Pacific Northwest Ballet.

All Tharp

September 25-October 5, 2008

McCaw Hall, Seattle, Washington

Not every brilliant choreographer can be tapped for three ballets that, together, yield a varied, satisfying evening. Upping the ante in PNB's "All Tharp" program was that two of the three ballets were world premieres, each radically different.

The two new works are opposites. Opus 111 is supremely musical, whereas Afternoon Ball is character-driven. The first opens on two people already dancing to a Brahms quintet. They are soon joined by five other couples, all elucidating Tharp's seamless blend of high virtuosity and playful moves like running backward and heel-first strides. The ballet is even more successful than the beautiful Mozart Clarinet Quintet K. 581, her classical foray of 2000, because here she slows down to feel the quiet parts of the music. Thus the ballet dips into the valleys as well as rises with the hills. At one point, lead dancers Carla Korbes and Batkhurel Bold simply walk in circles; at another, all 12 dancers step side to side while slowly lowering one arm. Moments like these give the eye a rest before filling up again, so that by the rousing folk dance that wraps it up, we are totally with them. All the dancers handle Tharp's challenges well, with Korbes being particularly fluid, gorgeously riding the waves of Brahms' music (played live by the PNB Orchestra).

The three main characters in Afternoon Ball give off the whiff of a circus. Guest artist Charles Neshyba-Hodges, who is remarkable as a Vaudevillian with a compulsion to perform, stuffs every measure with shudders, shakes, and flirty posing. Wearing a glittery vest and torn fatigues, he is perhaps a troubled cousin to the jazzy women in Tharp's Eight Jellyrolls (1971) or the slippery, sly Baryshnikov in her Push Comes to Shove (1976). Mercurial and manic, he shows his muscles one moment and hits his head against a wall the next. Kaori Nakamura, wearing fishnets, shorts, and doll makeup, fulfills her role as a waifish coquette with precision and charm. Olivier Wevers, as an interloper, a possible drifter type, appears menacing at times, but also has the most expansive dancing.

After much manipulation and crossing of paths, these three never really connect with each other. The minimalist score by Vladimir Martynov doesn't support Neshyba-Hodges' shenanigans, and the characters do not illuminate the music--until a ballet couple (Ariana Lallone and Stanko Milov) enters and the music turns classical.

Neshyba-Hodges' desire suddenly clarifies, and he dances harmoniously with them. When the ballet couple disappears, the original three return to their chaotic non-interactions. Finally, after more torturous head banging, Lallone reenters alone, this time in angelic white. Neshyba-Hodges lays his head on her shoulder, and together they walk toward a bright white light downstage left. It's an overwhelmingly stunning moment. Neshyba-Hodges' hyperkinetic heroic antihero seems spun right out of Tharp's own personality, and the purity of the ballet couple, like the purity of the sole ballet beacon in Deuce Coupe (1973), represents an ideal that seems to be a healing balm for her.

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Considering the confusion of Afternoon Ball, Nine Sinatra Songs comes as a relief and a feast. Beautifully paced, at one with the music, it's a showcase for brilliant partnering with touches of glamour and humor. Jordan Pacitti was super spunky in "Something Stupid," and Sarah Ricard Orza had a velvet fluidity in "All the Way." Louise Nadeau, daring and delicious in the off-the-shoulder red dress for "That's Life," provided the glamour.

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