NYCB PREMIERES TWO BALLETS BY TILER PECK AND ALEXEI RATMANSKY

REVIEW BY CELIA IPIOTIS

CONCERTO FOR TWO PIANOS
For many, Tiler Peck is one of NYC Ballet’s quintessential ballerina’s, and now, she adds choreographer to her list of company credits. Celebrated for her inimitable musicality and effortless dancing, Peck premiered a new work on her home stage.

Set to a bright score by Poulenc, Concerto For Two Pianos frees its dancers to levitate to the music. Already in motion when the curtain lifts,  a phalanx of dancers rise up and from that moment forward, the motion never stops. Flattering, filmy outfits by Zac Posen appeared to be visually designed to create contrast between the soloist (Nadon in red) and the corps in purple/lavender colors. When she unwraps her long limbs in front of the corps, her line contrasts against the sweep of color behind her. 

The outfits worn by the two men, Roman Meija and Chun Wai Chan — gray body tight tops and leggings– also make every move visible. In a crowd pleasing solo, Meija grabs the audience’s attention with his charm, nonstop spins and air born flights.

As if lifted by the music, the ensemble moves in unison and then splits into  countervailing groupings of two and three. Mixed gender partnering happens with generous facility, and the choreography licks the melodic flow while bouncing off the buoyant rhythms expertly performed by pianists Hanna Kim and Stephen Gosling.

Occasionally, the ballet is clearly touched by humor like the moment when dancers encircle Meja and then peel away one by one in perfect Rockettes fashion. This recurs several times contributing to ballet’s visual variety and delightfulness.

SOLITUDE
Alone on his knees, a man quietly holds a young boy’s hand. Dancers appearing and disappearing in low light feed through the background in shifting altitudes. As lines of couples criss-cross, men lift women in silent leaps that rotate up and down producing a type of carousel effect. 

Newly installed as NYCB’s artist in residence, Alexei Ratmansky delivered his first new ballet, Solitude, set to a gorgeously brooding score by Gustav Mahler. The ballet references a haunting photograph mirroring the an onstage image: a father in war torn Kharkiv kneeling next to his dead son, and refusing to release his hand.

Filmy threads of people poetically connect in midair, only to lose their grip suggesting wave after wave of military incursions over-running Ukraine. Like another  ballet born of tragedy, Antony Tudor’s Dark Elegies,  in Ratmansky’s Solitude,  a community mourns its loss, intensely described through taut torsos lifting and then dropping motionless on the floor. 

The ballet’s mournful atmosphere is embroidered with Ratmansky’s signature inventiveness — steps and poses combine in unexpected triangulations. Arms jut up, fingers are spread taut while dancers hover over the ground, occasionally falling off balance into a timeless space. At last, the young boy, Valedon (The School of American Ballet student) rises and is guided away from his father, Adrian Danchig-Waring.

In the stillness, Danchig-Waring, pops up, levitating into the atmosphere, a lone figure. His stretched body crumples time and again in a soliloquy of anguish.

Despite the ballet’s melancholic heart, Solitude releases a spirit of hope.

EYE ON THE ARTS, NY — Celia Ipiotis