Dancing Dreams Come to Earth at Jacob's Pillow

James writes:

Jacob's Pillow, the legendary summer dance festival in Becket, Massachusetts founded in 1933, has had a stirring start to 2014, with dance that stands on its own two feet. On the second stage of the Doris Duke Theatre, Dorrance Dance tapped out a sold-out two-week run. Meanwhile on the main stage at the Ted Shawn Theatre, New York City Ballet principal dancer Daniel Ulbricht directed several teammates from his NYCB squad in the enigmatically titled "Ballet 2014."

The purpose of Ballet 2014 was to present ballet of the present, with choreography from the past ten years. Introducing the evening, the Pillow's executive director Ella Baff promised "a range of works of many different choreographers, many of whom are most talked about in the ballet world."

NYCB has made big strides bringing the classical Balanchine aesthetic up to date, elevating contemporary dance with performers who are down to earth. A polished series of online video shorts, sponsored by AOL, recently put the dancers in the framework of reality TV and gave them a family-focused, all-American spin. Far from the ethereal, detached, and sometimes crazed reputation of ballet overseas, NYCB has all the knee-slapping, group-huddle wholesomeness of "Hey Let's Put on a Show."

Which is what Ulbricht did at the Pillow, and it was a hit. The first half presented five ballets that explored the romance (and longing) of pas de deux. Here was NYCB at its best, with dancers who were engaged with one another (if not actually married), the hometown kings and queens center stage at the summer-camp social. For me the first piece, "Furiant" (2012), danced by Teresa Reichlen and Robert Fairchild with choroeography by Justin Peck, was the least engaging. The flowing woodsy outfits were right for the setting, but Reichlen lacked the charged spirit, the twitters of expression, to connect fully with Fairchild. On this, I should say, I was in disagreement with my date, my four-year-old balletomane daughter, who most preferred the bright quality of this piece set to Dvořák's "Piano Quintet No. 2."

Up next (in reverse order from the program) was "Pas de Deux from Two Hearts" (2012), danced by Tiler Peck and Tyler Angle with choreography by Benjamin Millepied and original score by Nico Muhly. Now here was a marquee lineup of contemporary dance if there ever was one. Muhly's music had the saccharine emotion of a high-school mixtape, but in the sticky woods it seemed right. Millepied's dance is aqueous, slow-moving, a nighttime dip that ends with two steadies embracing on the lake shore. Peck and Angle wore swimsuits, and with her fluid, mellifluous movement, Peck was a dripping dream diving into Angle's arms.

"Liturgy" (2003), danced by Rebecca Krohn and Craig Hall with choreography by Christopher Wheeldon, was the most self-consciously modern dance of the evening. Krohn was a specter floating through Hall's oaken branches, the treble and bass strings in fugue. The following world premiere of "Opus 19. Andante," danced by Emily Kikta and Russell Janzen with choreography by Emery LeCrone, was pleasant but ultimately the most forgettable dance of the night, although it had a goose-bump ending.

And finally came the "Sunshine" (2013), danced by the leader Daniel Ulbricht with chorgeography by Larry Keigwin. The work was set to the familiar tune of "Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers. It was regrettable that the music wasn't live, as shown on the pillow's online preview of the evening. And it should be said that recorded dance performances in general have a terrible problem with over-amplification, and my ears were not spared during the night's run. Nevertheless, Ulbricht danced a remarkable pas de deux as a solo. Absent a partner, he radiated his athletic energy and puffed up chest to the audience in a way that called to mind the original hardest working man in show business, James Brown. 

Daniel Ulbricht, Tyler Angle, and Robert Fairchild in "Fancy Free." Photo: Christopher Duggan.

After intermission came the dessert: "Fancy Free" (1944), choreography by Jerome Robbins with music by Leonard Bernstein. The work is now even better known for its adaptation into the musical and movie "On the Town." Everything about this ballet of three sailors in the City on shore leave is quintessentially American and ideal for NYCB. Angle, Ulbricht, and Fairchild exude a natural camaraderie, and Georgina Pazcoguin and Tiler Peck are just right as the savvy purse-swinging ladies they meet outside the bar. As opposed to a pas de deux, "Fancy Free" is a three to two, with three sailors vying for two dames, and all the beer-drinking braggadocio that goes along with that. It is remarkable that "Fancy Free," according to the archives, had not been performed at the Pillow since 1949. Perhaps there just wasn't quite the right team of dancers to pull it off until now.  

The Jacob's Pillow Dance Festival 2014 continues in Becket, Massachusetts through August 24.

The Spiritual Home of the Hudson River School

South Facade of the main house at Olana. Photo: Stan Ries 

James writes:

The spiritual home of the Hudson River School is Olana, the homestead of Frederic Church, located on a 250-acre hilltop outside Hudson, New York. Thanks to the long-term efforts of the Olana Partnership, Church's theatrical house, designed by Church and Calvert Vaux in a colorful blend of Middle-Eastern styles, joins the grounds in a remarkable state of preservation. With sweeping views of the Hudson River and the Catskill Mountains, Olana is best appreciated in summer, when it feels like you are walking inside a lush nineteen-century landscape.

