1. art and entertainment
2. dance
3. ballet

Weekend
ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT • THURSDAY, OCTOBER 9, 2014 • PAGE B1
City Center
festival gives
dance new legs
BY ALEXANDRA VILLARREAL
Spectator Senior Staff Writer
“I have an impression of New York’s identity ... and I’ve really tied it up in my head with that music,” Tim Harbour, the
Australian Ballet’s resident choreographer, said. “What I love
about it is that there’s this very mesmeric, serene quality, but
there’s this tension that creeps into it almost imperceptibly.”
When the Aussie traveled to Manhattan as a child, he
slowly grew to recognize its intricacies—the pressure hidden
behind glamor and spectacle. Now, he’s returning to the city
with a new commission in tow for Fall for Dance, a multigenre dance festival at New York City Center from Oct. 8 to 19.
Bill Evans’ “Peace Piece,” with its intrinsically New York
jazz beat, inspired Harbour’s “Ostinato,” named for the repetitive chord progressions in its score. It begins with two men
moving in unison but without uniformity of style. After all,
principal dancers Daniel Gaudiello and Ty King-Wall definitely
have their own aesthetic.
“They’re very different people and very different personalities, so that informed the language that we developed,”
Harbour said.
They represent the ostinato phrase, and when soloist
Robyn Hendricks enters from stage left, she becomes the improvised right hand of the piano accompaniment.
“She’s really affecting these two men who begin with a
sense of harmony and togetherness,” Harbour said. “She comes
in as this extra element, and it forces each of them to get a new
perspective on themselves.”
It is rare for an artist to find reason within the abstract,
and the hint of narrative in Harbour’s work is one of the many
things that make him stand out in the world of contemporary
ballet. Harbour also pays meticulous attention to detail. When
he first began choreographing in his 30s, he was told to make
sure that every step was recognizably his. Now, each swerve of
hip and stretch of arm has his trademark on it. Of course, he’s
been influenced by the greats—Jirí Kylián, George Balanchine,
and others—but the snapshots in “Ostinato” are rooted in a
vocabulary that distinguishes itself from its ancestors.
“Second by second, every single moment had to feel
SEE FALL FOR DANCE, page B2
This Weekend in $27.50
Inside…
1. Pacific Northwest Balley ($10, p. B4)
2. ‘St. Vincent’ ($8.75, p. B3)
3. ‘Gone Girl’ ($8.75, p. B3)
ILLUSTRATION BY RACHAEL DOTTLE
PAGE B2
Best
of
WEEKEND OCTOBER 9, 2014
SWEATERS
Ah, fall. That magical time of year when the streets become rivers of pumpkin-spice-flavored beverages and apple cider doughnuts
are plentiful. Along with the seasonal treats, the transition to fall has been accompanied by a nip in the air. As a result, you’ve likely
donned your favorite sweater. This week, we’re taking a moment to appreciate the finer sweaters of pop culture, from authors to fictional characters. So curl up in your favorite cable-knit or turtleneck with a warm, pumpkin-y drink and follow me down this wooly
rabbit hole. —DAVID SALAZAR
Ernest Hemingway
Bill Cosby
Chances are, if you picture Ernest Hemingway
in your mind’s eye (or like, do a Google image
search), the most common image of him that
doesn’t have a glass of whiskey in the frame is
the one of him in an elaborate cable-knit turtleneck. After looking at this sweater, it’s tempting
to amend his favorite quote to “Write drunk, edit
sober, be cozy.”
One of TV history’s best dads also had some of the best taste in cold-weather
style. Whether it was random colorful shapes, a simple striped number, or
even that one weird sweater with track runners on it, Dr. Clifford Huxtable
was always wearing the most creative outfits while still managing to keep up
with his kids and all their shenanigans.
John Watson
Mr. Rogers
If I were friends with Sherlock Holmes and had to deal with his shit all the time, I probably wouldn’t have
the energy necessary for the sartorial sensibility that John Watson possesses. While he’ll often opt for a simple
cable-knit number, the most undeniably fashionable sweater he’s donned had its moment in the show’s best
episode, “A Scandal in Belgravia.” Let’s just say his sweater, which enterprising tumblr users have identified
as an Icelandic design from Reynolds, was as arresting as the interplay between Benedict Cumberbatch’s
detective and Irene Adler.
For many, Fred Rogers
is synonymous with childhood. Also synonymous
with Mr. Rogers is his collection of sweaters—which
really means that your
childhood is the same thing
as a closet full of wool.
