In 1975, Balanchine organized the Ravel Festival. Balanchine had been an admirer of Maurice Ravel’s music since he met the composer briefly in 1925. He said about the festival: “Well, what is a festival? It is festivities. Ravel and I worked together in L'Enfant. To me, he is a great composer.”

David Gabriel and Indiana Woodward in Balanchine's <i>Sonatine</i> &copy; Erin Baiano
David Gabriel and Indiana Woodward in Balanchine's Sonatine
© Erin Baiano

The “festive” part of the word “festival” is apparent in the four works from the festival that were performed in NYCB’s All Ravel program. They were different from the austere black and white works that dominated the 1972 Stravinsky Festival. The Ravel Festival ballets had a lightness, even a frothiness that went down like easy calories.

Jerome Robbins’ In G Major is set to Ravel’s piano concerto of the same name, and evokes a playful summer day. The first movement is pure Robbins, with girls dressed in tennis outfits skipping and cavorting in this imaginary beach. The heart of a ballet is a long, lyrical pas de deux that in retrospect is more like “hi, I’m Suzanne Farrell. Watch me”. The pas de deux emphasizes Farrell’s long legs and slightly elusive quality. The ballerina often walks towards and then backs away from her partner. 

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Sara Mearns in Balanchine's Pavane
© Erin Baiano

Mira Nadon was debuting in the Farrell role and even though she’s very different from Farrell (she’s warmer, perhaps less inwards and more directly engaging with the audience), something about the plush way her legs rise in arabesque is very Farrell-esque. She also has a grandness in movement that recalls Farrell. She is an absolute star. It is a shame that her partner was Tyler Angle (replacing Gilbert Bolden, who had a grisly onstage injury during a performance earlier this season). Angle’s greatest skill is appearing almost invisible as he partners ballerinas. And sure enough, he seamlessly carried Nadon offstage in an upside-down star lift and it was gorgeous. Like silk. But … there was no flirtation, no push-pull. It became a masterclass in partnering, and not much more.

Sonatine is a miniature gem: about 12 minutes of joy. It’s another one of those “dancers respond to the musician onstage” ballets (Duo Concertant being the most famous). But Sonatine is gentler, more folk-inflected. David Gabriel had a fantastic debut. He reminds me of Anthony Huxley, with the elegant demeanor, clean lines and soft jumps. Indiana Woodward is perfect in the Violette Verdy role: she has the sweetness and charm. The ballet seemed like a genuine dialogue between the two dancers and the pianist.

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Dominika Afanasenkov in George Balanchine's Errante
© Erin Baiano

Pavane is a short work that is basically Balanchine cosplaying Isadora Duncan. There’s not much dancing to speak of. A lot of simple bourrées. But there is a large Duncan-like sash, and one of Ravel’s most beautiful works: Pavane pour une infante défunte. It also resembles Martha Graham’s Lamentation. In other words, it’s a perfect vehicle for Sara Mearns. Her technique has eroded somewhat, but she still has tons of Duncan-like charisma and drama. She is a dancer who can create a story with the most simple of steps.

Errante (formerly known as Tzigane) is also a rather slight ballet, probably made more substantial because of Suzanne Farrell’s (the ballet’s originator) charisma. Dominika Afanasenkov made a debut in the Farrell role, and it helps that from afar she looks hauntingly like her: same height, same blond hair and face. I saw this ballet last year with Mira Nadon, and Afanasenkov is cooler and more angular. She leaned into the ballet’s spiky arm and head movements in the violin solo. Chun Wai Chan was actually excellent in the brief, thankless male role. Good debuts from both of them. 

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Unity Phelan and Jules Mabie in George Balanchine's La Valse
© Erin Baiano

La Valse closed the evening. This 1951 work has lost its shock value. It also takes a very special ballerina in the Tanaquil LeClercq role for the ballet not to seem gimmicky. The last dancer I saw do that successfully was Sterling Hyltin. Unity Phelan in her debut was too straightforward to pull off the mix of decadence and innocence required for the Girl in White. Jules Mabie was also rather opaque. Andrew Veyette as the Death figure was the one dancer who projected the right drama into the ballet. As always with this ballet, perhaps the best part for dance fans is the Second Waltz trio. Christina Clark, Savannah Durham and Malorie Lundgren were tall, authoritative and glamorous.

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