Displaying items by tag: John Macfarlane

I’ve loved the Joffrey Ballet for almost its entire lifetime (it was begotten just two years after I was). My first memories of seeing the Joffrey Ballet in performance date back to … the Eighties? Seventies? Any road, I’m not a joanie-come-lately fan of the Joffrey Ballet.

The Joffrey never disappoints. I’ve reviewed Joffrey Ballet several times here at Buzz Center Stage and my reviews reflect this: Joffrey Ballet never disappoints. But saying the Joffrey Ballet never disappoints is inadequate to the task of launching a review of STUDIES IN BLUE. I was transported; I was captivated; I was ensorcelled and entranced. In short, STUDIES IN BLUE is the finest program I’ve ever seen Joffrey Ballet perform. 

But I can’t just say that and go on about my day, yeah?  Right then: STUDIES IN BLUE, how do I love thee?

Hungry Ghosts - The Joffrey Ballet Ensemble

The program is three acts, Yonder Blue, Hungry Ghosts, and Hummingbird. I’ve seldom seen three ballets more dissimilar, yet each in its own unique way uplifted and harmonized with the other two to compose a perfectly unified program. Wowie.  

I’m going to snatch this opportunity to thank Artistic Director Ashley Wheater, CEO Greg Cameron, and anyone else who played a part in re-homing Joffrey Ballet at the Civic Opera House. I’ve been seeing and loving shows at the Auditorium Theatre since the early 1970’s, and it’s still a magnificent venue. I, however, have gone a bit to seed over the years, and find the Aud just a leeetle bit challenging to navigate. COH is far more user-friendly now I’m no longer quite so spry. Thank you!  

Yonder Blue was choreographed by Andrew McNicol, premiering in 2019. Yonder Blue’s music was composed by Peter Gregson, performed by the Lyric Opera Orchestra, directed and conducted by Scott Speck. It was delightful, joyful and vivacious but without straying into cloying or syrupy. McNichol reminds us that ‘yonder’ is a word that wobbles, tangible yet hard to grasp.  Yonder implies distance – from here to there – yet it remains imaginary, as once you reach ‘there’ it becomes ‘here’, and ‘yonder’ again withdraws. Jack Mehler (Scenic and Lighting Designer), captures this from the opening curtain – the dancers are silhouetted against a misty sky of blues which is slowly covered by a solid backdrop, creating the illusion of the horizon receding into the distance 'over yonder' as we are drawn deeper into the piece. 

We feel that shifting sense of space and place through both McNicol's choreography and the exquisite execution of the dancers. At one moment their movements are creaky, fractured, straining, and the next they float weightlessly through impossible lifts. If you know me, you’ll know I’m very partial to boy-on-boy dance; McNicol did one better for me with a perfectly splendid pas de trois featuring Jonathan Dole, Alberto Velazquez and José Pablo Castro Cuevas.  

‘Blue’ is another mercurial word, referring now to nature, now to human qualities and even emotions, from ‘feeling blue’ to bawdy ‘blue humor’. Yonder Blue encapsulates these many and disparate associations. The piece ebbs and flows, including an extended full-ensemble unison section which builds from a simple start of stationary forms to a full-stage cascade of whirling exuberance. 

An aside here: reading the program, I was marveling at the company’s diversity:  from Cincinnati to Jacksonville, Indiana to Utah, from Cuba, Japan, China, Estonia, Brazil, Russia, Australia. This diversity was visually evident during Yonder Blue, exposing all that winter-white skin!   

I was excitedly anticipating Hungry Ghosts, choreographed by Stina Quagebeur, as this is the first performance art I’ve attended that is inspired by ‘one of the most seismic human tragedies of modern times’: America’s opioid epidemic. See, opioid addiction is my thing – for 35 years I’ve been an addiction psychiatrist working on the streets with needle exchange programs and other outreach to the human beings ravaged by this unspeakable disease. Unspeakable indeed – there is no advocacy for addicts, and a death toll exceeding 100,000 annually elicits much editorial handwringing but virtually no direct action: jail is still, by several orders of magnitude, the standard (affordable/available/accessible) treatment for addiction.

Sorry, I just couldn’t hold that in. I’ll step down from my soapbox and return to Quagebeur’s far more eloquent litany. Her fittingly titled Hungry Ghosts has it all:  hope and longing, failure and despair, ambivalence and impotent rage and resignation. The disease is embodied by Anais Bueno and Hyuma Kiyosawa in a running pas de deux while the company animates the course of the disease: the swoop to dizzying heights and the inevitable plummet into the Slough of Despond. Jack Mehler’s brilliant Scenic and Lighting Design made ingenious use of vertical scrim panels to portray the addict’s isolation, the urgent necessity but lack of community; hunger and destitution and craving and loathing … all so poignantly expressed by Quagebeur’s choreography and the dancers’ mastery. 