His classic look is the red
half-zip cardigan, which
is so iconic that it’s in the
Smithsonian Institution’s
National Museum of
American History. I would
definitely be neighbors
with someone whose
sweater game was so on
point.
ILLUSTRATION BY TIFFANY FANG
Wyatt Cenac on his new Netflix special
BY CHARLES WOJCIK
Spectator Staff Writer
Veteran comedian Wyatt Cenac, widely
known for his tenure on the late-night satirical
television program “The Daily Show with Jon
Stewart,” spoke with Spectator about his upcoming comedy special, “Wyatt Cenac: Brooklyn,”
which will be released on Netflix on Oct. 21.
Charles Wojcik: Was the idea of the special
thought up by you, or did someone approach
you with the idea?
Wyatt Cenac: It was my idea. I wanted to make
another special. I’ve been thinking about doing one for a little while, and I was just sitting
around and asking myself, “What’s stopping
you?” I figured, “Oh, nothing is really stopping me, so let’s just do it,” and that’s how it
came about.
CW: How long did it take to get everything
ready? Did you already have the material, or
was that something else you had to plan out?
WC: At that point I had a fair amount of material
already written, and so that’s part of the reason why I felt ready to make another special.
I’d already been putting some stuff together.
I figured out that this is what I wanted to do.
It just became about going through the material I had and figuring out what I would want
to turn into an hour. ... I would say probably
a year.
CW: What I enjoyed most about your special
is how personal it is. You included stories of
relationship struggles, growing up, and your
father’s death. Was there any hesitation with
that sort of material?
WC: You’re kind of putting yourself out there,
and you know, there’s the hesitation that
while I am able to be OK with it, will other
people see it? Will they get it and be cool with
it, or will they feel bad for me? Ultimately, you
want people to laugh and you want them to
feel something. The last thing you want is to
have an audience come to a comedy show and
then they wind up just feeling sorry for you.
So there’s a little hesitation, but there’s also
that kind of thrill of “Oh, can I take something
personal, and make it relatable, and also make
it amusing, and make it something that kind
of touches people in a funny way?”
CW: What would you say your message is with
this special? What would you like the viewers to take away?
WC: Hopefully, they take away laughter, but beyond that I don’t know. For me it was one
that I kind of did on my own, as far as the
production, and so I hope that for all of the
DIY quality of it, they walk away and they
appreciate it but also that they get a sense
of what it’s like to see a show at Union Hall.
Part of the reason I shot it there was because it’s a place I like performing, and it’s
one of the first places that I did shows in
Brooklyn. Those are the types of shows I like.
I like them in a sort of cramped space where
everyone’s kind of crowded together, and
we’re all kind of close in on this thing. You
see so many specials where it’s like a big theater and those are great, but for me, most of
the time when I enjoy doing shows the most,
it’s in those tight little spaces, and so I hope
to give some sense of that to the viewer that
maybe they see that and appreciate that side
of going to see a comedy show.
CW: It definitely seems very personal and intimate as well as being in Brooklyn, which
makes it even more personal for you.
WC: I feel stand-up is a personal thing, it is an
intimate thing—you know, audiences are as
much a part of the show as the performer.
So to me, these are the places I enjoy doing
comedy at, and that’s why I became interested in comedy. It was seeing comedians in
those tiny little spaces that made me think,
“That’s amazing, that’s really cool.” So hopefully there’s a little bit of coming back around
to that idea of crawling into a weird basement
to watch a person say things into a microphone and laugh.
This interview has been condensed and edited
for clarity.
[email protected]
COURTESY OF ERIC MICHAEL PEARSON
FUNNY MAN | Comedian Wyatt Cenac’s latest
special will be released on Netflix Oct. 21.
Fall for Dance puts old, new side by side
FALL FOR DANCE from page B1
correct. So it became a bit of a puzzle of structure.
I hope it comes across as a very fluid slide through
the music,” Harbour said.
On World Ballet Day last week, as Tchaikovsky’s
“Swan Lake” anachronistically seeped into the
Australian Ballet’s five-hour livestream video,
Gaudiello, King-Wall, and Hendricks seemed content to be diverging from “The Nutcracker,” “Don
Quixote,” and “La Bayadère” while they ran through
“Ostinato.” After too many Sugar Plum Fairies and
Solors, new repertoire came as a welcome change
of pace.
Harbour’s trio is only one of 11 New York, U.S.,
or world premieres at Fall for Dance. The showcase is a launchpad for innovation. This year, it’s
celebrating 11 years since it was founded by CEO
and President of City Center Arlene Shuler, GS ’77,
Law ’78, in 2004.
