Results tagged “lucienpostlewaite”

Depending on how quickly we post this, there are two more showings of the Pacific Northwest Ballet Laugh Out Loud Festival's Program B today, at 1 and 7 p.m. Tickets are $20-$80. We don't know about you, but with all the sleet and snow this weekend, we've been craving some silly indoor festivities. This fills the bill to a T.

We'll tell you right now, there is just not going to be a better Valentine's Day-ish gift than this Roméo et Juliette.

Do dancers hibernate in winter? There's an explosion of dance activity coming up as January draws to a close. Had we but world enough and time, we'd go to all these shows, but time's chariot won't permit us to make up all the stops. Here's the wealth you have to choose from:

Two-thirds of Pacific Northwest Ballet's "All Balanchine" show is surprising and exciting. Showcasing three ballets spanning the career of George Balanchine, the leading American ballet choreographer of the 20th Century and famously the co-founder of the New York City Ballet, PNB manages to both remind audiences of how adventurous dance can be, while at the same time reinforcing the sense that major ballet companies have to carefully balance the experimental with the traditional in order to keep audiences coming.

Ballet Imperial: it's tutus and tights and corps-de-ballet clockwork, but Balanchine's choreography is nothing to sneeze at. Maybe just that one scissor-kicky thing we secretly call "the Snoopy Dance," and therefore have trouble taking seriously. Otherwise, if the dancers were wearing skis, it'd be a black diamond run. This one shows up in the All Balanchine program that starts this weekend.

As we mentioned the other day, Seattlest was very excited for the PNB production of Carmina Burana, but we left a bit perplexed and frustrated. To start, we enjoyed Mark Morris' Pacific, a light and dreamy piece that found our thoughts wandering in a pleasant way about halfway through, befitting of a day spent listening to the ocean advance and retreat while pretending to read a book. It was a short and "limited" (to borrow from Seattlest Michael's summation) composition, but the perfect exemplar of Morris' work: seamless integration of ballet's technique and precision with the freedom and rule-free whimsy of modern dance. We love that he breaks ballet traditions by having group pieces with three men and one woman, all performing the same choreography (sure, later in Carmina Burana we have a woman with three men but stereotypically she's a harpy and they are pining for her), and the costumes were simple and perfectly suited to the choreography.