Menlowe Ballet’s Spring Program, April 5

The Menlo Park-Atherton Center for the Performing Arts is a multi-windowed structure with audience seating a little over 500. Situated on Middlefield Road, it is an ideal venue for a small company with good sight lines, the elevated seats close enough so one doesn’t feel consigned to the Gods.

For Menlowe Ballet’s spring offerings, two were by Michael Lowe, artistic director, the middle ballet Guest Dennis Nahat’s pas de cinq from his 1985 production of Swan Lake. Lowe’s spring premiere Transcendance commenced the program, his tribute version of Ravel’s Bolero closed it.

His Chinese-Korean heritage has provided Lowe with considerable inspiration. I saw his Emperor and The Nightingale, a piece where a boy who witnesses a murder; Bamboo ;
Transcendance. Lowe here moved from charming, Asian-flavored sketches to very short red cheongsams on several women bar inhabitants, vying for the attention of three men. One woman, enraged over a man’s change of partners, knifes her rival who clutches her side, slowly expiring. There is a blackout before the stage is graced by women in white and the victim is suddenly also in white, Chinese traditional color of death. The lover appears; groupings indicate the Great Beyond possesses a suitable aura of bliss.

A Lowe choreographic characteristics is a light touch, deftly administered. Here, however, the situation seemed stock, the development of conflict overly simple. Cheongsams in red, the color for brides and happiness in Chinese lore, provided the principal clue to the location; most of the women possessed light hair and, of course, Western facial contours. Lowe essentially is too decent a person to choreograph low life and result again seems to skim the surface, va stock plot.

As one of Oakland Ballet’s principal dancers, Michael Lowe danced in Marc Wilde’s interpretation of Maurice Ravel’s Bolero and the staging of Bronislava Nijinska’s take on the score. LOwe’s Tribute to brought both works together with a large cast. Happily it included Jenna McClintock, one of Oakland Ballet’s last principals in its earlier form. Her assignment was slow reaching its center-stage movements center stage, but I found myself looking using her as my focus, not heeding manifestations of the two vastly different interpretations. With contrasting interpretations vying with each other simultaneously, I chose to concentrate on a reliable focus. Even when one group was primarily active, attention could not bridge the contrast effectively. I wanted to see one interpretation at a given time, the two coming together only at the end.

The principal charm was Dennis Nahat’s pas de cinq from his 1985 production of Swan Lake, Act I. Ever logical he viewed the princesses as part of a lengthy visit, not just the Act III waltz. This Nahat version has the princesses present in Act I, dancing with him for the first time with the prince paying due attention to them, not yet distracted by Odette. This interpretation worked very well, the dancers charming, the prince was Maykel Solas, guesting from Ballet San Jose, behaving like a prince, pirouettes, jetes et al. Hopefully, more of such gems will appear on future programs.

The company is beginning to cohere nicely, student use handled as a deft soupcon to the major dancers. If the latter can round out assignments enough to remain in the Area, a problem, in today’s climate Menlowe Ballet’s future looks bright.

Menlowe Ballet, November 15

Menlowe Ballet had what I counted as its fifth performance November 15 at the Menlo Park-Atherton High School Auditorium, a spacious stage, appreciably raked seats, with some futuristic qualities to its ceiling and lobby. Outside, a food truck allowed us to wolf several bites before the program began.

Artistic Director Michael Lowe once again invited an area choreographer to contribute to the program, titled Lineage. A wise move, it enabled dance lovers with memories to revisit choreography not current in any company’s repertoire. Last fall it was Betsy Erikson; the spring performance I did not see featured Viktor Kabanaiev; this fall season featured Ronn Guidi, Oakland Ballet’s founder with his Trois Gymnopedies to Erik Satie’s memorable, limpid composition, and the pas de deux in his reading of Sergei Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet. Lowe himself was featured in a reworked Serei and an extremely clever tribute to two versions of Maurice Ravel’s Bolero, the Bronislava Nijinska and the Marc Wilde versions, mingled with his own inventive comments.

Before further comments, let me say the company has accomplished several strategic moves promising a healthy history: Lowe as choreographer, Sarah-Jane Measor as his associate with Julie Lowe as Ballet Mistress have formed a healthy trio and Lisa Shively as executive director. They have the Menlo Park facility as a home theatre; judging from last night’s attendance, a healthy and enthusiastic audience of dance lovers, parents and students. Measor’s direction of Menlo Park Academy of Dance assures a steady stream of students. Between her and Lowe’s invention their inclusion in choreographic offerings is not only stellar, but skillful.