When Shuler first arrived at the theater that
once hosted Balanchine’s Ballet Society, she was disappointed to discover its dwindling dance presence.
As she thought back to a festival at the Delacorte
Theater in the ’70s, she decided that she should
have her own. She would invite companies that
varied in approach, region, and recognition to collaborate for a series of performances at City Center
as the leaves gilded over. To bring in a crowd, she
priced all tickets at $15 so that everyone could have
access to some of the most talented dancers of the
21st century.
“The audiences in all of the arts are getting older,
and we want young people to start early and keep
going,” Shuler said. “You can’t perform to an empty
theater, right? You have to have audiences.”
Now, Fall for Dance has evolved into a string of
talks, master classes, and shows. Over the next few
days, 20 companies from 11 countries make up the
bill. To give dance new legs, City Center has commissioned two new works by Pontus Lidberg and
Mark Morris. Lidberg, a Swedish choreographer,
has constructed a pas de deux for American Ballet
Theatre principals Isabella Boylston and James
Whiteside, while Morris is exploring Mendelssohn’s
“Songs Without Words” with 16 of his own dancers
from his New York-based group.
While creation certainly runs through the festival’s veins, it also honors the classics. Frederick
Ashton’s 1937 ballet, “Les Patineurs,” sits alongside
the Lidberg debut, and newly established contemporary choreographers like Ohad Naharin of Israel
and “Black Swan” star Benjamin Millepied will also
be given their dues.
Naharin’s “Minus 16,” a compilation of his most
noteworthy oeuvre, spans a wide emotional spectrum, from dramatic and grandiose to intimate and
delicate. Men in suits thrash in frustration. Then,
a couple drops into the scene in a quiet portrait of
fragility. Spearheading the vignettes is Alvin Ailey
company member Samuel Lee Roberts. He executes
a light improv section in Oharin’s Gaga language,
which the choreographer devised to describe his
movement.
“It’s not one thematic thing. It’s sort of a journey,”
Roberts said of “Minus 16.” “It’s this incredible audience participation piece, and I think that’s really important for Fall for Dance because it’s trying to get the
audience into these companies and into dance itself.”
Meanwhile, Les Ballets Jazz de Montréal is initiating its U.S. tour at Fall for Dance, where Céline
Cassone and Alexander Hille will star in Millepied’s
duet, “Closer.” Cassone served as Millepied’s muse
for the piece in 2006, and it only makes sense that
she replicate her role in the city next week.
Millepied, the 37-year-old artistic director of
the Paris Opera Ballet, has become a household
name both inside and outside of the dance bubble.
It may not be a coincidence that Shuler specifically
requested “Closer” from BJM’s repertory.
“Of course there’s a big buzz around him, and he
deserves it because he has the talent,” BJM artistic
director Louis Robitaille said of Millepied.
Cassone’s original partner for “Closer” was
Sébastien Marcovici of the New York City Ballet.
When BJM adopted the pas de deux, Hille took his
place upon the suggestion of Millepied, whom he
met at Juilliard. The French choreographer knew
that only two dancers with tremendous strength
could manage the complicated patterns, lifts, and
dives thrown into the exhaustive 18-minute ballet.
“It’s a marriage between movement and music
that is all with subtlety, grace, and good taste instead of big tricks,” Robitaille said. “It takes a lot
of experience and maturity to be able to hypnotize
the audience.”
“There is nothing extraordinary like we see in
‘Swan Lake’ or ‘Don Quixote,’” Cassone added. “It’s
something simpler, but because it’s simpler, this is
where we find the challenge.”
Joining BJM are other acclaimed companies from across the globe, like Black Grace,
San Francisco Ballet, and Trisha Brown Dance
Company.
“I think that they do a really wonderful job of
getting the gamut of what is available in not only
New York City but in the world,” Roberts said.
In his voice—and everyone else’s—is the familiar thrum of enthusiasm that pumps through New
York City, the tension that creeps into Harbour’s
mesmeric serenity. The curtain is about to rise, and
friends are nervously whispering a final “merde”
before they are blinded by stage lights.
“We want people to fall in love with dance,”
Shuler said. With the “jigsaw puzzle” of programs
that she’s pieced together, Cupid’s arrows may just
hit home.
[email protected]
OCTOBER 9, 2014
WEEKEND PAGE B3
Thom Yorke’s selfrelease out of touch
I
t’s no secret that Thom
Yorke actively hates the
music industry. After ditching
his record label in 2007, he’s
since accused Apple of trying
to “destroy music” and Spotify
of being the “last desperate fart DAVID
of a dying corpse.” Perhaps it
ECKER
was naïve on my part, but I had
really begun to think that there Slightly
was nothing more Yorke could
Off Key
do to surprise me—that his
musical misanthropy had reached some kind of
bitter plateau.
