Last night’s season opener at New York City Ballet reminded me (strangely) of the television sci-fi show Westworld. The first season of Westworld was some of the most gripping television I’ve ever experienced. The story-telling and acting were just top-notch. And then … the show lost its way. The second and third seasons sputtered along with occasional flashes of brilliance, but none of the cohesion and emotional resonance of the first season.
The first act at last night’s program set the bar so high that perhaps it was unfair to make this comparison. I can scarcely imagine of any performance of Balanchine's Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto no. 2 being better. Tiler Peck’s command of this difficult role is unrivaled. She actually makes it look easy. The speed and effortlessness of her opening cadenza (with those tricky pirouettes in tendu) is remarkable. Of course, she’s Tiler Peck so she knows how to play with the steps and music. One of her favorite mannerisms is to time her chaîne turns exactly to each beat of the music. But last night there was also a queenly authority and glow that was not always there with her portrayal.
It helped that her partner was Chun Wai Chan (making his debut). He is the finest partner in the company. He just has a way of making the ballerina look beautiful. He also is skilled at the solo portions of the role. Not in a flashy way, but his turns are always centered, his feet pointed, and he never tires. Pairing Peck with Chan was inspired casting.
This ballet’s second ballerina role is almost as challenging as the lead role. The “turning girl” has to execute such difficult sequences of turns and jumps. The difficulty seemed to be too much for Olivia MacKinnon, who got through the steps but with noticeable tension in her upper body. And compared to Peck, there was a lack of abandon in her movement.
But the overall performance was so great that it seemed like a natural program closer.
Unfortunately, after an intermission we were treated to a low-impact performance of the overdone Duo Concertant. This short ballet needs a certain playfulness. Otherwise, the choreography is overly cutesy, while the ending on the darkened stage with a single spotlight is quite frankly pretentious. Megan Fairchild and Anthony Huxley are fine dancers, but their interpretation is very instrumental. They danced the steps, and nothing more. As a result, the ballet was simply nice. Not enough.
Jerome Robbins’ Glass Pieces is another ballet that needed more than the dancers last night offered. It is supposed to be propulsive and exciting. Domenika Afanasenkov as the Yellow Girl was striking and imposing. Definitely one to watch. But the corps in both The Rubric: and the percussive finale were sloppy. To make matters worse, Unity Phelan and Adrian Danchig-Waring in the central “Egyptian” pas de deux were frustratingly opaque and remote. They did not stretch out the many geometric positions to their full effect. I have seen them do this before, and remember them being stellar. It was an off night, and (unusual for Glass Pieces) a muted way to end the evening.
The program order should have been reversed. Piano Concerto no. 2 as the closer would have sent everyone home happy.