Serei seemed to have been expanded since I first saw it in 2012. Again featuring a koto preface played by Mariko Ishikawa, it evokes the memory of an Asian woman reflecting on various aspects of past lives. I guess Mariko Takahashi’s skillful performance suspended on the silks was designed to convey an ability to see into her past lives, danced by Mariko Ishikawa, Lauren Mindel Julie Giordano, and later by Aurora Frey, Coreen Danaher, Emily Kerr and Megan Terry. Gregory de Santis proved to be an attentive partner, his samurai qualities gentler than the usual two-sword swashbuckling swagger. I was put off by the use of the shakuhachi to singularly strong, almost strident choreography. The shakuhachi was used for meditation and begging by Zen Buddhist monks, allowed for secular performance only with the Meiji Restoration of 1868. Aurora Frey and Damon Mahoney appeared in a glittery unitard appearance in the Kingdom of Koi; this seemed to my questionable memory to be an addition to the original choreography. But the use of the students and their formations spoke well of Measor’s abilities.

Trois Gymnopedies, staged by former Oakland Ballet principal Joy Gim, featured Coreen Danaher, Emily Kerr and Jacob Kreamer with the white unitard costumed by Mario Alonso. Ronn Guidi’s choreography spoke to the correctness of Enrico Cecchetti, particularly in the port de bras and phrasing. I would like to see all three dancer explore the flexibility of the torso, creating a fuller rubato between culminating postures to the musical phrase.

The balcony scene from Ronn Guidi’s Romeo and Juliet was staged by Abra Rudisell, herself a most memorable Juliet. Friday night’s Juliet, Terri McGee-Kelly was shy, introverted, minimally responsive to Gregory de Santis’ thoughtful, if adolescent ardent Romeo. McGee-Kelly’s shoulders and upper torso were simply mute to love’s surging emotion, though Guidi’s choreography depicted those incredibly precious movements with sensitivity and understanding.

Tribute, Michael Lowe’s incorporation to two interpretations of Maurice Ravel’s Bolero, was an amazing “kitchen sink” inclusion of styles and habits managing to work to that relentless score, played by musicians Angelo Bundini, Philip Brezina, Allison Lovejoy, Tarik Ragib , Rob Reich, Paul Stinson and Carolyn Walter. Ronn Guidi later remarked that Lowe caught the essence of both Nijinska and Wilde in addition to Lowe’s own comments. These additions included sauntering, gymnastics [Lowe trained as one], floor stretches, groupings, pitos [finger snaps] swiveling hips, solo variations. Something happened concurrently all over the stage, bare except for the circular table [Nijinska] and barre [Wilde], bringing the evening a rousing finale.

Oakland Ballet’s Diaghilev Tribute

Rita Felciano, Claudia Baer and I attended the May 11 matinee of Oakland Ballet’s Diaghilev Imagery at the Malonga Casquelord Theatre, Alice Street in Oakland.  The venue itself is a surprising tribute to East Bay cultural interests in the ‘Twenties. A building devoted to women artists; it  provided both studios and residences at a time when the vote and non-domestic expressions for women were still novel and doubtless self-conscious.  It currently houses Dimensions Dance Theatre and a bevy of African-related dance groups rehearse and perform there as well as Axis Dance Company.  Early in its performing history Company C also utilized its 500 seat capacity.

Artistic Director Graham Lustig invited Amy Seiwert to reimagine Bronislava Nijinska’s Les Biches, created to the sprightly Francis Poulenc music. Moses was assigned Carl Maria Von Weber’s Invitation to the Waltz to reinvent Spectre de la Rose, Michael Fokine’s choreography for Vaslav Nijinsky and Tamara Karsavina.  The woman in this extended waltz conjures the image of the spirit of the rose, mingling it with her romantic inclinations towards a young man she met at a ball.

Seiwart made no attempt to deviate from Nijinska’s original libretto if she did soften it by rendering the two male athletes as partners to the two young girls with the hostess having a lover deserting her for the Girl in Orange, said female originally The Girl in Blue.  This deviation in the plot gives rise to a wonderful pas de trois of the hostess with the two men.  The sofa remains, a screen and a closet has been added, both hinting at possible deviation from the  display of heterosexual pairing.