Then he released his new album through
BitTorrent. Yes, that BitTorrent.
The album, “Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes,”
finds Yorke shunning literally every distribution
channel available in favor of a platform that, until
recently, was known primarily for its piracy. The
irony is almost too good to ignore, but I’m going
to try. Instead I’d like to focus on what I think
are the critical flaws in his incredibly isolationist
strategy.
For one thing, it makes the album extremely
inconvenient to purchase. BitTorrent has never
sold an album before, which means that every
purchaser will either need to sign up for PayPal
or spend time filling out his or her name, email
address, and credit card number. Why on earth
would I give my information to yet another website just to make one $6 purchase?
The album also can’t be downloaded on a mobile device. Sure, they’ll go ahead and take your
money, but in order to actually get your music,
you’ll have to put away your phone and pick up
your laptop. The process is ill-conceived from
start to finish, and it shows that Yorke and his
ilk have literally no idea what kind of experience
consumers actually want.
COURTESY OF THE WEINSTEIN COMPANY
ON HIS MURRAY WAY | Bill Murray stars in “St. Vincent,” a movie where he plays the curmudgeonly neighbor to single mom Maggie (Melissa McCarthy).
Director Theodore Melfi talks about ‘St. Vincent’ and Bill Murray
BY COCO DOWLING
Spectator Staff Writer
At first glance, “St. Vincent” may seem like your
regular Hollywood movie. With its star-studded
supporting cast, including Melissa McCarthy as
single mother Maggie and Naomi Watts as pregnant
stripper Daka, the film—and the many steps taken
to realize the script—focuses on Bill Murray. In his
first foray into feature film, screenwriter-director
Theodore Melfi jumped through many hoops to
grab Murray’s attention.
In a now-viral struggle to cast Murray, Melfi
had to try many antiquated means of contact because Murray does not have a manager, agent, or
publicist. Melfi left “message after message” on the
mailbox of a 1-800 number slipped to him by a mutual friend, producer Fred Roos. Finally, Murray’s
personal lawyer called and asked him to send a
one-page letter about himself and his proposal to
a P.O. box in upstate New York. After two weeks,
Murray’s lawyer called again, this time requesting that the entire script be sent to a P.O. box in
Martha’s Vineyard.
Another two weeks passed before a third call requested that the script be sent to a P.O. box in South
Carolina. Finally, a couple weeks later, Murray requested Melfi meet him in two days in Cannes,
which was impossible for Melfi’s schedule. After an
agonizing three weeks, Murray called Melfi again,
this time requesting a meeting in one hour at LAX.
After meeting at the airport, the two headed to InN-Out Burger to review the script.
Murray had few notes on the story, which
follows Vincent, a curmudgeonly war veteran
who agrees to look after his next-door neighbor
Maggie’s son, Oliver, for $11 an hour.
“He [Murray] had probably 20 different places
in the script where he had a little check mark. He
said, ‘Listen. You write with backhand and I write
and act with forehand,’” Melfi said, adding that
Murray suggested edits to the script.
“I went home and ... I thought, ‘This guy is fucking crazy.’ It took me maybe an hour to rewrite the
entire script for Bill Murray, because that’s all he
was asking for. And sure enough, I go, ‘That motherfucker.’ Because he was 100 percent right. It made
the script ... more alive. And I can’t even explain
how it did it.”
“I was trying to test the theory
that you could watch Bill Murray read the phone book. People watch that and they don’t
move. It’s the magic of Bill Murray.”
—Theodore Melfi, “St. Vincent”
director
Though Jack Nicholson was approached for the
role of Vincent before Murray, Melfi said that the
role is really meant for Murray.
“I didn’t really want Jack Nicholson. It was more
of a studio thing, like, ‘Who’s the biggest star in
the world?’ kind of bullshit,” he said. “I’ll tell you
what Bill Murray brings to the film. He has such a
pathos about him—such depth in his heart and his
eyes and his soul. Not one actor or human on the
planet has this.”
Though the cast and crew worked long hours
during filming, the experience was interspersed
with much cause to celebrate.
“We had lots of parties,” Melfi said. “It seemed
like we had a party every week, or every other week.
Bill said, ‘Oh, we’re about halfway through the
movie. We should have an over-the-hill party,’ so
we had an over-the-hill party, and the party started at wrap, which was at midnight. It’s been very
enjoyable getting to know these people because
they’re all great humans.”
