A sneak peek at the forthcoming book The Art of Movement.

(The Royal Ballet after Christopher Wheeldon's DGV: Danse a Grande Vitesse, while on tour in Washington, DC. Designs by Jean-Marc Puissant.) June 23 & 24 - The Royal Ballet, visiting from London, gave a spectacular and varied program of three short ballets at the Kennedy Center in Washington DC this week. Over the course of the program, the company showed its treasured past in a beautiful production of Frederick Ashton's A Month in the Country; a provocative look towards future in the aggressive Chroma, created by the company's current resident choreographer Wayne McGregor; and a solid present that seemed to combined the two viewpoints in Christopher Wheeldon's pulsing, fast-paced DGV: Danse a Grande Vitesse. I was lucky enough to see the full program twice in performance and once at the public dress rehearsal. The Royal is my favorite company and I don't get the opportunity to see them very often, so I jumped at the chance to see them all three times.. Chroma, the first work on the program, is set to music originally composed by The White Stripes, reorchestrated and reinterpreted by Joby Talbot. The sound is loud, cacophonous and heavily percussive, with recognizable tunes poking their heads through the noise every once in awhile. It works entirely for Wayne McGregor's ballet, and I really liked some of the percussive sounds that came out of the orchestra pit (I even went and found Talbot's recording of the songs and downloaded it from iTunes when I got home). (Bows for Wayne McGregor's Chroma, scene design by John Pawson.) The ballet is aggressive and stark: the stage is a giant, brightly lit white box where the dancers perform all sorts of overextended acrobatics. The women throw themselves into the men's arms, everyone bends and throws their limbs around in all sorts of gymnastic positions, and the stage is filled with all manner of frenzied, hyperactive commotion. Edward Watson and Mara Galeazzi were standouts in the mostly principal and soloist ensemble, and Sarah Lamb and Eric Underwood were also fantastic in their parts as well. Seeing it the first time, Chroma came off impressively for the sheer skill and energy of the dancers. They performed with such conviction and full-bodied force that it was simply awe-inspiring to watch. The second viewing, however, brought fewer pleasures. I noticed this time that the choreography is filled with gimmicky effects that don't really build up to much over the course of the work. Its aggressiveness seemed less bold, more noisy. McGregor has now made three works for the Royal. After Chroma premiered in November 2006, he was named the Royal Ballet's resident choreographer, and he then made Infra in 2008. Based on the BBC television broadcast of the it last year, Infra seems a much calmer, much more subtle and interesting piece, with McGregor's full-bodied style used for more subtle effects. In the spring of this year, he also staged a double-bill of Handel operas, for a collaboration between the Royal Opera and Royal Ballet. Dancers were used to convey the drama on stage while singers sang the music (a recording of the performances is scheduled to be released on DVD later this year). Before he was making work for the Royal, he had his own contemporary dance troupe, Randomdance; I have to admit that I wasn't a huge fan of his work when Randomdance appeared at UCLA several years ago. But that was just that one work, and I really liked Infra when I saw it on television. Chroma was at least interesting for what McGregor does with the dancers, and dancers like Mara Galeazzi and Lauren Cuthbertson looked truly fantastic in his work (Cuthbertson was in Infra but not in the DC performances of Chroma, reportedly due to illness). But it remains to be seen whether McGregor's style will become a larger part of the Royal Ballet's future direction. With the company's heavy back-catalogue of very classical works, it will be interesting to see how much of his very different style it will be able to absorb. Frederick Ashton's A Month in the Country is one of Ashton's one-act dramatic masterworks. It is filled with quiet, subtle emotions that ride beneath a more heated narrative melodrama, about a bored young country wife who falls in love with her daughter's tutor. Ashton, the founding choreographer of the Royal Ballet, is wonderful at communicating a character's inner thoughts and traits through quick steps and movements that are small scaled but read with burning clarity. Set to plaintive orchestral rearrangements of Chopin, danced with clear classical technique and bedecked in elaborate 19th century costumes and a full drawing-room set, Month in the Country was a decided change of pace from the comparatively wilder Chroma (though after the nearly 30-minute long intermission, presumably to allow for the large scene shift we had plenty of time to change our moods). (Wednesday night's cast of Frederick Ashton's A Month in the Country.) Created in 1976, Ashton's ballet is loosely based on the Russian play of the same name, written in the 19th century by Ivan Turgenev. Each character gets a short solo to establish his