As The Hostess Emily Kerr had the opportunity to display her lithe body before donning a blue dress and that rope of pearls, and Sharon Wehner’s Girl in Orange displayed her share of moxie with nimble pointe phrases sharply accented and executed.  Bryan Ketron as the unreliable lover of the hostess delivered some of the crispest pirouettes in Seiwart’s reinterpretation.  I think Seiwart did well, considering the indelible sarcasm  with which Nijinska mocked affluent French society in the mid-Twenties. Seiwart is innately gentler.

Robert Moses was handed the most difficult possible assignment; trying to reinterpret a ballet which Fokine fashioned for Vaslav  Nijinsky and Tamara Karsavina.  Moses naturally wanted to modernize it, calling it Bloom; one can’t blame him for that.  But to the lush 19th century waltz, Moses  expected two shoeless dancers to evoke the perfume of a dream demanding floating, aerial movement.  To compensate, Moses relied on his amazing capacity for arm movement at the expense of partnering. “We applied my working process to the traditional choreographic and musical structure. In doing so we applied equity to the roles, shifted the ballet and added a layered lexicon. Connie’s costume design is simple and reflects an updated sense of the male/female idea…in her dream she has power, agency and desire on which she acts.  In her dream he is more than a fantasy.”

The costume in question was a skimpy, short white tunic of stretch fabric worn by Ramona Kelley; Vincent Chavez was nude to the waist and wearing jeans.  Partnering was minimal. Lifts were almost non existent and could have contrasted clearly with Fokine’s still traditional choreographic approach. (Manuel Legris can be seen on You Tube in the original and displays a 19th century approach to partnering.) Where was the lexicon? I simply did not feel Moses’ statement and the dancing cohered,

Finally, Graham Lustig undertook Igor Stravinksy’s Pulcinella Suite, taken from Pergolesi manuscripts, and a tale linked to the Italian commedia dell ‘arte tradition.  Because the dancers appeared masked, the plot was displayed on a board in front of the top of the curtain and its ins and outs conveyed the sense of commedia dell arte, although the historic work choreographed by Leonide Massine never remained in the Ballets Russes repertoire.

Two young girls, Prudenza and Rosetta, are enamored of Pulcinella, a street artist who is dressed in flowing white shirt and trousers with huge black buttons and peaked white hat.  Florindo and Cliovelio, their ardent suitors, have a hard time, until they decide to disguise themselves in Pulcinella attire, inspiring success with the two young maidens. Their disguise enrages Pimpinella with Pulcinella who has to feign death to be reunited with her. The Doctor and his wife are part of the action and a dithering Dame Diamentini.

Naturally this is all very tongue in cheek, enhanced by masks and the narrative board;  the sense of confusion, plot and counter plot are pretty apparent. With lively music, Pulcinella made for an excellent closer.  As Pulcinella Gregory De Santis showed promise, but needs to prune his energies and sharpen his portrayal.  In general there was a feeling of frothy white with ruffles and busyness, where posture and precision could emphasize the wit more cogently.  I think the original costumes were sufficiently heavy that the froth had to be provided by the characterization.  It was evident, however, Lustig knew the tradition thoroughly.

One interesting note was the name of Michael Levine listed as an understudy.  With career credits chronicling staggering experience one wonders why he wasn’t at least featured in Pulcinella.

In utilizing the Casquelord Auditorium for it spring season, Oakland Ballet may have solved its problem of  venue size and cost.  One hopes it settles in to the space for other seasons.

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Maria Tallchief

The death of Maria Tallchief with the number of comments about her on Facebook as well as Jack Anderson’s wonderful obituary in the New York Times reminded me of a Sunday in Los Angeles some time between 1948 and 1950 when I was “up close and personal” with Maria Tallchief and George Balanchine.  That is to say, they inhabited a studio where I took Sunday classes.

While I attended college, I used to take the red line into Los Angeles on a Sunday morning, transfer to another bus out West 6th Street to a stop at a corner where there was an elaborate set of pseudo-Moorish buildings with two second story turrets.  I don’t remember whether the ground floor was occupied by a drug or a chain grocery store, but one had to go around the corner where there was a space with stairs leading upward left and right with some sort of identifying space in the middle above the concrete pavement between the two sets of stairs.  The location was not littered, but it did look unkempt.  I vaguely remember the stairwell was standard grunge.  As I climbed the right hand set of stairs, I was invariably conscious of relative dryness, the Los Angeles sunshine, and its being exaggerated by city cement.  It struck me as anomalous for classical ballet pursuits, both of the time and the technique.

