All The Colours

Saturday, I went to an evening of mixed dance presented by The National Ballet. It started with the classical Allegro Brillante (Balanchine) and ended with the modern Chroma (McGregor). Allegro is described as "ballet distilled" with Balanchine showcasing classical ballet in a 15 min. piece set to Tchaikovsky's Third Piano Concerto. So everything was there: the corps choreographed movement, the pas de deux, the solos. It was all very pretty but I don't really enjoy watching these non-narrative classical performances; there's something antiseptic about them.

Carousel (Wheeldon) did a better job straddling the line. Because of the lushness of the score from the musical Carousel, it was easy to incorporate classical movements. But as it was set in 50s America with young lads in denim and ladies in poodle skirts, some "modern" whimsy enlivened the piece. For example, the male dancers spinning their partners like pinwheels, carrying them like merry-go-round horses, or engaging in a quick waltz. The pas the deux did not have the same immediacy as the groupwork and dragged on too long.

There was also some whimsy but mostly bleakness in The Man In Black (Kudelka). Set to 6 songs covered (not written) by Johnny Cash, it borrowed elements of Western and square dancing. 3 male dancers and 1 female, in jeans and cowboy boots, continually moved around the stage. Sometimes they clipped clopped like a stagecoach, at other times manipulating each others' limbs; there was even some "line dancing" for the last song. They formed tableaus and numerous configurations. It was modern but "accessible" and a bit winking, too.

Chroma (McGregor) is unabashedly modern. Set inside a brightly lit box, both the men and women wore identical unisex clothes, and danced furiously to music from the White Stripes and composer John Talbot. Reviews often comment on the extreme extensions such as penchée that go beyond 180 degrees. But for me, it was the various pas de deux and trois that impressed. When done well, such as the pairing of Evan McKie and Svetlana Lunkina, it was exhilirating: both precised and wildly abandoned.