Light: 12/22/14

Variation: Hwy 63 North

Of course all the light

is in the sky,

and reflected off the wet road

and in the headlights and taillights

smeared long

on the pavement,

but the heat—that is in the grass

along the sides of the road,

tall and tawny and gold.

It is three days before Christmas

and snow would be nice,

draped clean and sparkling

across these hills.

Maybe
this is a variation 
on winter,

the same way the Nutcracker pas de deux

is a variation on a G major scale—

it may have started off as a riff

but what you get in the end

is a melody you can feel 

throughout your body—

a melody you can flow with

over and through these hills—

these hills that after seven years

have become like home

(and maybe home, too,

is a variation.)

Subscribe to Dreamer by Email

'Tis the Season

Forgive me if you are tired of this music. I am not. Many Decembers of my childhood meant a chance to see “The Nutcracker,” and if I was lucky, “Hansel and Gretel,” as well. So far in my adult life I’ve had the chance to play in the pit for each of them only once, and I loved every moment. Maybe if I’d played them more I would be bored with them, but maybe not. Like grilled cheese sandwiches and butterscotch malts, I suspect some things are just good forever. In my world, at least.

This still slays me.

As does this.

(I checked.)

Duke Ellington’s version of the Nutcracker Suite was new to me (fun vintage promotional video here), but I enjoyed that immensely, as well. And look—an accompanying picture book with CD:

More Nutcracker resources here and here.



Subscribe to Dreamer by Email

Collaboration

Ballet for Martha: Making Appalachian Spring, by Jan Greenberg and Sandra Jordan, illustrated by Brian Floca, Roaring Brook Press, 2010

Not only do I get to play “Appalachian Spring” next weekend, I stumbled across a picture book about it at our local library. Then, thanks to YouTube, I watched Martha Graham perform the ballet. What a treat.

To be honest, I’ve played a lot of music without knowing the story behind it. For one thing, I haven’t always been interested in doing the research on top of practicing my part. Besides, it is perfectly possible to play a piece well without digging deeply into its historical or theoretical context. But I can’t think of a single time that knowing more has detracted from a work, either.

This book details the collaboration between dancer and choreographer Martha Graham, composer Aaron Copland, and artist Isamu Noguchi in creating the ballet “Appalachian Spring.” From struggling with the script and characters, to going back and forth about the set design, to finding the right notes, the best order of scenes, and the most expressive steps and movements, the authors guide readers through the complete creation of this ballet, from the barest bones of an idea to the first performance. It strikes me as a very good example of the creative process, and I like how both the text and illustrations capture the feel and mood of both the music and the dancing.

My favorite part of the book, though, is the final sentence. After taking readers through the premiere performance, the authors say,

…the life of Appalachian Spring goes on after that great night to become an American favorite, to be danced year after year. New dancers will take their turns to move to Aaron Copland’s music, to interpret Martha Graham’s steps, to dance through Isamu Noguchi’s set. And the collaboration will be created anew.

It would be easy to glide past those last seven words without much thought, but there’s so much packed into them. And the collaboration will be created anew. Classical musicians are not creators in quite the same sense that composers, artists, and writers are. They play a special role, taking something that has been created by someone else and bringing it to life in performance. Their role as interpreter means they are bound to somebody else’s creation, and they walk a line between being faithful to that other person’s intent and making it their own, “creating it anew” every time they play it. Then, too, there is the relationship between conductor and orchestra, and even between individuals in the orchestra, as they work together and respond off of one another. It becomes a living collaboration on all sorts of levels.

Beyond all that, too, there is the play between a piece of music, or a work of art, and its context. Now that I know some of the story behind “Appalachian Spring,” now that I have seen a video of Martha Graham dancing to the music, I will be playing with new understanding. Chances are there won’t be any noticeable changes in what I do, but I will get to interact with the music in a new way, with new understanding. I will step deeper into the collaboration myself, and keep company with some amazing people.

Subscribe to Dreamer by Email

The Firebird

I love The Nutcracker, but there are many other works out there that also bring together literature, art, music, and dance. If you want to broaden your children’s experience with ballet, try looking into the Firebird.

