Choreographer's Diary
by Leigh Witchel
Day 21 - August 25, 1999
22 days until the performance.
Another adrenaline day.
I begin by setting a dance for Adriana and Frances, which moves
quickly because it's the exact same duet Adriana does with Morgan
(material we made on the first day of rehearsal), only danced
to the rear of the stage. What I find pleasantly surprising is
it happens to be a dance with a very interesting "back"
as well as "front". I then make the final moments of
the ballet, which end up being quite simple, a walk, pose, and
balancés en tournant off. I add to this a brief postlude
with Frances in silence restating just a moment of the beginning,
but I have to discuss with Jeff how to make it clear that the
ballet isn't over until that point. I'd rather not annoy the
audience at the end by making them feel that they'd been tricked.
We run the ballet twice
through, once for sequence and to solve small problems. I take
out Adriana's pas couru because she is no longer doing it with
Mary. We make an ending for Morgan and Abraham's pas de deux
and we run the ballet a second time to make a notebook video
and so Jeff and David can look at it for designs (Matt is in
Berlin and will have to make do with the video.)
The ballet is actually
completed, and I get to watch it. I'm mildly stunned, but I like
it. I was worried about the ballet conceptually, but I can now
see its concept. More importantly for the audience, it's interesting
as a
dance, and that I hadn't seen before and it pleases me. We'll
need to do a lot of cleaning and polishing. I'm sure I'll tinker
with parts. But it's done. They're all done.
Chuck comes for rehearsal
and we start by discussing the mime. He asks, almost sheepishly,
but also almost immediately, if we could just put some simple
dance steps in instead of acting. "What is this? NYCB's
Swan Lake?" I snap at him, mock-sternly. I'm joking,
though I am just a little disappointed, but only on a philosophical
level. Another battle lost for mime, alas. But Chuck is right.
He doesn't look comfortable with it, the solo is meant to show
him off and I didn't put the mime in to strengthen a concept,
but primarily to give him a rest. What concept I had (a youthful
lover) I wasn't pleased with, and I had been steadily paring
all traces of it out. And frankly, the two years at NYCB had
made Chuck into a dancer who looked best dancing, not acting.
When you buy a lobster at the market, you don't complain that
it's not filet mignon.
A few gestures are still
left in, but the rest of the mime is taken out in favor of arabesques
and other steps towards the "balcony." It's the same
feeling, but in abstraction, and he looks much better in it.
Chuck tries to run the ballet through, but collapses in an exhausted
heap after three minutes with three and a half still to go. He
apologizes, panting. "I know it's possible. But just not
today. Boy, I'm going to be in great shape when we're done with
this." He says between pants. So the rest of the rehearsals
will be about building up the stamina to get through a 6:47 section,
which in ballet is the equivalent of running a marathon. I'm
watching for telltale steps, the ones that will show Chuck as
being tired. Chuck can turn even after six minutes, it's grand
jetes and other jumps that betray his exhaustion, and as we go
on if they are still a problem, I'll substitute steps that camouflage
that.
Tonight, David comes
over to show me sketches for Chuck's solo and Scherzo.
He says that Armature has him stumped, so I rummage through
the magazines I
have at work, and come across a picture of the women in Symphonic
Variations. "Oh! Now I know what you mean by 'classical'"
he says happily. With only a cursory glance at the tiny photo,
he sketches out how he thinks the Fedorovich costume was constructed,
and we discuss the finer distinctions between "homage"
and "ripoff." But what scares me is that when I ask
him
what Abraham might wear, he immediately makes a quick sketch
and I start to laugh. Without ever having seen it, he's sketched
Michael Somes' costume from Symphonic Variations right
down to the wristlet, except he made it an armband. "You're
channeling Sophie Fedorovich." I warn him. But I think it
shows that classicism has a race memory that runs below the conscious
level. There's an entire maelstrom of influences besides the
obvious ones that went into the ballet. There's always Balanchine.
There's Forsythe in the musical choices, but I think that the
episodic structure is not as related in the primordial choreographic
soup in my brain to Artifact II as it is to The Disco
Project, a dance by Neil Greenberg, a modern choreographer
active at present in New York City, whose work I greatly admire.
The episodic structure of Armature probably germinated
there, and also the insistence upon calling attention to the
structure of the work within the work itself. Then running underneath
it all, there's the trip to see the Paris Opera Ballet and
the epochal visit of the Kirov. But even that fascination with
things classical has a substrain, there's Ashton, but not Ashton
as the works actually are, because I haven't seen enough of it.
There's a fantastic and
idealized Ashton in my brain that comes from having only seen
pictures of certain works and having to imagine what they might
have really been like. And none of this stops Armature from being
anyone's ballet but my own. Something similar will surely have
been said before, but one says what one needs to say at the right
time to say it.
Day 22