Jeremy Birchall’s music was absolute perfection: alternately discordant and mellifluous; simultaneously strident and harmonic. I trust I’m not trespassing when I say that clearly neither Quagebeur nor Birchall learned about addiction by reading about it in a book – their intimate sophistication can only be gained the hard way. Thus, Quagebeur doesn’t succumb to the banal platitude of wrapping it all up with a pretty bow; rather, the ending reflects the ambivalence and uncertainty of the disease itself; death is the sole unequivocal outcome.  I was leaking tears by the end and was so glad for the standing ovation Quagebeur received for this world premiere performance – may her work advance to stages worldwide!

I was grateful for the intermission as I definitely needed time to recover after Hungry Ghosts, and my ballet buddy and I agreed to be underwhelmed by the final ballet, Hummingbird. I guess Hungry Ghosts rattled us enough to forget the cardinal rule: the Joffrey Ballet never disappoints.

Hummingbird - The Joffrey Ballet Ensemble

Liam Scarlett choreographed Hummingbird, and Lauren Strongin staged it a bit differently to the first two offerings. While Jack Mehler was Scenic and Lighting Designer for both Yonder Blue and Hungry Ghosts, David Finn’s lighting and John MacFarlane’s Scenic and Costume Design imparted a very different tableau for Hummingbird. Check out the photo – your eyes are not deceiving you; the stage truly is tilted up sharply at the rear, creating unique entrances and exits against the abstract backdrop.

Philip Glass’ music animates nine couples, in pas de deux and in company, into choreographed movement that comes from deep within: “Like an earthquake epicenter it ripples out… It has a human quality because it’s using everything you have.” Scarlett plays with our expectations – like an actor breaking the fourth wall with an aside to camera, he 'breaks' the dancers into unexpected movement. The ensemble entering with gracefully pointed limbs, only to crouch into a quick, flat-footed run-in-place garnered quite a few chuckles. Ending a fraught and emotional pas de deux with the dancers bent over and gasping for breath rather than perfectly poised added an emotional punch of realism.

I mentioned at the outset how these three pieces harmonized with each other - the treatment of the pas de deux by each piece offers a prime example. In Yonder Blue it was thematic, in Hungry Ghosts, narrative. In Hummingbird, the pas de duex sits somewhere in between - evocative, intertwining, and emotional as they thread their way in and out and around and through the ripples of movement around them.

Joffrey Ballet will perform STUDIES IN BLUE until February 25 on Thursday, Friday, Saturday evenings, and matinee shows on Saturday and Sunday, so you have no excuse to miss it! 

JOFFREY BALLET STUDIES IN BLUE at the Civic Opera House through February 25

VERY HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!!

Review by Sarz Maxwell with thanks for assistance from Eva Hare

Elektra must have been a Scorpio. Strauss’ intense one-act opera ‘Elektra’ is a classic tale of revenge set to some of the most thrilling music ever composed. Originally directed by Sir David McVicar at the Lyric in 2012, Remy Bummpo artistic director Nick Sandys helms the revival this season.

Clocking in at a mere one hour and forty minutes, this brief but highly concentrated opera is as exciting as it is macabre. Violence in opera is more often conveyed through music than staging, but in this production brutality flows through the set and costumes. At once the one-set stage is overpoweringly effective in creating a dark, atmospheric experience. John Macfarlane presents a strikingly unique aesthetic that heightens Strauss’ sense of horror.

Richard Strauss collaborated on ‘Elektra’ with librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal. It held its world premiere in 1909 and has continued to be crowd pleaser ever since. Strauss helped bring the psychological elements dominating literature to the opera stage. In that regard, ‘Elektra’ is a very modern opera. His composition style also suggests the foundations of modern film scores. The music of ‘Elektra’ quickly moves from soaring to dark in the space of a breath.

This is an opera that requires a strong voice and a talented actress. Luckily, this production has two. Nina Stemme makes her Lyric debut in the title role. Eliza Van Den Heever returns to the Lyric to play Chrysothemis, Elektra’s sympathetic sister. While Elektra is the lead and Stemme does an amazing job, Heever makes Chrysothemis just as integral. Together with Michaela Marten as the wicked Klytamnestra, they create a trifecta of female power. With the exception of Orest (Iain Paterson) there aren’t many male voices in this opera. That’s entirely okay as these three women dominate the stage in a most satisfying way.

‘Elektra’ is an essential opera in the same vein as ‘Faust’. For those with only a tepid interest in opera, this 100-minute production is entirely accessible. There’s a cinematic quality to the music and the staging that leaves nary an empty moment. If that isn’t enough, just wait until the stage literally gushes blood.

Through February 22 at Lyric Opera of Chicago. 20 N Wacker Drive. 312-827-5600