summary, one dancer (Young) is first seen alone and, apparently, lonely (or “dreaming of love”). In the first of the subsequent pas de deux, the couple appears to be in a nascent relationship, filled with both curiosity and caution. In the second, the pair are in a more complex relationship in which the ballerina bounces between giving up and yielding to the continuing passion, ultimately yielding to the latter. The quartet visually combines the two couples and expands on earlier themes. In the third pas de deux, Young and a partner (Virelles) attempt a relationship, but Young is not convinced, and pushes Virelles away, leaving Young alone – as she was at the dance’s outset, and apparently still dreaming of love.
Young’s character is an enigma. As in most other failed relationship dances, the audience doesn’t know why the relationship doesn’t work out, only that it doesn’t. But the choreographic circumstances here – the bookended imagery; the seeming devastation of Young’s character based on a situation she created by directing her potential love partner to leave – are arresting. Young’s portrayal is enhanced by her considerable theatrical experience (as indicated in the program), which imbues her character with an unusual cerebral bent.
The initial couple, Verdasco and Wille, evoke a relatively typical immature but presumably, growing relationship, with Verdasco (born in Madrid) exhibiting an interesting (and appropriate here) combination of ardor and uncertainty.
But it’s the second couple’s relationship (Bless and Taylor) that’s the most complex. They’re together, then they’re not; she rejects him, then can’t resist him…. These qualities have been present in other relationship dances, but here it’s believable, primarily because of Bless’s capsule credibility.
And this second pas de deux includes the most startling choreography. At one point, Bless, in somewhat muted ecstasy, is lifted overhead by Taylor, and then, on the way down, slowly falls within Taylor’s arms (as opposed to one side or the other), reflecting an apparent effort to be released from entrapment. To my eye this was the visual equivalent of untying a human knot, combined with a sense of danger that might justify an appearance on the television “reality” program “America’s Got Talent.” It also was the only time in the program in which Bless (a native of Richmond, VA), luminescent elsewhere in this dance and in the program as a whole, momentarily, and obviously, focuses solely on what she needs to do to avoid falling eight or so feet to the stage floor. [It couldn’t have worked without Taylor’s partnering (who, according to the program, was a premier dancer at the UK’s Northern Ballet), but I couldn’t see the nuts and bolts of that as clearly.] Scarlett has them execute the same lift/ fall twice (and maybe a third time – my notes aren’t clear), which may be overdoing it, but it didn’t look any less challenging on repetition.
It’s one thing to explore relationship emotional variables, and another to do so with the level of choreographic mastery demonstrated here (even given tendencies toward excess), especially considering that Scarlett couldn’t have been much past 20 years old when the piece was choreographed.
So if LCB’s program had nothing else going for it, its rescue of Consolations and Liebestraum from obscurity would have been enough. But the dance that followed it, Arielle Smith’s Five Dances, proved a worthy introduction to the choreographer.
Smith has garnered a considerable reputation across the pond in a relatively short time, and has already won an Olivier Award for Outstanding Achievement in Dance. According to the program biography, she’s been named to at least two “ones to watch” lists, and recently choreographed Carmen for San Francisco Ballet. This was my first exposure to her work.
Isadora Bless and Joseph Taylor in Arielle Smith’s “Five Dances”
Photo by Steven Pisano
While Five Dances doesn’t share the complexity of Scarlett’s piece, it’s a very fine dance exquisitely presented, and one that provides the viewer not only with an accomplished piece of choreography, but an “experience”: a Mardi Gras of pure dance that’s both exciting to watch and visually intoxicating (much of which can be credited to the somewhat quirky but breezy and colorful costumes, designed by Emily Noble).
Choreographed to John Adams’s “John’s Book of Alleged Dances,” the five distinct dances are divided among six company dancers: as listed in the program (and to my recollection in order of appearance) they were Alvaro Madrigal, Wille, Verdasco, Jimin Kim, Taylor, and Bless. By far the most exciting choreography was a solo assigned to Wille (Dance 3), who repeatedly, and powerfully, flew across the stage as if shot from a cannon. A first place YAGP contestant (the program doesn’t indicate the year or the location), this Brazilian native dominated the dances in which he appeared. But I couldn’t find fault with any of the men – or the women, for that matter. Jimin Kim, born in South Korea and a winner of a YAGP Gold Medal in its Senior Division, was particularly crystalline in her execution.
