ABT PAIRS THARP, TUDOR; ETHAN STIEFEL ENERGIZES MR. B'S APOLLO

This article originally appeared in the Culture section of Bloomberg News on October 28, 2005.

Oct. 28 (Bloomberg) -- American Ballet Theatre, at the halfway mark of its three-week City Center season, has added two worthy revivals to its already rich active repertory.

Anthony Tudor's ``Dark Elegies'' and Twyla Tharp's ``In the Upper Room'' were well paired, evoking the polar opposites of death and irrepressible life.

Created for London's Ballet Rambert in 1937, ``Dark Elegies'' first crossed the Atlantic for ABT's inaugural season in 1940. Tudor became such a significant figure in the company that, decades later, Mikhail Baryshnikov called him ``our conscience.''

The dance depicts a small, close-knit community in the aftermath of the unthinkable -- the loss of all its children. Set to Gustav Mahler's ``Kindertotenlieder,'' a song cycle with lyrics taken from poems written by Friedrich Ruckert upon the death of his own offspring, it envisions the passage from searing grief to resigned acceptance.

World events continually make the ballet's theme relevant. And while the atmosphere of the piece is admittedly gloomy, its effect is cathartic. Tudor, an undeniable but unprolific genius of dance that's rooted in psychology, may have fewer than a half-dozen masterworks to his credit; this is surely one of them.

The stark choreography -- in which every move counts -- incorporates classical ballet and a rougher-hewn style at once archaic and modern, as well as elements of folk dance. Donald Mahler's staging, faithful and clear, reveals the beautiful bare bones of the choreography. And it has an admirable stillness and gravity.

At this early stage, though, the dancing lacks texture. It needs greater weight and it needs to look as if it's generated by deep feeling barely under control. Coaching would help, but in the end, emotional affect is the responsibility of the dancers. Adrienne Schulte and Jesus Pastor are already on the right track.

`Upper Room'

When ABT acquired ``In the Upper Room'' in 1988, observers guessed that Tharp's title referred to heaven. If so, it was surely a dancers' paradise of demonic perpetual motion.

Set to driving apocalyptic music commissioned from Philip Glass, shrouded in fog-machine clouds pierced with surreal light (a Jennifer Tipton tour de force), and rakishly costumed by Norma Kamali in zebra stripes offset by screaming crimson, the 39-minute piece assumes that operating at full throttle in a crazed range of movement languages is the route to ecstasy.

Sure enough, it brought the audience to its feet, clapping and yelling in delight. Still, there are a few of us who suspect that, as with Tharp's Broadway hit ``Movin' Out,'' the excitement this choreographer generates has its roots in rage. I found the ballet, with its steel-trap-mind structure, stunning but exhausting.

Vastly Improved `Apollo'

Ballet in repertory offers blessed second chances. ABT vastly improved its revival of ``Apollo,'' George Balanchine's earliest masterwork, for its second performance, with a new cast.

The lighting of the opening sequence has been corrected. Where the mother of the god-to-be writhes in her birth pangs -- with lashing unbound hair and pelvic contractions worthy of Martha Graham -- it is now evocatively dim instead of interrogation-room garish. And the three muses' inappropriately flirtatious smiles have been largely suppressed.

Most important, Ethan Stiefel tackles the title role with the fierce energy and imagination it deserves. Stiefel's early claim to fame lay in his technique -- its purity and its pyrotechnical skill. Recently he has made enormous strides as a thinking, feeling artist.

Wild Child

His rendition of Apollo as a bawling infant is grotesque and truly observed. Playing with the muses, he's a wild child, spurred by his mounting excitement. Coming of age, he's youth incarnate, elated by the discovery of his growing power, then grave in his assumption of divinity.

Parts of Stiefel's interpretation were way overdone, but intention-wise, they were right on target. This is often the promise of great things.

© 2005 Bloomberg L.P. All rights reserved. Reprinted with permission.