The Firebird is a character from Russian folklore—a mysterious, magical bird with fiery glowing feathers, often the object of a quest, that can bring both blessings and curses to those who find it. These sumptuously-illustrated books tell some of those traditional stories:

 

In 1910, Sergei Diaghilev commissioned Igor Stravinsky to write a ballet score for a new version of the tale, one that combined elements of the Firebird with an unrelated character, a sorcerer named Katschei. This was the first collaboration between the two men, and an important work from the influential Ballets Russes

Rachel Isadora and Jane Yolen have both written picture books that tell the story of the ballet, with illustrations that weave together the dance and fairy tale elements. In the ballet version of the story, Prince Ivan tries to capture the Firebird, but then releases her. Out of gratitude she gives him a feather from her tail, telling him to use it to call on her in time of trouble. She later returns to help him rescue ten princesses who are held captive by the evil magician, Katschei.

Of course, the music is an integral part of the work, so try listening to the Suite (a concert-version that is shorter than the full ballet) or even the entire ballet (about 40 minutes long, I believe.)

The Firebird Suite conducted by Pierre Boulez

A recording of the complete ballet, conducted by Valery Gergiev









Or, if you can find a DVD performance, even better--there are several out there:

A DVD containing a performance of the complete ballet, along with Petrushka and Scheherezade, Bolshoi Ballet, 2002

Backstage

Backstageby Robert Maiorano and Rachel Isadora, illustrations by Rachel Isadora, Greenwillow Books, 1978

One of the things I love about playing operas and ballets is the atmosphere backstage. There’s so much magic—not just in the performance itself but in all the inner workings, in everything that goes into a performance. My parents often brought my sister and I along with them to performances when we were kids. We went through the stage door with them, followed them as they unpacked their cases, and accompanied them into the orchestra pit. From there somebody would push a chair up to the edge of the pit and help us climb up and out to find our seats. I loved it. The whole backstage experience was as much a part of the show for me as the performance itself.

This little gem of a book is out of print, but it captures so much I just had to share. The writing is spare; the illustrations do most of the telling as a little girl named Olivia goes to pick up her mother at a rehearsal of the “The Nutcracker.” She goes all over the theater, providing readers with detailed glimpses of what things look like behind the scenes (much more than I saw as a child, in fact.) The black-and-white illustrations are bursting with detail that I’m guessing most ballet-goers never get to see. If you can get hold of this book, it is a real treat.

For more Nutcracker goodness from last year, check here and here.

Resources for Children: Ballet

I’m positive this isn’t a complete list, but there’s still a lot here. There’s no doubt that ballet is a beautiful art form. Add in all the great music and fairy tales (Sleeping Beauty, Firebird, Nutcracker, Swan Lake, Coppelia, etc.) and you’ve got perfect material for dreamers. Let me know what I’ve left out—I appreciate the feedback.

Alvin Ailey by Andrea Davis Pinkney, illustrated by Brian Pinkney









Backstage Robert Maiorano and Rachel Isadora

Ballet Bunnies by Joan Elizabeth Goodman







Ballet of the Elephants by Leda Schubert, illustrated by Robert Andrew Parker






Ballet School by Naia Bray-Moffat and David Handley









The Barefoot Book of Ballet Stories by Jane Yolen and Heidi E. Y. Stemple, illustrated by Rebecca Guay








Dance of the Swan: A Story about Anna Pavlova (Creative Minds Biographies), by Barbara Allman, illustrated by Shelly O. Haas








The Firebird by Jane Yolen, illustrated by Vladimir Vagin









Firebird adapted by Rachel Isadora

The Harlem Nutcracker based on the ballet by Donald Byrd, text and photography by Susan Kurklin








I Dreamed I was a Ballerina by Anna Pavlova









Isadora Dances Rachel Isadora









Jake the Ballet Dog by Karen LeFrak, illustrated by Marcin Barnaski









Lili at Ballet by Rachel Isadora









Lili on Stage by Rachel Isadora









Lili Backstage by Rachel Isadora









Max Rachel Isadora







My Ballet Class by Rachel Isadora








My Ballet Diary by Rachel Isadora

Not Just Tutus Rachel Isadora









The Nutcracker by Susan Jeffers









The Nutcracker Ballet by Vladimir Vagin









On Your Toes: A Ballet ABC Rachel Isadora









Opening Night by Rachel Isadora

The Random House Book of Stories from the Ballet retold by Geraldine McCaughrean, illustrated by Angela Barrett








Swan Lake: A Ballet Story adapted & illustrated by Rachel Isadora









A Very Young Dancer by Jill Krementz