Here is Arlene Croce from “A Balanchine Triptych”:<P>“It’s true that <I>Jewels</I> isn’t about jewels…Even as a metaphor, <I>Jewels</I> doesn’t quite work. By 1967, Balanchine’s style had evolved beyond the kaleidoscopic manipulation of strict classical forms for which he was chiefly known. He was less interested in the chiseled severity of footwork than in the weight and shape of the body as it posed or plunged in cubic space…<P>“Yet “jewel” imagery is not neglected; it depends on where you sit. From high in the house, the loops, strands, and pendants that emerge in the changing pattern of the corps may be seen in all three ballets. The weakest choreography of the evening is the section that comes the closest to foursquare geometrical precision—the opening of “Diamonds”….From orchestra or first-ring level, it is boring to look at—a plodding ensemble waltz that lasts forever. Seen from above, it shows you diamonds, diamonds, diamonds. This is Balanchine as Busby Berkeley, thinking up ways to eat up space on the new State Theater stage.<P>“Balanchine took his titular metaphor seriously enough, but he took even more seriously another kind of imagery—one that seems to have come to him from the imaginary world of ballet….”Emeralds” and “Diamonds” are each a conflation of <I>Swan Lake</I> and <I>Raymonda</I>; they bring back the medieval pageantry and chivalry of those ballets, complete with their glow of post-Wagnerian mythomania. “Rubies” is a sharp (not to say malicious) commentary on the anachronistic survival of the myth into the twentieth century…Both “Emeralds” and “Diamonds” are about queens and the courts they rule; in “Rubies” the royalty is like that of a deck of cards; and it is all part and parcel of the toy kingdom of ballet.”<P>“But even a casual glance at <I>Jewels</I> shows it to be composed not of three unrelated ballets but of two matching panels and a flagrantly dissonant middle panel, which, however, keeps a connection with the two others by extending and upending their formal logic. Without “Rubies,” Balanchine must have reasoned, <I>Jewels</I> would be a bland evening…. “Rubies” refracts instead of reflecting; it does its job in the total scheme of things, and it may be the evening’s masterwork.” (1983 rpt 1987)<P>There’s more, but I especially like how Croce sets “Emeralds” and “Diamonds” in the context of a kind of medieval world view. But not the medieval of mead halls, Lancasterian vs. Yorkist mayhem, or the Black Death: sordid affairs all. I think she’s talking of the world of beautifully illuminated parchment, <I>Morte D’Arthur</I>, possibly Agincourt. <P>Yet, I’m not sure that I see as strongly as Croce does that those 2 ballets share so similar a spirit. There is an ease about both ballets and an esteem for the past that “Rubies” doesn’t share. It’s there in the grace, carriage, and deportment. Its smooth movements speak of etiquette and <I>noblesse</I>; its emotions of nostalgia, romance, even a hint of regret.<P>But, if “Emeralds” is an “elegant reverie,” it is certainly a private one. In the second movement, “Fileuse: Andantino,” with a secret smile the ballerina shows us first one hand than the other. It’s a game only for two.<P>By contrast, “Diamonds” is all pageantry. Even in the grand “Diamonds” pas de deux Jowitt sees royalty—Odette and Siegfried—and not, say, Franz and Swanilda. Even if the corps’ Busby Berkelely patterns aren’t really distant kin of <I>Ballet Comique de al Reine</I> and the <I>Salle Bourbon</I>, they share an affinity, the same braggart spirit—these dancers are our company … enjoy.<P>“Rubies” however sets the others off. Sparks fly and the pas de deux does smolder—but not as Jowitt might suggest with the panache of Howard Hawks or Preston Sturges. In the first movement, “Presto,” is there really the pressured speech of “His Girl Friday”? Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell?<P>Perhaps “Rubies” has an affinity for the spirit of word games and riddles. Not literally of course, because nobody’s asking anything. It’s just there might be a challenge and almost a dare in the way the soloist ballerina’s arms and legs are manipulated by the corps men, or is it the other way around?<P>These are just my random thoughts before the show. I’ve often thought of Vanessa Zahorian as dancing “Rubies” and Joanna Berman in “Emeralds.” How nice to see them cast so.<BR>
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