Bell Tower, south view of river from inside Bell Tower. Photo: Andy Wainwright

In the 1960s, after a two-year campaign to save it from developers, Olana passed from the Church family to the shared public-private stewardship of New York State and what is now The Olana Partnership. Church's art and artifacts remained in situ, making it one of the country's most well-preserved artist residences, and certainly the most singular. Since then the Olana Partnership has worked tirelessly to bring the ornate polychromed building back to its original splendor. It has also sought to restore the overgrown grounds and preserve the viewshed of this historical perspective on the Hudson. 

 

 Court Hall, Main House Olana. Photo: Andy Wainright

The next steps for Olana will be to turn the house back into a home and working farm—a home for the ideals of Church, a living destination emerging from a relic, with all the living sights and smells. The Olana Partnership have done a remarkable job restoring and preserving the soul, the permanent collection, the house and grounds. Now the task is to reveal it as a living beacon of art, culture, and preservation.

 

View of the Main House from Across the Lake. Photo: Melanie Hasbrook

 Some thoughts on the house and grounds: Today the building is approached from a parking lot at the top of the hill behind it. This gives the sense that you are visiting an artifact and not a home. The access road also has cars cutting across the property and through the viewshed. By depositing people at the top, in back, they are less likely to explore the grounds below. This current parking lot could be converted into a site for a much-needed respite and watering hole while car parking could be relocated down the hill, encouraging people to explore the grounds, walk up, and approach the main house from the front. Such a change may help restore sledding in winter, a favorite activity that I hear is no longer allowed on site. Olana could also offer a trolly to the top, adding to the charm of the landscape. The house museum should also be arranged to accommodate visitors who choose to experience it outside of the small, wonderful, but often sold-out docent-led tours (which now need to be booked in advance).  

View from Crown Hill, Olana. Photo: Melanie Hasbrook

Finally, I would love to see more involvement with contemporary artists. What a thrill it must be for artists to engage with these 250 acres. There could be residencies. I would be fascinated to see how artists working in a range of practices interpret the context of Olana: from the abstract artists of Bushwick to realist-revival painters to classical and modern dancers. They could mix on the hillsides with farmers, walkers, preservationists, children making crafts—a living tableau.

Landscape with Sculptures

View of the South Fields at Storm King, all works by Mark di Suvero.  Photograph by Jerry L. Thompson

James writes:

Great sculpture needs to breathe. For more than fifty years, The Storm King Art Center has been showing modernist sculpture in the breathtaking landscape of the lower Hudson Valley. The nonprofit, founded and opened to the public in 1960 through the efforts of the late Ralph E. Ogden and H. Peter Stern, transformed the farmland of a country estate into a foremost site for examining the relationship between natural and man-made form.    

Mark di Suvero Pyramidian, 1987/1998 and Beethoven’s Quartet, 2003. Photograph by Jerry L. Thompson.

The seasonal center in Cornwall, New York, near West Point, Bear Mountain, and across the river from Beacon, is a little over an hour drive north of New York City. The trip is best appreciated by heading up the riverfront roads on the picturesque western side of the Hudson. Directions and bus schedules are available here.  

Dan Budnik David Smith, South Field, Terminal Iron Works 

As the long-time director David Collins explained to me, the inspiration for much of what appears at Storm King  came from Terminal Iron Works at Bolton Landing, the rural New York studio where the sculptor David Smith often kept his work outside like crops in the fields. Many of these sculptures became early aquisions for the Center.

Mark di Suvero Jambalaya, 2002-06. Photograph by Jerry L. Thompson.

In part thanks to commissions by Storm King, some of the most iconic works of the sculptor Mark di Suvero are now centerpieces here.

Mark di Suvero Frog Legs, 2002, Mozart’s Birthday, 1989, Neruda’s Gate, 2005. Photograph by Jerry L. Thompson.

Alexander Liberman Iliad, 1974-76. Photograph by Jerry L. Thompson.

The outdoor environment, and curatorial taste, has limited the range of sculpture in the Storm King collection, which is heavy on metal abstraction of the second half of the twentieth century. Some can seem overwrought and stuck in the 1970s.  

Maya Lin Storm King Wavefield, 2007-2008. Photograph by James Panero

But in recent years the Center has seen sculptors take on the landscape in new ways, such as Maya Lin's Wavefield, and, a favorite, the snaking stone walls of Andy Goldsworthy.  

 Zhang Huan Three Legged Buddha, 2007. Photograph by James Panero

To me a foray into contemporary Chinese art with work by the theatrical Zhang Huan (who is also the focus of this summer's exhibition) seems like a misstep. You can read more of my thoughts on Zhang here. To its credit, this artist's large Three Legged Buddha, with its incense-burning toes stomping a head into the ground, conveys a palpable sense of corporeal discomfort.  

Sculpture safari! Calder spotted on the ridge. 

What would I like to see next at Storm King? An increased engagement with the range of artists taking a new look at form and nature, from Giuseppe Penone to Rachel Beach. A "Storm King biennial" would serve as further reminder that there's more to contemporary sculpture than Koons, Koons, Koons.