I wish I could remember what the door was like, but music was wafting from behind Miss Frey’s studio door.  Rozelle Frey had been a member of Anna Pavlova’s company; for how long I don’t know and I know of no source regarding the history of her training.  I was told an injury had shortened her career.  When I met her she was visibly blind in one eye, with slender legs and arms, but quite a matronly torso in front of a wonderfully erect back.  She manicured her nails with a sort of pink or mauve blush, thick, and a bit haphazardly applied, but their use was authoritatively graceful along with a chin raised from her back and neck to emphasize the final position students should attain in a barre exercise.

As I opened the door, dancers were moving diagonally across the space from upon stage right where the barres ran the length of the floor.  Three of them and my eyes popped, recognizing Natalia Clare and Oleg Tupine whom I had seen that season with the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo.  The third, youthful, dark haired and olive-skinned, I heard called “Nicky,” – Nicolas Magallanes.  In front of me almost like a narrow corridor’s distance was a small man calling allegro combinations; it was George Balanchine. At Miss Frey’s side, looking at either photos or a picture book, was Maria Tallchief, making periodic comments to Miss Frey.

The class concluded shortly after my arrival and the four dancers and Balanchine departed.  After changing and en route to the barre Miss Frey announced that she gave them dinner the night before and that Balanchine had complimented her on her cooking.

I don’t remember making any remarks other than murmuring admiration.  But even in my pre-21 country naivete, her disclosure floored me.  Lacking running water, Miss Frey had to go to the common lavatory at the landing between the two sides of the second floor  for water, anything for cooking, dish washing, laundry or daily personal rituals.  Her kitchen consisted of a space tucked behind curtains on lines strung across part of the alcove where her record machine, dining table, chairs and some form of cot  resided, her clothes sequestered in a nook behind another curtain.  There may have been some cabinets on the wall near her hot plate and a small refrigerator obscured by yet another curtain.  As living conditions, to say nothing of entertaining, it sticks in my memory of the quiet steel of this woman surviving in the uncertain dance climate of the late  ‘Forties and early ‘Fifties in Southern California.

My study with Rozelle Frey was never extensive nor intensive.  College claimed my wavering focus; the travel expense as well as classes, plus my late start and unfashionable body type conspired to limit any impulse to throw fiscal prudence to the wind for a career so marginal at the time.  Miss Frey, who counted Mia Slavenska among students, was still the real deal.  I learned, source unremembered, that she had taught Maria and Marjorie Tallchief for two years as their studies moved from Ernest Belcher before turning to Bronislava Nijinska, and Nijinska’s connections.  Since I have not read the Tallchief biography, I don’t know whether Miss Frey was included in its pages.  In the accounts I have read, Nijinska seems to receive the major credit for the training of the Tallchief sisters.  Certainly Miss Frey never seemed to have enjoyed the string of students any acknowledgement might have fostered.

Janet Collins biography mentions Miss Frey in the context of Slavenska’s teaching at Miss Frey’ s studio and there is a Google photograph of Miss Frey pictured with Lois Ellyn, one of her students who danced as a soloist in Mia Slavenska’s short-lived ensemble.

Not altogether a complimentary reflection on the Tallchief career and modus operendi; but it’s truthful; it might have been otherwise.

Menlowe Ballet’s First Season Finale

Menlowe Ballet completed its first season October 5-7 at  San Mateo’s Bayside  Center for the Performing Arts. East of Highway 101,  it takes a knowledgeable driver to know where to turn off.  Carlos Carvajal is one such driver; we made the October 7 matinee,  featuring Betsy Erickson as guest choreographer, two works by artistic director Michael Lowe.  The company comprises seventeen members; Executive Director Lisa Shively and  Michael Lowe have been careful to arrange a program allowing sufficient time for the dancers also to appear in Oakland Ballet’s Nutcracker.

Michael Lowe’s Serei was first on the program.  Set to John Williams’ music, the ballet was preceded by a brief Koto performance by Mariko Ishikawa, setting the tone for Mariko Takahashi’s aerial work on a scarlet scarf hanging vertically on center stage.  Movements wound both upward and down before classical vocabulary appeared, but Takahashi made space within the music for effective pauses.

She was joined by four other dancers; in the third section dancing with Maxim Lin-Yee, a tall, impressive  newcomer, his presence a bit like  Lee CunXin.

The ballet was supposed to deal with Takashashi’s reflections and the degree of fulfillment she experienced in each.  I didn’t feel this  was fully realized choreographically, though the dancing was excellent, the atmosphere absorbing.  Ayako Takahashi was credited with costuming, Ron Ho with the lighting design.