Melfi said that the slower pacing of his movie
is aimed at allowing the audience to appreciate
the film’s honesty.
“Over the past 20 years of cinema, we’ve created an impatience in the audience,” Melfi said.
“At times, you’re missing out on a lot because you
don’t get to slow down and enjoy a human moment,
which takes time. I think we’ve gotten inundated
with movies that are fast-paced to the point where
we don’t even know what slowing down means
anymore.”
An example of the slower pacing is a clip of the
movie posted on YouTube that is used during the
end credits. In it, Murray smokes a cigarette on a
bench and sings along to the entirety of Bob Dylan’s
“Shelter from the Storm.”
“I was trying to test the theory that you could
watch Bill Murray read the phone book,” Melfi
said. “People watch that and they don’t move. It’s
the magic of Bill Murray.”
Though the title may suggest otherwise, the film
is not spiritual or religious in nature, but a more
broad shared condition.
“I was trying to say something more about
humans, and basically what I was trying to say
is that we all have value,” Melfi said. “Over time,
that value gets chipped away until we feel like we
have no value, and then you end up ... with a social security check and a small little ranch house
and not that much else to show for it, and you go,
‘What the fuck have I done?’ ... Just think of the
Vins in your life and have a sense of compassion
for other people, because we’re all on this damn
planet together.”
“St Vincent” will open in Manhattan on Oct. 10.
[email protected]
History speaks for itself—we
want our music to be easily accessible, and we don’t want to
waste our valuable time trying
to locate it.
It has become almost cliché to say that our media is hyper-fragmented. This is true, of course,
when it comes to the sheer range and availability of niche media, but it’s far less true when it
comes to our consumption habits. Chances are,
if you want to beef up your obscure knowledge,
you’ll rely on Wikipedia. Likewise, if you want to
keep tabs on (read: stalk) certain acquaintances,
you’ll probably check out their Facebooks and
Instagrams rather than sifting through endless
Google results. Our actions suggest that we tend
to prefer cohesive and unified experiences to a
jumbled mess of hits and misses.
Nowhere is this truer than in the music
industry. Over the past 100 years, we’ve seen
phonographs give way to the radio and CDs give
way to the iPod. We’ve seen tape decks combine
with CD players and CD players combine with
turntables. Hell, even Sirius and XM decided
they were better together than apart. History
speaks for itself—we want our music to be easily
accessible, and we don’t want to waste our valuable time trying to locate it. When a musician
completely ignores this reality, he might as well
be ignoring his fans.
It’s possible that Thom Yorke will gain enough
publicity to successfully pull off his latest stunt,
but I sincerely worry about the next guy (or gal)
who tries it. When it comes to music distribution, there really is a power in numbers, and if you
try to shut yourself off from that world, you just
might get more isolation than you bargained for.
David Ecker is a Columbia College senior majoring
in history. Slightly Off Key runs alternate
Thursdays.
‘Gone Girl,’ ‘Inherent Vice’ offer examples of the pitfalls and potential of narration in film
N
arration in films usually
annoys me. Most of the
time it spells out everything
I’m already watching, as if the
filmmaker thinks I’m some
kind of moron. Or they’ll
ALEX
lazily cram in a bunch of exDANIELS
position that they didn’t want
to take the time to figure out
Pull
with any visual efficiency. It
Focus
tends to feel removed, musing, uninvolved. It can be a
crutch for bad writing.
It took Kubrick’s films for me to realize
that it doesn’t have to be. Narration can add
a level of irony, unreliability, or surreality to
what’s happening on screen. There’s a lot of
potential, and it’s up to a good storyteller to
figure out when it’s appropriate to use.
This weekend, I saw two new films from
two great filmmakers, each of which prominently featured narration: “Gone Girl” and
“Inherent Vice.” And although it was effective in each picture, I felt very differently
about each filmmaker’s decisions on how to
use it.
In “Gone Girl,” hearing the voices of both
main characters shifts our perspective on
the story. It’s textbook unreliable narration. We start out unsure of what happened
to the wife of Nick (Ben Affleck) and feeling
that perhaps he’s holding something back.
When we switch to the voice of his wife Amy
(Rosamund Pike) in the form of journal entries, we’re first sympathetic, but then come
across a number of red flags. This is meant
to build intrigue, to create a cat-and-mouse
dynamic with the audience.
The problem, however, is that we never
invest in the characters enough for their lies
to carry any weight. Their backstory feels
inauthentic, as if their memories came from
a writer’s personality rather than their own.