or her personality, and the dances are very Ashtonian in their quick, delicate turns and steps. The ballet movement becomes as much a part of the characters' language as regular walking and gesturing in the way that Ashton folds the dance into the drama. Relationships are very effectively conveyed in pas de deux, long looks and silences. The climactic pas de deux between Natalia and Beliaev is particularly effective: it is at once tender is tender and tense, communicating many mixed emotions simultaneously. Attraction, reluctance and yearning all bubble to the surface. Sure, there are several moments of over drama—the audience giggled at moments like Beliaev's arrival, when a thundering down chord in the orchestra heralded each character's melodramatic head turn out to the audience—but the quiet moments more than compensate. Heightening the drama is Ashton and musical arranger John Lanchberry's choice of Chopin piano music to underscore the proceedings (I found this interesting article about their selection of music for the ballet, over at ballet.co.uk). The melting, quiet cords of Chopin's Andante Spianato were the perfect accompaniment to illustrate Natalia and Beliaev's tentative embrace at the end of their duet together. The Tuesday night cast, led by Zenaida Yanowsky and Rupert Pennefather, was very good, and better overall in its acting and dancing than the Wednesday cast. Yanowsky is one of the Royal Ballet's most dramatic dancers, and she naturally fits into the role of Natalia with her taller stature and glamorous looks. With her acting ability, she was able to convey many shades of the role, and she gave a wonderful performance. Pennefather was a tall, handsome Beliaev, it was easy to see why both Natalia and her young ward would both fall in love with him. Secondary roles were filled with great character dancers: Bethany Keating as Natalia's ward Vera, Paul Kay as her son Kolia—giving a very impressive variation jumping around the room dribbling his ball—and Christopher Saunders as Natalia's older husband. On Wednesday, Alexandra Ansanelli gave her final American performances with the Royal Ballet (her very last performances with the company will occur during the company's tour to Cuba next month; see here for a story about her retirement). She sketched out the role just fine, but she did not yet seem entirely settled into it. Her Natalia was dour for most of the ballet's first half, and bit over dramatic in the second. It was not as rich a portrayal as one might have wanted, but she has only performed the role a few times so far. Perhaps more performances would have drawn her further into the role, but alas this was among her last. Her dancing, though, was soft and subtle. The pas de deux was very emotional, and Ashton's choreography seemed to have worked its magic anyway. As Beliaev, Ivan Putrov does not have the tall, immediately handsome looks that Pennefather or the role's originator Anthony Dowell both have naturally, but he compensated with polished dancing and earnest acting. Some of the secondary roles were weaker as well tonight: Jonathan Howells looked too young to be Natalia's older husband. But overall, the ballet is solidly enough constructed that the drama still came through, and the pas de deux at the end still brought sighs. Christopher Wheeldon's DGV: Danse a Grand Vitesse was a shot of energy at the end of the program. It felt like a combination of the postmodern aggressiveness of McGregor's piece and with the classical traditions represented by the Ashton. The work is performed in pointe shoes, but with contemporary leotards and an industrial age stage set comprised of wavy metal structures designed by Jean-Marc Puissant at the back of the stage— the structures looked very much like a Frank Gehry piece. (Christopher Wheeldon, left, in the white shirt, bowing with the company after DGV: Danse a Grande Vitesse.) It is set to a 1993 score by Michael Nyman, MGV: Musique a Grande Vitesse that was written to celebrate the opening of the French high-speed TGV train service, and there is a propulsive, constantly chugging sound overlaid with a slick, smooth musical line providing the melodies and atmosphere. The music dominates: it is played loudly and its constant beat is inescapable. It culminates with a drum that literally pounds away for the last five minutes, at which point, as a viewer, your brain is now moving just about as quickly as the driving beat and dancing on stage. The main choreography tends to follow the music's smoother overline, and coming in four stretchy, bendy pas de deux for four sets of principal couples. In the background, the corps runs on, off, behind the metal structures and all around the stage as the music builds and recedes, and in groups and formations they also catapult onto the stage from the wings when the music takes abrupt turns, as though the train is abruptly switching tracks. The cumulative effect is a major rush. I just sat back and took it all in, marveling at the way Wheeldon built and moved around ensembles and the principal couples. Wheeldon makes use of the stage in a very full, theatrical way, choosing not to confine himself to the