Betsy Erickson’s Songs to Richard Strauss was premiered in Oakland in 1990, five couples, six selections.  Mario Alonzo designed the costumes, differing hues for each couple: cream, grey, purple, red, lavender or light blue.  Patty Ann Farrell was the lighting designer.

Erickson is attracted to flowing movement; during her dancing career, she was distinctive in adagio. I remember in particular her dancing the adagio in Symphony in C.  She remarked  she is influenced by water and wave patterns,  evident in sweep of the port de bras, particularly when the women on pointe were supported  by their partners; at times the entire ensemble’s arms circled like a variation in T’ai Ch’i.

Menlowe Ballet’s finale was a local production of Surfside, originally created for Richmond Ballet, Virginia, 2002. Not quite an update on Todd Bolender’s Souvenirs or Bronislava Nijinska’s Le Train Bleu, it shared the insouciant qualities of the young, their energies on the make, set to the music of Sandy Nelson and The Ventures.  Paul Stinson and John Baker furnished a jazzy pre and postlude.

Utilizing Menlo Park Academy of Dance students, bright, eager, it left the audience convinced it wanted more.

Menlowe Ballet’s spring performances will be April 20-21, 2013 at the 492 seat Menlo -Atherton Performing Arts Center, ideal for the company’s current size.  Nicolai Kobanaiev is guest choreographer.

Words on Dance with Joanna Berman October 22

Deborah DuBowy has taped interviews with dancers mostly by dancers for nineteen years in San Francisco, usually including stills and sometimes taped footage of the dancer’s signature roles.  This year’s Isadora Duncan Dance Award Ceremony recognized this  record with its modest certificate and “dustable.”  Her presenter was Edward Villella who will be the subject of the next interview, scheduled for the Paley Center for Media, New York City, March 11, 2013.  September 15, 2013, capping the second decade of endeavor will see Maria Kochetkova interviewing Carla Fracci, the memorable Italian ballerina.

October 22 DuBowy arranged for another memorable interview, which probably won’t ever be seen visually because the Vogue Theatre on Sacramento Street simply did not possess stage lights.  Nonetheless the audience not glued to the third presidential debate  got to hear Joanna Berman answer the adroit questions posed by James Sofranko and see snippets of Berman in Rodeo, Swan Lake, Company B, Damned and Dance House.

The comparatively brief interview was preceded by nine films of varying length, some of them gem like.  It commenced with Natalia Makarova dancing with Mikhail Baryshnikov to a Chopin Mazurka, part of a lengthier exposition created by Jerome Robbins for the January 17, 1972 Gala to raise money to keep the New York Public Library Dance Collection open.  Both dancers were at the peak of their careers, their elevations impressive, their elan unmistakably Russian.

A considerably edited interview with Yvonne Mounsey this past June was next, conducted by Emily Hite, capturing in speech Mounsey’s performance qualities.  It was wonderful to see Mounsey wrap hercomments around her favorite role, the Siren in the Balanchine ballet Prodigal Son. I saw her dance when Jerome Robbins was the Prodigal; her understanding of the predatory female remains undimmed.

A brief film by Quinn Wharton followed. Mechanism, had a text relating to machines  and featured two Hubbard Street Dance Company members, Johnny McMillan and Kellie Eppenheimer. Her balance, barefoot on demi-pointe, was cool, controlled, mind-boggling.

This was followed by Miguel Calayan’s short, Prima,  featuring Shannon Roberts (she has a new name Rugani) with  modest tiara, romantic length tutu topped by a royal blue tunic. Dancing  around a spacious vintage ballroom whose location I’d love to know, the footage captured her feet in releve, her body in grand jete and turning attitude, at the barre, covering space, ending in a wheel chair with a doll-sized proscenium stage and puppet dance figure.

Carolyn Goto, former principal dancer with Oakland Ballet, created a DVD of Ronn Guidi in connection with the Legacy Project, affiliated with the Museum of Performance and Design.  Careful editing allowed the audience to see segments of three important Oakland Ballet restagings: Michel Fokine’s” Scheherazade,” Eugene Loring’s “Billy the Kid” and Bronislava Nijinska’s “Les Noces.” In addition Guidi  was seen evaluating Sergei Diaghilev’s benchmark influence on the arts.