They are neither unique nor three-dimensional. Both actors give a wooden, monotonous, “I’m going to speak in a sleek, modern,
disinterested voice” delivery. Because little
effort is put into crafting sympathetic characters, the narration becomes a cheap gimmick.
More troubling, however, is that the most
captivating, efficiently told moments of this
meandering film are driven by narration and
montage.
Now, I have not read Gillian Flynn’s novel
on which the film was based, so I’ll give it
the benefit of the doubt and say that this was
poor execution on director David Fincher’s
part. He seemed to only be worried about
directing the camera. Paul Thomas Anderson,
on the other hand, has a whole other magnitude of author to work with in adapting
Thomas Pynchon’s “Inherent Vice.”
Pynchon has never been adapted to film
before now, so it was up to Anderson, who
also wrote the film’s screenplay, to figure out
how to keep us invested in the moment without getting rid of Pynchon’s poignant yet sardonic prose. It helps that the story has vague
noir roots, where narration is a staple. But
rather than the voice of P.I. “Doc” Sportello
(Joaquin Phoenix), we are treated to lilting,
expressive narration from a side character,
played by Joanna Newsom, who is hardly in
the film.
The integrity of Pynchon’s inventive prose
remains intact, and the choice of using this
specific character amplifies its ability to draw
us in. She sounds like a flower child: introspective, compassionate, and playful, fitting
for the ’70s setting. The best thing about her
narration, though, is that it blatantly enters
in and out of Doc’s own stream of consciousness. These jarring moments deliberately
point out that we are being narrated to, making the narration more meta than manipulative. There’s also a hazy passing mention of
Doc’s psychic abilities, which suggests a mutable connection between these two disparate
characters.
There can be no final word on the use of narration, so I don’t wish to attempt to offer one.
As a discerning viewer, however, I can recognize when it’s used more effectively. And I can
say that it helps to start out with A) a great
writer, and B) a good reason. After all, the need
for narration isn’t inherent in every story.
Alex Daniels is a General Studies student
majoring in classics and a filmmaker. Pull
Focus runs alternate Thursdays.
WEEKEND PAGE B4
OCTOBER 9, 2014
Flipside
Guide
WHERE IT’S AT
Place: 93 Wythe Ave., Brooklyn
Cost: $
Rating: »»»
DAISY CHENG FOR SPECTATOR
MATCHA MAKER | Williamsburg’s latest addition is MatchaBar, which deals in powdered green tea, incorporating it into cake, cupcakes, and hot and cold beverages. It also sells the antioxidant-rich beverage in bulk at its storefront just off the L train.
MatchaBar
Cakes, hot and cold drinks among
Williamsburg tea bar’s offerings
BY DAISY CHENG
Columbia Daily Spectator
WHERE IT’S AT
Time: Through Oct. 12
Place: Joyce Theater, 174
Eighth Ave.
Cost: From $10
Rating: »»«
COURTESY OF ANGELA STERLING
TIDAL MOVEMENT | The Pacific Northwest Ballet’s current
tour at the Joyce Theater falls flat despite its skill and material.
Pacific Northwest Ballet
Skilled dancers, choreographers
aren’t enough to elevate Joyce stint
As far as superfoods go, matcha seems to be at the top of its game at
Williamsburg’s MatchaBar.
Founded by brothers Max and Graham Fortgang, MatchaBar was
created not just to sell matcha drinks and desserts, but to create awareness for the immense health benefits matcha has to offer.
A powdered green tea, matcha’s health benefits and versatility have
made it one of today’s fastest-growing food trends. Two grams of matcha
contain the same amount of caffeine as a cup of coffee—but it contains
about 10 times as many antioxidants. Moreover, it contains an amino
acid that produces a calming effect, making you feel alert (from the
caffeine) and calm at the same time.
Just a short walk from the L train stop at Bedford Avenue,
MatchaBar’s small space boasts a clean-cut, simple interior. Its menu,
like its design, is minimalist but comprehensive, comprised mostly of
matcha-related drinks. MatchaBar’s versatility is impressive—it sells
matcha fruit juice drinks, matcha coffees, matcha teas, and some matcha desserts.
One of its most popular beverages is the cinnamon hemp matcha.
This innovative combination is a twist on the typical matcha green tea—
the rich matcha has a slightly nutty taste, sweetened by the cinnamon.
With no added sweetener, the drink was very refreshing and light—a
healthy option, for sure. I tried it hot, but it’s available hot and cold.
