'Herman Schmerman' reviews 'Mopey' reviews '2nd Prologue' reviews 'Pergolesi' reviews Boal in reviews Whelan in reviews recent Peter Boal & reviews more Eric Taub reviews Discuss this review (Open for at least 6 months)

At the Joyce, Whelan appeared with Peter Boal in the pas de deux from William Forsythe's 'Herman Schmerman,' one of Whelan's more popular roles in City Ballet's repertory, and one created on her by Forsythe. She looked, well, wonderful. Strong (she's clearly been spending her off-time seriously working out), witty and sinuous as ever. 'Herman Schmerman' is among the Forsythe works I like the most, and one for which Whelan is well-suited, especially as this is yet another ballet in which Forsythe goes for the bare-leg-and-toe-shoes look (showing off her long, long legs to great advantage). With Forsythe's familiar sometimes-ballet, sometimes-roughhousing, sometimes-charades vocabulary, this duet is a friendly, if enigmatic, encounter between Whelan and Boal. They sometimes echo each other, or go off on tangents, only to return and entwine in new ways. The delightful highlight of the dance is when Whelan, clad in a very chic, if revealing, Versace leotard, exits briefly, and returns in a bright yellow miniskirt; moments later, Boal, who'd been dressed conventionally in a gray shirt and trousers, exits and returns, proudly bare-chested, in a matching skirt. It is perhaps silly, but in a gentle way which doesn't undermine the solidity of Forsythe's construction.

Here Boal, one of the greatest classicists of our time, was essaying a style quirky neo-neo-classical-expressionism (to coin what one hopes will be a short-lived phrase), for which he's not ideally suited, more by temperament than physique. He brought a wonderful clarity to Forsythe's often-fractured vocabulary, but seemed content to allow Whelan to take the spotlight, and was a supportive cavalier rather than a foil and competitor (as performed by City Ballet's Albert Evans, who usually dances this duet with Whelan).

However welcome Whelan's appearance, this show was called Peter Boal & Company, and the evening began with Boal's rendition of 'Pergolesi,' a solo originally made for Mikhail Baryshnikov by Twyla Tharp. Set, perhaps not surprisingly, to the music of Giovanni Battista Pergolesi, this dance looks like a very, very toned-down version of the frenetic solos Tharp had made for Baryshnikov in the mid-Seventies' famous Push Comes to Shove. Here, there's much classical showmanship mixed with pure-and-simple playing to the audience. Clad in a shining white Mizrahi shirt-and-pants ensemble, Boal reforms his familiar refined reticence into a winningly bashful playfulness. In 'Pergolesi' Boal repeatedly engages the audience, confidently presenting himself with arms wide-open for applause for which, if they don't arrive quickly enough, he's not above soliciting with a delicate wave. But where Baryshnikov may have had a more wordly and knowing demeanor, Boal presents an angelic, almost childlike, innocence. (I should note that even the trickiest sections posed no difficulty at all for Boal.) Perhaps the greatest reaction from the audience came, though, at the end of 'Pergolesi's' first section, where, after a flourish of tricky turns, Boal bangs his thighs in a quote from Prodigal Son, and then briefly quotes Apollo, assuming the signature pose in fifth with his arms raised towards the heavens. As with Herman Schmerman, 'Pergolesi' is a bit of a stretch for Boal. I was happy to see how, rather than trying to imitate Misha, he found a way to make his own personality work with Tharp's demands.

Pergolesi wasn't the only solo of the evening. Next was a new piece, 'Mopey,' by Marco Goecke. This could only be considered a star turn for City Ballet's Sean Suozzi, as the choreography was as opaque as it was frenetic. It started with Suozzi, in black jeans and sweatshirt, walking jerkily across the back of the stage with the strings of the hood pulled so tightly his face was almost totally obscured. All I could think was we were about to be presented with an "Oh my God! They killed Kenny!" moment, but no such luck. Suozzi reappeared shirtless, and the rest of 'Mopey' seemed to be a study in petulance, attitude and more attitude, as if Suozzi were portraying a rock star enduring an attack by persistent mosquitos zeroing in on his chest and back, or perhaps Tourette's. Yes, there was a lot of chest and back scratching and thumping, and palsied flinging about of the hands and arms, often while Suozzi simply paced about, or stood, knees slightly flexed, the epitome of coolness. There were a few technically demanding bits, but mostly the parts of Mopey set to C. P. E. Bach differed little from the parts set to The Cramps, or, for that matter, to silence, and it was only Suozzi's brooding presence, artfully side-lit by David Moodey, that gave 'Mopey' even a little interest. Suozzi had already dazzled me a few times at City Ballet, and I'm certain we'll be seeing more of him there, and at a more exalted level than his current corps newbie position. I don't think the same can be said about the works of Goecke, however.

The final piece on the program was John Alleyne's '2nd Prologue' (yes, the title raises a lot of questions your answers will be as good as mine), danced by Boal, Suozzi, and City Ballet's ever-lovely Carla Körbes. As with Mopey, the choreographer's intent seemed hard to discern. At times Suozzi and Boal seemed to be competing for the attention and favors of Körbes, but with such an abstracted movement style it became quite difficult to follow the ins and outs of these entanglements, or, more to the point, care. Alleyne is very fond of repeating stylized bits of movement, as when he has each man reach out an arm, hand raised, towards Körbes' undoubtedly inviting bosom, only to have her brush away the offending limb at the last moment. This isn't nearly as titillating as it sounds; in fact, by requiring the dancers to execute such a would-be provocative movement in the most angular and arid fashion imaginable, utterly divorced from whatever meaning it might convey, Alleyne seems uncertain as to whether he wants this movement to be interpreted as a moment of carnality averted, or simply one motif out of many in his composition. After seeing it for what seemed the dozenth time, it seemed nothing so much as merely precious, which I doubt was Alleyne's actual intention. Although there seemed to be a great deal of angst lying beneath the surface of this trio's relationship, the cause, or, worse, the real affect, never arose. It was only in the moments when Boal and Suozzi danced together that '2nd Prologue' seemed to come alive, with some exuberant leaps and "you-toss-me, I'll-toss-you" mano-a-mano partnering. Körbes, normally luminous on the State Theater stage, here never seemed to come alive, looking wan and passive, and was completely overshadowed by either. I think had Wendy Whelan danced in it instead of Körbes, the piece might've made more sense, or perhaps not, but at least it would have been a high-voltage performance from all.

Although I had my reservations about half of the dances on the program, I would've felt churlish dissing the entire evening because of this. I'd have been happy had I just seen Whelan and Boal together that the two solos were so enjoyable was really icing in the cake. It was good to see Boal working to expand his range beyond the perhaps comfortable confines of his City Ballet repertory; if the repertory let him down in '2nd Prologue,' at least Boal made the attempt, and, frankly, I'd probably pay good money to watch him tie his shoelaces. Anything more, as they say, is gravy.