From the Archives: Balanchine in Montreal

Calling all balletomanes, historians, Ph.D. candidates, sociologists, audience members, and just about everyone else interested in dance. Do you want to see Diana Adams, Allegra Kent, Violette Verdy, Jillana, Maria Tallchief, Tanaquil LeClercq, Andre Eglevsky, Suki Schorer, Patricia Neary, Carol Sumner, Todd Bolender, Arthur Mitchell, Francisco Moncion, Nicholas Magallanes and Jacques d'Amboise again in the intimate surrounding of your living room? No, this not a joke, but the first of many VAI DVD releases from Montreal's Radio-Canada archive, encompassing a televised history of Balanchine's many works from 1954 well into the 1970s.

If the picture is sometimes murky, the focus unsteady, the dance environment somewhat cramped, does anyone really care? You are up close and personal to the dancers. Yes, heads and feet are sometimes lopped off, but even with all these shortcomings, what emotions they evoke! People always complain that they feel removed from the dance when they are in the theatre. This won't be the case here.

Suzanne Farrell said in an interview that she didn't miss the dancing of the performers, rather the great personalities. When you watch this video, you'll know exactly what she meant and the shortcomings of many New York City Ballet dancers today. (Notice I didn't say all.)

When watching this DVD I was moved by the depth of feeling, the intensity, even the humanity that these dancers brought to their roles. While they may not be the streamlined dancers of today, they have that grit and tobacco chewing gumption that is so sorely missing on our stages today. As we have read and heard repeatedly, Balanchine didn't want his dancers to think. But reflect on this again. He wanted them to bring their own insights, their visions and passions to their roles. And perhaps that is something that can't be taught or conveyed by the choreographer. As Gypsy's Mama Rose sang, "You either got it, or you ain't." And boys, these dancers really had it.

It is only fitting that the series opens with Serenade, the first ballet that Balanchine choreographed in the United States. Serenade evolved through the years to what is now, I believe, the definitive version. In 1957, things were still changing, with one big exception. An entry into a world that is hard to define, yet, at the end, easy to know. What is it about-something, that's for sure. We are introduced to three women, the Waltz Ballerina, the Russian Ballerina Girl and the Angel. Balanchine never gave theses dancers' names-I believe audience members just introduced them as a way of differentiating among the three. But, the truth of the matter is that they are nameless. Not illusions, not dreams, real people that can only be captured and ignited in our minds. That is what has proved so fascinating about Serenade. It can be about anything you want it to be. The dancing and the symbols evoked are unclear, inherently felt on some subconscious level. If you want, it can be about a banana.

The cast is led by Diana Adams as the Waltz Ballerina, Patricia Wilde as the Russian Ballerina, and Yvonne Mounsey as the Angel. Adams projects vulnerability, coupled with an earthy sensibility that was her trademark. If she does not give herself up to a true romantic ideal, she still is a dancer with taste and individuality. And, in one of the ballet's most famous sequences, she does not let her hair down, literally. When you see Serenade today the Waltz Ballerina falls and loosens her hair, letting it cascade down her face and back. Not here. Patricia Wilde, THE technician of the 1950s eats space and never seems to tire. I can only wonder what an audience's response to this was at a live performance. Had they put a flying harness on her, she could have soared higher than Mary Martin in Peter Pan. Yvonne Mounsey, in what is, I believe, her only televised appearance, is arresting and quite a revelation. Why didn't Balanchine use her more often? Tall, sensuous, with a prodigious technique, she doesn't only lead a male dancer with her hands covering his face, she engulfs him. It's an interesting interpretation and, after watching it, I am sorry that Mounsey's Prodigal Son siren was never captured on film. She must have been one hell of a seducer.

The cast is rounded off by Herbert Bliss and Jacques d'Amboise as the ballet's two men. While not as important or as challenging as the women, they provide good support. The women need not worry if they fall. Balanchine took an interest in d'Amboise's career and created a number of roles for him, but they never equaled those of his female dancers. All combined, it's a terrific look back into the New York City Ballet's past.

Orpheus, presented here in a 1960 televised broadcast, was choreographed in 1948 to a commissioned score by Stravinsky. Less flashy and devoid of those shifting patterns and images that quickly pass us by in Serenade, this ballet is serene, meditative, almost reflective. But here's the catch. Sadly, what was once an iconic ballet becomes a dull history lesson. I say this not because it might trouble a great many people who have been moved by it over the years, but for the simple reason that, by 2015 standards, it seems undeniably leaden. I asked my friends to look at the DVD, and they all had the same reaction.

I am sure that this was exactly Balanchine and Stravinsky's intention: slow, contemplative, like the quiet waves of an undulating river. Surely the ballet had two outstanding actor-dancers: Nicholas Magallanes as Orpheus and Francisco Moncion as the Dark Angel. Not technicians, they were highly theatrical presences, both dark, handsome and noble. Violette Verdy as Eurydice and Judith Green as the Leader of the Bacchantes have more of a chance to display their virtuosity, but I felt as if the ignition key refused to move. Is it me?

I watched Orpheus five times over a weekend and still came away with the same feeling. It's like getting a dose of ballet history medicine. But then I ask myself, is it as easy as all that? Perhaps one had to be there to savor the dark and intimate aesthetic of the dance. I once had a conversation with Melissa Hayden who complained that present day NYC Ballet dancers-this was 1997, I believe-did not know how to perform Orpheus. It just went over their heads. Watching this1960 version, I am not sure if it went not only over my head, but my heart as well. Is this my 21st century view? Is it possible that a ballet that once symbolized a great ballet company has become a murmur, whereas Serenade is still vital today. It's hard to say. I'll leave it up to the viewer to decide.

Cover Photo by Henri Cartier-Bresson. Magnum Photos