I also tried the vanilla almond matcha, which is made with almond
milk and a hint of vanilla. Similar to the cinnamon hemp matcha, this
drink retains its distinct matcha flavor, but this time with a vanilla
undertone. As a cold drink, however, the flavor wasn’t as strong as in
the warm drink.
Of course, the café wouldn’t be a café without desserts. MatchaBar
has some of its own matcha sweets to go along with its drinks. I ordered
a small matcha bundt cake and a matcha cupcake.
While both desserts had matcha elements—the cake had the powder over it and the cupcake had matcha frosting—its flavor was not as
strong as it was in the drinks. The cake’s matcha powder added little
to the original taste of the sweet, spongy cake, and the dominant flavor
of the cupcake was chocolate. Nonetheless, the desserts were a nice
complement to the drinks.
If you want more matcha, MatchaBar has its product directly sourced
from a family farm in Nishio, Japan, and they sell various sizes of two
grades of the tea powder.
MatchaBar’s innovative offerings will undoubtedly make it a haven
for health-conscious Brooklynites. While matcha may be a bit of an
acquired taste, its relatively light flavors make for a refreshing break
from the heaviness of coffee.
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BY ALEXANDRA VILLARREAL
Spectator Senior Staff Writer
Blues, tans, grays—costume colors evoke the same removed tranquility as conveyed in the Pacific Northwest Ballet’s program at the
Joyce Theater.
PNB is known for its long, languid lines and juxtaposing, sharp technique. When the dancers perform William Forsythe’s “In the Middle,
Somewhat Elevated,” they are in their element. Thanks to Maurice
Sendak’s fantastical influence, their “Nutcracker” gives Clara and her
toy a new bent. The company is constantly pushing boundaries and
imbuing classicality with edge. For the troupe’s Joyce tour from Oct. 8
to 12, it has partnered with some of the world’s leading choreographers,
so it’s surprising that the show comes off cold.
Fronting the bill is Christopher Wheeldon’s “Tide Harmonic,” which
debuted in May 2013 for PNB’s 40th anniversary season. Wheeldon is
a genius. He has a way of navigating bodies so they seem an extension
of the soul. His “After the Rain” and the 2013 9/11 New York City Ballet
film tribute it inspired are both viscerally intoxicating. One cannot
watch “This Bitter Earth” with apathy.
“Tide Harmonic” would be a valiant effort for any other choreographer, but given Wheeldon’s talent, it falls short. It’s stuck and fidgety.
For a piece about water, the motions lack fluidity. Gliding, sliding, and
skidding are common, but so are flexed feet and purposefully distorted
positions. The dancers are lovely, of course, but even they cannot make
any of it mean something. Perhaps that is the point. It could be that for
once, Wheeldon doesn’t want to take his audience on an emotional
rollercoaster. What a shame.
Its successor is better. Some say that choreographer Alejandro
Cerrudo is a Kylián copycat, but at least his repertoire has electricity.
“Memory Glow” is a provocative ode to Cerrudo’s love, Ana, and its
duets attest to the messy intricacies of any substantive relationship.
Leah Merchant melts into her partner’s arms with a sense of honest
exhaustion. Elizabeth Murphy stretches her fingertips into the beyond,
her vulnerability on display. Meanwhile, the male corps exudes poised
masculinity and grace. Even if “Memory Glow” does replicate the greats,
at least it’s stunning, riveting, and irresistibly immediate.
Finally, Justin Peck’s new piece offers insight into his development
as a choreographer. The Columbia Ballet Collaborative introduced him
to the choreographic scene with “A Teacup Plunge” in 2009. Now, he’s
the resident choreographer for New York City Ballet, and he’s getting
commissions left and right. Though “Debonair” will officially premiere
this November in Seattle, New York audiences are getting a preview
now, and it’s spectacular. His leading lady is PNB principal Carla Körbes,
who set dance media ablaze when she announced her premature retirement in June of next year.
Peck may be the Balanchine of the 21st century—he manipulates
his ancestor’s vernacular with ease, but he also gives it an update. Like
Balanchine, he’s thrown a few playful plots into an otherwise abstract
ensemble, where couples flirtatiously waltz across the marley. But unlike Balanchine, Peck’s dancers are men and women, not boys and girls.
Yes, “Debonair” has an ephemeral, sparkling quality, but it doesn’t
quite reach transcendence because of the venue. Peck’s skill lies in his
effective use of space—circularity and expansiveness are two of his
trademarks. Unfortunately, the Joyce can’t support the magnitude of
his movement. One can only hope that Seattle’s McCaw Hall will be
more accommodating.
