BOSTON BALLET: THE YOUNG MASTERS

At the Schubert Theater

Through Feb. 28

Peanut butter and jelly, Bonnie and Clyde...the Boston Ballet and Lyle Lovett? Why not? Why not could very well be the catch phrase for "The Young Masters;" Boston Ballet's first performance of the season comprising the works of three young, innovative choreographers. This is ballet turned inside out, rooted in classical technique but branching into a startling diversity. Influenced by sources as disparate as Beethoven and the Austrailian Bush, the the main link between the three pieces was their inventiveness.

The theme of innovation came clear from the start with Daniel Pelzig's "Nine Lives: Songs of Lyle Lovett." The odd juxtaposition of ballet with Lovett's mellow country blues and twangy tunes created a comic atmosphere that was magnified by the black leatherish pants worn by the men and the attitudes adopted by the dancers in their dramatization of the lyrics. Whether pretending to light a cigarette or making an appropriate facial expression, the performers were certainly into the piece. Classical ballet seemed to become one with line dancing in the livelier segments, and interspersed throughout the piece were beautiful duets performed to heart-wrenching country ballads.

I happened to be sitting next to a woman who had once danced with the Boston Ballet. She commented that of course she preferred something more classical, but that this was a nice change. She also said that she felt that the choreography made the piece--that with different choreography it would be very easy for such a piece to look simply ridiculous. While I agree that the choreography was effective, and that it played off of the music and lyrics very well, by the end of the piece, it seemed terribly repetitive.

Certain portions of the piece when the entire company was on stage were particularly well choreographed, the space being used in interesting ways. The transitions between segments of the piece were also well done, a challenge when the piece is made up of relatively short numbers. It would be all too easy for the piece to become disjointed and choppy, but the movement never stopped. Fun is the best word to describe a ballet piece comprised of songs with titles such as "I've Been to Memphis" and "She's Hot to Go". The performers seemed to really be enjoying themselves, and I know that the audience did since it is not often that one laughs out loud at a ballet performance.

The second piece, "Maelstrom", choreographed by Mark Morris, was an abrupt change from the previous piece. Performed to a Beethoven Trio, the piece was quite classical compared to the previous one. With romantic costumes and a delicately clouded sky as a backdrop, the piece was classically Mark Morris, with its use of repetition, bringing themes and elements of the first two movements into the third, resulting in a harmonious cyclical effect.

Though more classical, there were subtle quirks throughout. Portions had slightly disconcerting discord--dancers doing the same movements but a count or so apart from each other. Throughout the piece were sections of movement that had flexed feet and rigid, straight arms, something not usually seen in ballet. In general, the piece had clean, straight lines. Classic movements would stop in midmovement, and instead of being completed as expected, would somehow change. One particularly playful moment had male dancers lifting their partners into the wings and throwing them as the audience gasped, only for her to be caught by another dancer in the wing.

The ending of the piece was extremely powerful and sudden, with the male dancers throwing themselves on the floor in an action repeated from the second movement of the piece. At times the piece was so busy and full of movement that it became impossible to decide where to look. Overall, the piece was classically beautiful but with enough innovation to be refreshing at the same time.

The third piece was, once again, a huge leap in an entirely different direction. Called "Below Down Under," and choreographed to the buzzing, eerie sounds of the Australian didgeridoo by Laszlo Berdo, one of the company's own principal dancers, this was without a doubt the most exciting and breathtaking piece of dance that I have ever seen.

The curtain rose on a large white piece of fabric covering the entire stage and lifted to various heights at different places by cables. Throughout the piece, cables were raised and lowered, and the dancers moved under the fabric. The stage was lit with bright orange light, and the dancers costumed in nude colored unitards, grass skirts, body paint, headbands and feathers. The atmosphere and movement was very tribal, primitive, fast paced and sexual. Despite the primitive appearance, the choreography still has its roots in classical ballet, which resulted in a unique effect.

Together, the three pieces comprised a performance from which it was impossible to walk away without a sense of awe, both for the power of choreography and the power of human movement. It would be difficult to put together a more diverse and enjoyable dance performance, appealing to dance connoissours and the dance illiterate alike.