After last night’s show with American Ballet Theatre, everyone asked me, “Do you like Woolf Works?” Therefore, is it the biggest cop-out to say that I liked some of it?
Woolf Works is like Balanchine’s Jewels in that it’s a triptych of ballets that are only loosely connected by theme. Just as it’s possible to, say, adore Rubies but be indifferent to Emeralds, the three different ballets that comprise Wayne McGregor’s Woolf Works have already become a matter of debate among balletomanes.
The first section (I Now, I Then) is inspired by Mrs. Dalloway. It is the section I found the weakest. McGregor attempted a fairly literal retelling of Mrs. Dalloway, except the interiority of the novel translates poorly to dance. So you had too many characters onstage, and their relationships were blurry and confusing. There was Virginia Woolf/Old Clarissa (Alessandra Ferri), Richard (Roman Zhurbin), young Clarissa (Lea Fleytoux), Peter (Herman Cornejo), Sally (Cassandra Trenary), Septimus (Calvin Royal III), Rezia (Breanne Granlund), and Evans (Patrick Frenette).
Mrs. Dalloway is a novel about repressed sexuality. Clarissa’s memory of kissing Sally is a huge arc, as is Septimus’ memory of his wartime friend Evans. However, McGregor makes the kiss between Clarissa and Sally a “blink and you miss it” moment. Septimus does dance with Evans, but you don’t sense anything homoerotic either.
The other theme of Mrs. Dalloway that comes across poorly is the passage of time. Despite having a young/old Clarissa double, and the somewhat obvious stage trick of having old Clarissa watch young Clarissa, you would never get the irony and nostalgia of the novel from watching the ballet.
The best part of I Now, I Then is the solo for Septimus. It is straightforward, and an anguished depiction of PTSD. Calvin Royal III is astonishing in the solo. But the other dancers are wasted, including the always amazing Herman Cornejo. He serves primarily as a partner for Old Clarissa, Young Clarissa and Sally. Why? The two characters are unconnected. Alessandra Ferri is also fairly wasted. The dance moves are repetitive. Hunched neck and shoulders, frantic arm waving, extreme crotch-splitting extensions, off-center lifts.
I Now, I Then has all the characters of Mrs. Dalloway, but none of the essence.
The second part of the triptych called Becomings is loosely based on Orlando. Here, McGregor goes almost completely abstract. The stage is dark except for some laser beams and fog. It resembles a dance club. The music by Max Richter is loud and pulsating, as if you are in a rave. The dancers start with Elizabethan-inspired clothing but shed more and more of the ornate costumes as the ballet goes on.
The ballet Becomings reminds me the most of is Twyla Tharp’s In the Upper Room. The music builds to the same kind of crescendo, the ambience is the same (the smoke, the laser beams!), and the way groups of dancers run onstage is effective in the same way. I personally loved it. It was visceral and exciting. I’d see Becomings as a standalone.
McGregor uses the undervalued ABT corps beautifully. The central role of Orlando was danced by Cate Hurlin and she was striking with her shock of red hair and uniquely confident style. Otherwise, the dancers remain largely anonymous. This is a gift for the company, not for the company stars.
The final section was called Tuesday and is based on The Waves. But if you know anything about Virginia Woolf’s life, and also anything about Wayne McGregor, you’ll guess (correctly) that Tuesday is a re-enactment of Woolf’s suicide. To drive the point home, there is a voiceover of Woolf’s suicide note (read by Gillian Anderson), and a backdrop of waves. It’s not subtle.
Tuesday has Alessandra Ferri now stepping through “waves,” which are really corps dancers imitating the undulating movement of water. Max Richter’s music is beautiful and haunting and does much of the legwork. Ferri also makes this act work. She is so expressive, so charismatic. But it does get repetitive. All three works could have benefited from some trimming.
At the end of the evening, there was rapturous applause for Alessandra Ferri, who is 61 years old and still has so much beauty of movement. She is going to be artistic director in Vienna. Safe to say this might have been her last time dancing onstage.