PNB’s dancers are some of the best in the country. Unfortunately,
their stint at the Joyce lacks their usual vitality and passion, but it’s
still beautiful ballet. In a world where tricks are the new artistry, that’s
saying something.
The Pacific Northwest Ballet performs at the Joyce Theater, 175
Eighth Ave., through Oct. 12. Tickets start at $10.
[email protected]
WHERE IT’S AT
Time: Through Nov. 8
Place: Metropolitan Opera
Cost: From $25
Rating: »»»
COURTESY OF MARTY SOHL
DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC | Markus Werba, left, and Pretty Yende star as Papageno and Pamina in the Metropolitan Opera’s production of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute.” The production is directd by Julie Taymor.
‘The Magic Flute’
The Met presents Julie Taymor’s
production of ‘Die Zauberflöte,’
Mozart’s ‘convoluted fairy tale’
BY CHRIS BROWNER
Spectator Opera Critic
What do the Beatles, the Walt Disney Company, and Wolfgang
Amadeus Mozart have in common?
Works of theirs have all been staged by visionary director Julie Taymor.
For the Beatles, it was “Across the Universe,” and for Disney, it was
“The Lion King.” In the case of Mozart, Taymor directed a production of his final opera, “Die Zauberflöte” (“The Magic Flute”), for the
Metropolitan Opera in 2004, and it was this staging that the Met presented on Oct. 6. However, even the spectacle of this dazzling production could not fully compensate for the lackluster cast assembled for
Monday night’s performance.
The opera itself is something of a convoluted fairy tale depicting
the exploits of a mysterious prince, Tamino, and his bird-catcher companion, Papageno. What begins as a rescue mission to save the princess
Pamina from an evil sorcerer, Sarastro, turns into a quest for love and
enlightenment as the pair eventually undergoes trials to join Sarastro’s
brotherhood. Despite some outdated ideas about men and women—the
1791 opera has moments of outlandish misogyny—and an abstruse plot,
the work has endured due to a wealth of beloved melodies.
Taymor’s production takes the whimsy of the piece and runs with
it, bringing the audience along on a surreally spellbinding exploration.
Colorful puppets, masks, dancers, and stilt walkers cavort within a set
of translucent walls, vivid lighting, and abstract symbols. The production is inventive throughout, and Taymor’s wealth of clever ideas never
seems to wane.
Another source of excitement bursts from the orchestra pit as Adam
Fischer leads a lively reading of Mozart’s score. From the overture’s
opening allegro, he chooses surprisingly zippy tempos for much of the
evening, and though the pacing seemed rushed at times, the overall
energy of his conducting was palpable. Furthermore, Maestro Fischer
drew a remarkable variety of colors out of his players, offering the
audience a raw yet vital account of this masterpiece of the repertory.
Toby Spence is an underwhelming Tamino, and his stiff persona
does little to portray his character’s nobility. The tenor’s tone is pleasant
enough, showing only slight signs of strain in the upper register, but his
bland approach brings little of interest. South African soprano Pretty
Yende, who made quite an impression with a last minute Met debut in
2013, brings a bright tone and careful finesse to the role of Pamina, the
young princess in distress.
As the evening’s comic relief, Markus Werba is a wily and lovable
Papageno. Complementing his robust baritone with committed physicality and deft timing, Werba makes much of this endearing sidekick role, and his sweetheart Papagena is sung charmingly by Ashley
Emerson.
Ana Durlovski offered a vocally inconsistent debut as the Queen of
the Night, Pamina’s maniacal mother. While Durlovski shows impressive agility and shimmering clarity in the upper reaches of her instrument, this brilliance contrasts noticeably with muddy singing in the
middle and lower ranges.
Stalwart bass René Pape brings an authoritative presence to Sarastro,
the opera’s benevolent moral compass. Pape’s performance is certainly
the most refined of the night, as he displays a complete command of
his role with a sonorous tone. Mark Schowalter is a comically sinister
Monostatos, and the Metropolitan Opera Chorus renders the opera’s
magical choral music beautifully.
As was the case with the Met’s presentation of Mozart’s “Le nozze di
Figaro” earlier this season, it is the composer’s creativity that ultimately
succeeds in enthralling the audience despite a mediocre performance.
The vocals in “The Magic Flute” aren’t wholly unappealing—they simply do not meet the highest standards of great Met performances. In
the end, Taymor’s mesmerizing production and Mozart’s genius for
melody still make the opera worth attending.
Performances of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute” run through Nov. 8, and
tickets start at just $25. More information can be found online at www.
metoperafamily.org.
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