Arthur Wille in Arielle Smith’s “Five Dances”
Photo by ASH
Kim displayed the same qualities in the evening’s opening piece, Larina Waltz, a ballet choreographed in 1993 by Ashley Page to Tchaikovsky’s “Larina Waltz” (from the opera Eugene Onegin). While emphatically a ballet (tutus, pointe shoes), the dance is dynamic, with fine examples of cross-currents and opportunities for individual dancers to shine. It was an appropriate opening piece that introduced most of the company (five pairs of dancers) but at the same time left the audience begging for more. The dancers (Miranda Silveira and Madrigal, Kim and Nicholas Mihlar, Young and Wille, Bless and Nicholas Vavrecka, and Verdasco and Virelles) lent the dance a sense of nervous energy that made the piece more exciting to watch than it might otherwise be. Silveira, another native of Brazil, displayed eloquent execution combined with an abundance of spirit.
Miranda Silveira and Alvaro Madrigal
in Ashley Page’s “Larina Waltz”
Photo by ASH
All these dances are relatively brief, and all preceded Intermission. Thereafter, the sole dance presented was Eve, choreographed in 2022 by Marney to music by Jennie Muskett MBE. The piece featured Cira Robinson, another U.S. native and veteran of Dance Theater of Harlem, Ballet Black, and Scottish Ballet, who played the title role, and Madrigal as the Serpent.
The dance reportedly tells the Adam and Eve story from Eve’s point of view, but I didn’t so much see Eve’s point of view as the piece being Eve-centric.
Eve first appears somewhat dazed and bereft of anything resembling a character’s character, gazing, alone, out at a barren landscape. The program note states “She has no mother, no siblings, no village.” She also has no companion – Adam is nowhere to be seen. She’s just … there. [It’s certainly possible that Marney intended this emptiness to be a reflection of Eve’s sudden “birth” (from her point of view), but that’s a difficult intellectual leap to make.]
Soon, still looking vacant, Eve is approached by the Serpent. These initial scenes feature impressive shadow imagery (a la Pilobolus’s Shadowplay), which highlight the dominating Serpent in contrast to the miniscule-looking shadow of Eve, but they don’t last very long.
Cira Robinson and Alvaro Madrigal
in Christopher Marney’s “Eve”
Photo by ASH
Eventually, a tree appears (in shadow) out of the nothingness, and the Serpent, vividly portrayed by Madrigal (and in stark contrast to the Eve-character’s banality) produces “The Apple.” Eve bites into it, at which point the Serpent whirls her around with the apple still stuck in her teeth, I suppose as a visual metaphor for the sudden, dizzying acquisition of “knowledge” (emotional and otherwise) that the apple provides. But Eve’s affect doesn’t register any change – even after she loses the apple.
Without more, this first segment of the dance is curious and certainly unusual, but not much more – and Robinson (or whoever else portrays Eve) might want to sue for breach of promised character.
Cira Robinson, Alvaro Madrigal, and London City Ballet
in Christopher Marney’s “Eve”
Photo by ASH
Suddenly the tempo of the music increases, and Eve (and, as I recall, the Serpent, who hasn’t slithered away) is joined by a variety of ersatz Adams and Eves (as the characters are collectively identified), with the women costumed in nude-looking leotards and the men shirtless over similarly tinged shorts, who proceed to jump, hop, and dance fervently around the stage like hyperactive puppies. [Maybe Eden’s other occupants (Eden had other occupants?) are considered Adams and Eves from Eve’s point of view.] Regardless, these characters seem to know more about what’s happening than Eve does – Eve still looks clueless.
Whatever, it seems that eventually Eve and her Adam [did she select him? If so I missed it] are paired and lifted (independently) high above the terra firma (atop two layers of Adams and Eves), and, backs to the audience, carried/ escorted into the sunset. Or is it the sunrise?
I suspect that what’s intended here is to show Adam and Eve’s expulsion from Eden, but (maybe from Eve’s point of view) it looks like they were carried off, very slowly and carefully, to live happily ever after.
I’m at a loss, obviously, to figure out what Marney is getting at here. Whatever it is, there’s minimal dance (mostly by those Adams and Eves) or character complexity (except for the Serpent), and, until the concluding procession, Eve seems constantly to be an empty vessel that never gets filled. If this was a story told from Eve’s point of view, it doesn’t say much about Eve. Maybe something essential to Eve was lost in the cross-Atlantic translation.
While Eve left me cold and uninvolved, the other dances on the program made up for it, and showed the company to advantage. I look forward to London City Ballet’s return, perhaps with a more compelling, and comprehensible, concluding piece. In the interim, the company’s engagement continues through September 22nd; the opportunity to see this resurrected company, and Scarlett’s resurrected ballet, is well-worth a visit.
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