formal classical patterns established by Petipa or Balanchine. Every corner of the stage is used for dancing and for effect, and they rarely line up in symmetrical, even lines – dancers leap and roll behind the scenery up stage, they enter from unusual corners and spread themselves out in unusual patters. It's a ballet that takes full advantage of contemporary notions of theater and visual space. There was ample opportunity for some fantastic performances in the principal roles. Marianela Nuñez and Gary Avis danced the third couple at both performances. Their duet is the more extended, slow and controlled of the four in this fast-moving ballet. I'll admit to loving Nuñez in practically everything she dances, and her performance in DGV was no less wonderful, with her long lines, quicksilver turns and full-bodied expressiveness. Her gaze is intense and powerful, too, making a complete performance. Avis' partnering was dazzling; amidst all of the slow contortions, he had to hold Nuñez in various awkward positions and carry her on and offstage high above his head, all with full power and full control. Also impressive: Leanne Benjamin and Edward Watson as the second couple, in an exposed, athletic pas de deux. Benjamin is another dancer who impresses me a lot, and it was great to see her on stage. Laura Morera and Stephen McRae danced this duet on Wednesday night with a different kind of attack, more emphasis on the flow and less on the role's angular qualities, but still interesting. Cindy Jourdain and Eric Underwood were the first couple and Mara Galeazzi and Federico Bonelli the fourth at both performances. Galeazzi and Bonnelli's performances were even more impressive because they had already done major work in McGregor's Chroma earlier in the evening. Looking back over the performances in three ballets performed on this tour, I love the Royal dancers' style and their on-stage intensity. They all look completely present when they are dancing, whether it is in a dramatic situation or one that is more abstract but nevertheless fully engaging. The works they performed in this mixed bill fit those styles perfectly, and the sheer variety of the work kept everything interesting for every performance. They really chose a great mixed rep to bring this time, picking the best of the company's recent work in London, and I'm really glad that I got to see it in DC live. * The company's run continues through Sunday with five performances of Kenneth MacMillan's full-evening story ballet Manon. I have seen the Royal do this work before (in Boston four years ago, when I flew out specifically to see it), so I did not stay in DC to watch—Veronika Part and Nina Ananiashvili were calling with their Swan Lakes in New york. But it's interesting to note that the works the company has brought on tour this year represents a full range of the Royal's creative heritage. They are all works created in the last 50 years, from its founding choreographer Frederick Ashton, through the narrative works of Kenneth MacMillan, to new experiments by Royal Ballet school alum Christopher Wheeldon and its current resident choreographer Wayne McGregor. Pretty remarkable to think of it in those terms. Curtain call photos by me. In-text photos: (1) Edward Watson and Mara Galeazzi in Wayne McGregor's Chroma, photo by Bill Cooper; (2) Zenaida Yanowsky and Rupert Pennefather after Frederick Ashton's A Month in the Country on Tuesday, June 23, 2009, my photo; (3) Alexandra Ansanelli and Ivan Putrov after A Month in the Country on Wednesday, June 24, 2009, my photo; (4) Marianela Nuñez and Federico Bonnelli in this 2006 photo of Christopher Wheeldon's DGV: Danse a Grande Vitesse. Nuñez danced a different role and Bonnelli danced with Mara Galeazzi during the Washington performances. Photo by Johan Persson.

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Vaslav Nijinsky, born 12 March 1889, was a Polish ballet dancer and choreographer cited as the greatest male dancer of the early 20th century. Born in Kiev to Polish parents, Nijinsky grew up in Imperial Russia but considered himself to be Polish. He was celebrated for his virtuosity and for the depth and intensity of his characterizations. He could dance en pointe, a rare skill among male dancers at the time and was admired for his seemingly gravity-defying leaps.Vaslav, Bronia and StanislavNij

Fumi Kaneko in rehearsals for Carlos Acosta's new production of Don Quixote. The Royal Ballet 2013/14 www.roh.org.uk/productions/don-quixote-by-carlos-acosta

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io, me, quello che sento, quello che sogno mentre vivo senza pelle

Format: Photograph Notes: Find more detailed information about this photographic collection: acms.sl.nsw.gov.au/item/itemDetailPaged.aspx?itemID=414341 Search for more great images in the State Library's collections: acms.sl.nsw.gov.au/search/SimpleSearch.aspx From the collection of the State Library of New South Wales www.sl.nsw.gov.au

Before the Black Swan, the White Swan and the dichotomy between them ever existed, there were pioneering 19th century ballerinas who defined different types in ballet. The most famous is Marie …