The Grand Prix of Dance
Cabrera and Kaniskin
A GRAND PRIX nowadays is thought of as a sporting event and, in the case of race cars, a fast one. For Ballet Grand Prix, which performed last week at the Gaillard, the concepts of ‘sporting’ and ‘fast’ certainly applied. Some 30 dancers raced through 22 pieces in 90 minutes with no breaks other than the single intermission which was extremely welcome to at least one reviewer desperately making notes in the dark.
It was a dazzling, mesmerizing display that featured acrobatic jumps, multiple (30- and 36-count) pirouettes, and some mind-boggling, body-bending movements, in particular by the fabulous male dancer, Rubinald Pronk. But what became steadily apparent as the evening progressed was the French, nineteenth-century origin of the word ‘grand prix’, which meant ‘great or chief prize’. Why? Because this performance was about much more than athleticism and speed.
Charm and Talent
The most charming piece on the program was “Oops” (choreography by Viktor Plotnikov, music by Amilcare Ponchielle) danced by six American girls aged 14 to 16. Delightful modern steps were set, in excellent contrast, to classical music in a montage that can best be described as a (Disney) Fantasia-like story. Each girl had a red scarf that morphed from curtain to scarf to belt to veil—to name just a few—throughout a sequence of amusing transitions. Kudos to the choreographer and composer, and to the directors for having such young dancers bring out the natural innocence of this piece.
14-year-old Tyler Donatelli in “Harlequinade”
In “Flames of Paris” (which premiered in Leningrad in 1932, with music by Boris Asafiev and choreography by Vasily Vainonen), thirteen-year-old Miko Fogarty and fifteen-year-old Sam Zaldivar proved that they are two names to watch. Still young for dancers, and clearly with a lot of room for developing their artistry, they both showed great physical maturity and technique. She, Miko, is very poised for 13, and I can’t wait to see Sam as he gets (even) faster, stronger, and more expressive. Unfortunately, I could not find any adequate pictures of either of them.
Having seen Fogarty and Zaldivar do the classical “Flames” in the first part of the evening, I hardly recognized them as they opened the second part with a modern piece called “Remix” by choreographer Viktor Kabaniaev set to the music of Phillip Glass. The loose, more open movements allowed both dancers to show their range, precision, quickness, and speed (ah, to be fifteen). But there was something more. In the modern “Remix” these teenage dancers looked like veterans at the height of their technical skills. Yes, there was still room for them to bring more depth of expression to the steps, but they otherwise met all the demands of the choreography and music.
Compared to “Remix,” the classical “Flames” seemed old-fashioned and stilted. On closer examination, though—especially after having seeing several other contrasts of classical vs. modern during the evening—it became apparent how classical is more demanding to master. Modern choreography, with its staccato steps, short extensions, and fast transitions allows a dancer to camouflage small imperfections that cannot go unnoticed in the longer, more extended, more disciplined poses of classical ballet. In the latter, you have to maintain technique and artistry at the highest level. One cannot make up for the other, and without both the dancing comes off as weak and incomplete.
Mikhail Kaniskin & Elisa Carrillo Cabrera dancing “In the Middle Somewhere Elevated”
Muscular Artistry
Of course, the same can be said about the best of modern dance, but I did not really appreciate the truth of this until seeing Elisa Carrillo Cabrera and Mikhail Kaniskin—both from the Berlin State Opera Ballet—dance “Carravagio” (choreography by Mauro Bigonzetti, music by Bruno Moretti). After their dance I wrote in my notes: “best modern piece I have ever seen.”
These two are beautifully paired in a combination of steely strength, feline grace, and artistic eloquence. Their pristine technique also evinces the influence of classical training: hers in Mexico, his in Moscow. All of these elements together give their dancing a rare blend of poise, fluidity, and power that seems tailor-made for “Carravagio.” It is almost a slow-motion piece, so the movements require an exact balance of grace and stamina to look effortless while being carried out so slowly. You might say it is a muscular masterpiece that has to not look overly physical.
Cabrera and Kaniskin also did a few novel lifts which, although they could be labeled ‘modern’, were as poetic as they were abstract. In fact, the lifts, and especially the overall unity of the piece (something I often find missing in modern dance), reminded me of the works of twentieth-century Spanish painter, Joan Miro whose compositions are abstract, yet full of expression; dispersed, yet organized; simple, yet ever-so-thoughtfully composed.
Another reason I liked “Carrravagio” so much was its superb sensuality. Often times, when dances are sexually explicit—and even when there is something beautiful about it—the sexuality is overstated. This can make an audience uncomfortable, as though they are having to ‘watch’ two people intimately engaged, as opposed to experiencing an artistic expression of lovemaking. In this case, the choreography, the music, and these two dancers presented us a with a tender, sweet, melodic sensuality that was as beautiful as I have seen on stage.
When these two danced again near the end of the second half (in William Forsythe’s “In the Middle Somewhat Elevated” with music by Thom Willems), they were again stunning. Again they managed one unbroken choreographic line—complete unity—throughout the piece.These are special dancers with a unique combination of talents.
Drew Jakoby & Rubinald Pronk in “One”
Ferocious Confidence
Two other dancers that need to be mentioned are Drew Jakoby and Rubinald Pronk (Jakoby and Pronk). You will not see a more flexible male dancer than the Dutch-born Pronk nor a more powerful female dancer than the American Jakoby. They are tall, their energy is erotically commanding, and they dance with ferocious confidence. I found Pronk’s first-half solo, “L‘effleure,” impressive, even though the abstract choreography (by Annavelle Lopez Ochoa) could not match the serene spiritual intensity of Antonio Vivaldi’s choral music.
Nevertheless, when Pronk joined partner Jacoby for “One” in the second half of the program, you could feel the audience’s energy and attention rise. This pair seemed to taunt us while impressing us with their lust for dance and a unique style of presenting it. They also looked like they were having tremendous fun. I suppose you would, too, if you were born to dance like that.
The Best of the Best
Throughout this satisfying evening at the Gaillard, I thought to myself more than once that I could easily be seeing this in New York or Los Angeles. You know, those places that get the best of the best. And here they were in Charleston, thanks—once again—to Jason Nichols and the Charleston Concert Association.
Learn more about Ballet Grand Prix. Learn more about upcoming Charleston Concert Association events.
Acknowledgments: photos of Cabrera and Kaniskin © Gene Schiavone. And apologies to the other fine dancers who were too many to mention.