Following intermission, San Francisco Ballet member Luke Willis introduced “Freefall,”a partially completed film created with his brother. It featured a charming child, Pauli Magierek playing her mother, and two dancers in space, Sean Bennett for certain and perhaps Kristine Lind; it seemed to explore a child’s fascination with potential future romance.

The choreographic  process between Jorma Elo and Maria Kochetkova in the creation of a solo for her  in the 2012 Reflections tour came next, an interesting exploration of the  making and interpreting of a choreographic vision.

Judy Flannery, the Managing Director of the San Francisco Dance Film Festival, brought trailers from this year’s Festival and the news that September 12-15, 2013 will feature the Festival’s collaboration with an international dance component, information which has yet to make it to the Festival’s website.  She also introduced Kate Duhamel’s “Aloft,” with Yuri Zhukov’s choreography for six dancers,  photographed on the northern edge of the Golden Gate Bridge.  Credited as being inspired by the America’s Cup sailboat races and the qualities of the swift vessels, the dancers moved against whipping wind, gravelly ground with the City in the distance as backdrop.

A final break ensued before Joanna Berman and James Sofranko followed the brief glimpse of Joanna in “Rodeo,” and her entrance as Odette in “Swan Lake,” with Cyril Pierre as Siegfried. Berman remarked that Christine Sarry warned her against emoting at the Cowgirl and in “Swan Lake,” she felt exposed and uncomfortable, enjoying Odile more because she, essentially, didn’t
have to be “pure.”  Berman liked story ballets because sa narrative provides meaning to the work,the why the preference for  “Serenade” and “Dances at a Gathering” to the more abstract repertoire  created for New York City Ballet.

Berman had studied at Marin Ballet with Margaret Swarthout before a year at San Francisco Ballet led to a six month apprenticeship before joining the corps de ballet.  What wasn’t mentioned was Berman’s attending the International Ballet Competition in Moscow, the youngest entrant to date, being eliminated in the second round because of a stumble.  Returning with her coach, Maria Vegh, there was a solo performance in celebration at the Marin Civic Center before Berman moved over to San Francisco Ballet School.

Joanna Berman’s dramatic gifts shone in “Company B”, “Damned” and “Dance House.”  I did not see her in the Possokhov reading of the Medea tragedy, associating it with Muriel Maffre and Lorena Feijoo.  Berman’s warmth, a quality Paul Parish calls “creamy,” at odds with Medea’s decision, made the brief footage that much stronger.

Berman now periodically sets “A Garden” for Mark Morris and works by Christopher Wheeldon. She spoke concisely about the responsibility of realizing the choreographer’s intent, a focus she followed when she danced.

James Sofranko also asked her about her post S.F. Ballet guest appearance with ODC, dancing with Private Freeman to choreography by Brenda Way.  When he asked Berman about the arc of her career, she replied she had no desire to go elsewhere because of the calibre of the company and the presence of her family.

The evening reminded one of the elusive quality of comfortable familiarity that seems to have seeped out of many dance occasions with the generational shift. It was good to enjoy the sensation once more.

Carlos Carvajal to Stage Work in St. Louis

Native San Franciscan Carlos Carvajal, whose initial dance experience was with Chang’s International Dancers before studying and performing with San Francisco Ballet and spending a decade in Europe, has been invited to stage a work in St. Louis. In September he will mount a work for the  Kuchipudi Art Academy of Dance of St. Louis which will be performed October 29.

The Art Academy was founded in 1980 by Sujata Vinjamuni, a student of Padmavibushan Vempati Chinna Satyam, the ne plus ultra of Kuchipudi dancing.  Also schooled in Bharata Natyam, Vinjamuni was honored this spring from the Government of Andra Pradesh for her devotion to Kuchipudi.  The Academy’s website mentions its practice of giving the program proceeds to worthy causes in the St. Louis area.

Carvajal mentioned that the commission found him remembering Golden Rain, created for his company, Dance Spectrum.  “It has an interesting movement base, but only a springboard; of course the music will be different.”

After returning to San Francisco, Carvajal danced once more with San Francisco Ballet, was its ballet master, choreographing Totentanz and Genesis before leaving to start his own ensemble.  While in Europe, Carvajal danced first with the Grand Ballet de Marquis de Cuevas, The Bremen Opera and the Opera in Bordeaux.  He was a soloist with the Grand Ballet when Rudolf Nureyev made his European debut in Bronislava Nijinska’s production of Sleeping Beauty.  Currently, Carvajal is co-artistic director of World Arts West’s Ethnic Dance Festival