Seasons change, but you know what doesn’t?
The Houston Ballet.
The immensely talented folks over there opened Four Seasons, their latest mixed repertory program (and final show of the season) last night with a murder’s row of choreographing geniuses, starting with George Balanchine.
The origin of Balanchine’s 1960 Tschaikovsky Pas de Deux dates back to 1877, when the Bolshoi ballerina dancing the role of Odette/Odile in Swan Lake was so dissatisfied with the choreography that she went to Marius Petipa to ask for a new Act 3 pas de deux for Odile and Siegfried. Petipa obliged, setting the new dance to music from Ludwig Minkus.
And you know who didn’t appreciate that? Swan Lake composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, who quickly devised his own music for Petipa’s new pas de deux, which he kindly made to match Petipa’s already conceived choreography.
Balanchine utilized this bit of music, which wasn’t included in Tchaikovsky’s score and essentially lost until 1953, to set his own dance, and it’s one of the purest examples of a pas de deux you’ll ever be blessed to see.
The man and woman, danced by Tyler Donatelli and Masanori Takiguchi, are not so much Odile and Siegfried as they are unnamed young lovers, their duet as romantic as the simple costumes – originally designed by frequent Balanchine collaborator Madame Karinska – and as bright as the sky-blue backdrop sunnily lit by Christina R. Giannelli.
Donatelli and Takiguchi partner beautifully, coming together for effortless lifts and picture-perfect poses, including one as Tchaikovsky’s music builds to it’s first crescendo, which culminates in a plunging fish dive punctuated by a playfully coy (and amusingly smug) head tilt from Donatelli. The two eventually trade off for a couple of “show me what you got” variations, giving ample opportunity for both to preen for the audience, Donatelli with quick flicks and bouncy bats of her feet and Takiguchi with swift, wide-stretching leaps around the stage – not to mention dozens of turns between the two of them. Their lovely duet is brief, approximately eight minutes, but it’s a fleeting beauty not to be missed.
Following a short pause, the program continues with Disha Zhang’s Elapse and let me tell you, it’s just as elusive and haunting as it was five years ago when it made its world premiere right here in Houston. The 2019 work marked Zhang’s first time choreographing for an American company, and while it may be worlds away from Balanchine, it’s modern vocabulary and abstraction only further stress the talents of a company that can so successfully pull off both.
The piece opens with the sound of a tree falling, crashing down (i.e. quite possibly the answer to the question of what you’d hear if a tree falls in a forest when no one is around), but it could just as easily be something breaking free. On the dark, fog-tinged stage, dancers enter, some to slide across the length of the floor on their backs, others seemingly writhing in slow motion. They are clothed by Zhang in oversized office wear and shapeless dresses with antler-like headwear that sprouts branches sitting atop their heads.
Through a series of repeated gestures, the 16 dancers stretch, lean, and jerk about in sharp, precise moves that are at times synchronized and at other times purposefully opposed. Zhang’s choreography is set to a nature-based soundscape that plays off an electronic beat and the strings of Zeng Xiaogang’s guqin (a thousands-year-old zither), and is altogether unique, with one particular moment in which a dancer is repeatedly carried across the stage as if she’s helpless to ride the waves of an angry sea especially breathtaking.
Elapse is, interestingly, accompanied by a poem titled “Elapse (In Meaning of Time Passing)” and, like time, proffers an almost eerie sense of inevitability. It’s earthy, achingly familiar in a pre-verbal way, and also defiant in its own way, with the dancers often staring right back at the audience. At least, until the dancers disappear offstage with an end-of-the-world-like finality, the poignancy of which is further underscored by Lisa J. Pinkham’s lighting designs.
A long intermission is rarely welcomed, but in this case, it offered the audience a chance to catch their breath before the next work graced the stage, which was to be a world premiere from Dwight Rhoden. It turns out that break was doubly welcomed, because we had no idea the ride that Rhoden was about to take us on.
The resident choreographer and founding artistic director of New York-based Complexions Contemporary Ballet presented The Lightning Round, and if it’s not a statement piece, I don’t know what is. First things first, Rhoden clearly knows the importance of making an entrance, with the curtain rising to reveal the ensemble posed stock still under stark white light (the first taste of Michael Korsch’s dramatic lighting choices). This intro earned the first of many wowed gasps from the audience.
The Lightning Round is broken into five sections and features 16 dancers. It’s an intense, 30-something-minute evocation of life, complete with an exhausting, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it pace that attempts, admirably, to keep up with David Rozenblatt’s score. The music is a sparring match unto itself, a back and forth between the violin (and piano) and the percussion section which could just as easily set the stage for a space epic or war flick.
Like Zhang, Rhoden has crafted a piece that showcases the company’s agility and finesse in a way we don’t often see. Despite the fact that this hamster wheel never seems to slow, the choreography is as exacting as it is seductive, with a glossy sheen matched by Christine Darch’s shiny leotards (which have both swaths of color across the chest and an interesting half-pant, half-short design). But that’s not to say that Rhoden’s work exudes any kind of superficiality. Instead, every second feels weighted and risky, greedily stealing our breath and captivating us until the end. And it ends with a bang – actually, multiple bangs.
Stanton Welch’s The Four Seasons closes the program after another intermission, returning to the Houston Ballet stage for the first time since its debut back in 2007. It’s placement, after Zhang and Rhoden, marks a return to something more familiar and more traditional – including in its use of the oh-so-recognizable music of Antonio Vivaldi – but it’s no less affecting. In fact, it feels like a perfect end point.
Perhaps Welch’s most impressive accomplishment in The Four Seasons is his ability to capitalize on the familiarity of Vivaldi’s four concertos while telling a story that stands on its own. The work depicts the seasons as stages of a woman’s life and allows the acting of the company – which is incomparable – to shine, with Welch putting his dancers’ acting chops to good use as he expertly navigates the tonal shifts of Vivaldi’s alternating fast-slow-fast movements.
In Spring, Aoi Fujiwara is absolutely taken with first love, dancing sweetly with a charming Eric Best. Karina González embodies longing in Summer, tempted by Connor Walsh into a sensual pas de deux that she soon regrets. When the coming of Fall, Jessica Collado heartbreakingly laments her children leaving the nest, one of whom is Simone Acri, who it seems has been tasked with showing off whip-fast turns in every show this season. (And if so, rightly.) Finally, Amy Fote traverses the stage grief-stricken in Winter, a melancholic end to the piece.
Kandis Cook’s delicate costumes dress the dancers while Giannelli also provided lighting designs for The Four Seasons, which both go further in establishing mood (and season) then the changes to the giant tree that towers at the back of the stage. About that tree, well, I have questions. Ermanno Florio led the Houston Ballet Orchestra, with an impressive assist by Simon Thew, and the orchestra proved to be impeccable when tackling Vivaldi in particular (especially violinist Denise Tarrant during Winter).
In conclusion, you couldn’t ask for a stronger mixed rep program. Much like the four seasons, this program was built with four distinctly different and compelling works, but maybe more resonate in regard to the changing of seasons was the incredible appreciation shown for Fote, who retired years ago, and for Florio, who is leading his last show before stepping down as conductor. A lot of love was shown to both, back to back, and it really was the icing on the cake of a lovely evening at the ballet.
Performances will continue at 7:30 p.m. Saturdays and June 8, and 2 p.m. Sundays through June 16 at the Wortham Theater Center, 501 Texas. For more information, call 713-227-2787 or visit houstonballet.org. $25-$215.
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2024.
