|
Brought to
you by

the New
York manufacturer of fine dance apparel for women and girls. Click
here to see a sample of our products and a list of web sites
for purchasing.
With Body Wrappers it's always performance
at its best.
Go back to Flash Reviews
Go
Home
Flash Review, 5-19: Parsons's
'Piper' Packs a Peck of Pirouettes
....But Even the Rats Can Only Watch So Much Spinning
By Susan Yung
Copyright 2001 Susan Yung
ABT premiered David Parsons'
"The Pied Piper" to a buzzing audience Friday night at the Metropolitan
Opera House. In a sense, it was a no win game because of the massive
advance publicity, each subsequent feature ratcheting up the public's
expectations. It may have taken nothing less than a masterpiece
to live up to the hype. And, perhaps inevitably because of this,
a masterpiece was not delivered. What we did receive was a high-energy
showcase: for a bravura male spinner, in this case Angel Corella,
and for a glimpse of what theater design in the future will look
like.
The work was set to John
Corigliano's anxious orchestration, written in 1981 and lengthened
here. It was guided by strings and an impetuous flute, which would
be the voice of the Pied Piper. The piece began enticingly enough,
with the string section nervously awaiting the passage of the moon,
the arrival of the stars, and the introduction of the Pied Piper
(Angel Corella) who was hidden beneath the cloak of his mentor (Victor
Barbee), whose quick passing demanded that the Piper step into his
shoes. The new town bewitcher dazzles the folk with his whirlwind
antics. He fights mighty battles with giant rats (cleverly designed
shrouds, by costumer Ann Hould-Ward, borne lengthwise by outstretched
arms), beating them on their rubber heads with his flute, and banishing
a herd of mice on wands transforming them into waving wheat. Corella
was at times accompanied by the third incarnation of the Piper,
performed by Chase Finlay.
Regardless of how game
he was to rumble, the main weapon in his arsenal was clearly the
pirouette. In passe, in second, in attitude, in the air, you name
it. For certain, Corella is a phenomenal dancer, veritably launching
from a standstill into a tour, and with superhuman energy, but after
a couple of five rotation turns, the next dozen are merely expected.
After a while, even the rats seem indifferent to his spinning. After
he finally gained control of his maniacal energy, and thus his powers,
he performed one subdued solo which allowed some nuances of his
talents to mercifully emerge.
Parsons balanced traditional
ballet vocabulary with his lyrical, athletic modern style favoring
leaps in fourth position and attitude turns, but with a reliance
on busywork.
Dance-wise, not much
was given to the rest of the cast, of which the adults were trapped
inside layers and layers of accreted materials in costumes that
could've been seen from the space shuttle. They were certainly dramatic
enough, but seemed more suitable to strictly character roles instead
of featured dancing roles (I refer to Brian Reeder as the Mayor,
Jennifer Alexander as the Mayor's Wife, and Clinton Luckett as the
Councilman, plus 15 additional dancers) -- more Met Opera than ABT,
and not at all appropriate for these trained athlete/artists. The
children fared better, in prisoner garb, but were assigned just
skipping and chassees, and of course shadowing the Piper around
and around the stage.
The digitally produced
backdrop, by Michaela Zabranska and Misha Films, was perhaps "The
Pied Piper"'s most significant contribution. At first glance, it
looked like a traditional painted opera house backdrop. Only after
the imagery began to move, then swiftly faded into a totally different
image, did I fully understand the potential, which is limited perhaps
only by imagination. We saw a fireworks show, a Chagall-esque village
being built, and children flying off to a better place (well, to
literally become stars, anyway). Traditional painted flats supplemented
the digital effects.
Also on the program was
Act II of "La Bayadere." The simple corps entrance, an enchainment
repeating an arabesque phrase, never fails to hypnotize, and the
dancers showed their strong, clean technique throughout the corps
work. Ethan Stiefel matched his pyrotechnical leaps and turns with
a knack for continuing a move past its allotted music, drawing ever
more from the phrase, and giving it to the audience. Ashley Tuttle
seemed listless and somewhat ponderous in a circle of tours jetes,
but was partnered elegantly by Stiefel.
Go
back to Flash Reviews
Go Home
|