​Sekou McMiller has composed a love letter. And it’s one that anyone with an ounce of appreciation for music and dance can sign onto.
 
And most of the audience did at the world premiere of McMiller & Friends’ “Urban Love Suite,” an affectionate celebration of the African diaspora and the music and dance it inspired. Seen on Wednesday night at Jacob’s Pillow, this haunting, infectious, and flashy creation is honest and authentic, but not without its glitches.
 
There was trouble with the sound system, that at times pushed out scratchy reverberations, and it was frustrating that the floor was not properly miked for the solitary tap dancer, Time Brinkley. His steps often fell silent.
 
But the freewheeling improvisational nature of the program – that was sprinkled through the loose creation – captured the imagination. Truly, one couldn’t anticipate what would come next as the program felt like a stream of consciousness happening where singular artists in their fields from a horn players and drummers along with traditional African and Latin dancers let freely fly their talents. Nothing was held back.
 
The program begins with an evocative solo played on piano by Camila Cortina Bello. Lit by a single spotlight on the dark stage, she is transporting the audience back to a time and place where now only blood memory inhabits. Nayah Merisier languidly appears and moves across the stage as the vessel for the time and place. But just like in the real world – the music and dance are embellished and expanded. And soon the entire theater explodes with a line of versatile dancers and musicians along the aisles. They show that all styles embrace the foundation that Bello and Merisier establish.
 
Once the performers race to the stage, “Urban Love Suite” swings into jazz, contemporary and Latin music and dance, emphasizing the influence that the diaspora has on it all.
 
McMiller himself is a pleasure to watch. In spats, representing the past, moves through the time reminding audiences, with his shoes, that history is the foundation. Eventually, all of the dancers are wearing spats – united in their understanding and appreciation for the ancestors who created the joyous rhythms that we hear and move to today.
 
Some in the ensemble deserve acknowledgement for their extraordinary roles in creating the atmosphere where this message could thrive. Among them is Gleisis Estrada who has the chops for the trumpet and heart with her plaintive voice.  Also, Charlie Garcia is a standout, commanding the stage with his regal presence and crystalline moves.

While “Urban Love Letter” needs to be refined before it hits New York stages, the piece is headed toward a good place – letting us all know that a seed well-tended is healthiest when it is allowed to grow in diverse directions.

​Choreographer Stephen Petronio has always been a dancemaker who wears his heart on his sleeve and centers his mind on the topical. Thus, his post-modern sensitivities delve into his honest assessment the issue du jour. And while that might mean his older works may feel out-of-date, his newer works always touch an audience where they are living at the time.
 
One such work is his apocalyptic “American Landscape,” a company work from 2019 that is onstage at Jacob's Pillow this week. Set to a backdrop of photographs by Robert Longo, the piece explores America’s hand in its own destruction and that of the world.
 
But before I go there, I want to say that this is an important week for Stephen Petronio Company as it is its last. After 40 years, the company is taking its final bow in the venerable Ted Shawn Theatre at the Jacob's Pillow.

To mark the occasion, Petronio performs a new solo of his own making. Dancing and speaking, he tells the audience he is coinciding the end of his company with the end of western civilization. While the audience chuckled at that, it was clear there is an intense fear sweeping across the culture that Petronio categorizes as an attack on the LGBTQIA+ community and women, to name just two.
 
Yet this solo was also a wonderful baring of his artistic soul. He tells the audience, as he twirls in his iridescent suit, that he called himself the bastard child of Trisha Brown and Steve Paxton who taught him their post-modern style of fluid, sequential and spherical moves. However, as those who know Petronio, these moves translated on his body are sharper and ultimately center in on society’s deprivations. And this is where it goes in his solo “Another Kind of Steve.”
 
It's the ideal entry into “American Landscape,” in which Petronio transports audiences to a time where dewy forests and frothy oceans are lush and alluring. And it’s a place where an unfurling American flag oversees it all.

But as the piece progresses, the dancers struggle to maintain their peacefulness. The string composition, by Jozef van Wissem and Jim Jarmusch, grows more urgent, the dancing become less supportive, more aggressive. In the end, with many of the dancers down on the floor, a tattered American flag flies. The stark message struck a nerve.
 
That could not be said for Petronio’s “Middlesexgorge” from 1990, which felt dated. At the time, the piece, to music by Wire, was radical. But today, the sexy dance with a mix of numerous partnerships is ho-hum.
 
The 1969 “Chair-Pillow,” by Yvonne Rainer, who served along Brown and Paxton during the yeasty 1960s post-modern movement in New York, did not seem old at all. That piece for the company had dancers playing with chairs and pillows is a silly and simple, but entertaining affair.
 
The night opens with “Broken Man” from 2002. On Wednesday night, Larissa Asebado intrigued as the limp defeated executive. Here’s one piece, probably inspired by 9/11, that did not lose its punch through the years.
 
Finally, Petronio’s company performs a 2005 duet, “Bud.” Deniz Erkan Sancak and Nicholas Sciscione are perfect reflections of each other in a dance that likely hinted at the gay revolution that followed.
 
Petronio’s voice was always commanding so it is with sadness that his company’s journey comes to an end. Hopefully, in future years, his powerful commentary will be broadcast on an even larger stage.

From left, Kennedy Falyn Cassada, Ricardo Graziano, Sierra Abelardo and Bel Pickering of Sarasota Ballet performed in the world premiere of Jessica Lang's "The Lorenz Butterfly" at Jacob's Pillow on Wednesday night. (Photo by Christopher Duggan)

​I admit, I’m prejudice. When I hear of a regional ballet company, one not hailing from a major city, I usually dismisses it as an assemblage of second-rate performers.
 
But boy was I wrong with Sarasota Ballet. This feisty Florida ensemble is made up of fine dancers with a unique standing in the American ballet landscape. For one thing, they dance works by Sir Frederick Ashton, the founding choreographer of London’s Royal Ballet. Seeing those works is a rarity on this side of the pond.
 
The company, directed with a keen eye for detail by Englishman Iain Webb, is hardly stuck in the past though. It performs new works too and this week, they bring both of their English sensibility and a world premiere to Jacob’s Pillow. The program of two Ashton ballets and Jessica Lang’s colorful “The Lorenzo Butterfly” left audiences breathless with their beauty, spunk, and can-do charm.
 
Lang, who is the company’s artist in residence, created an unpredictable work that she based on two of her vibrant abstract paintings, which served as a backdrop, and chaos theory. The title refers to mathematician Edward Norton Lorenz’s notion of the butterfly effect – how something small like the flapping of a butterfly wing can cause a seismic shift. All these ideas created a yeasty brew for 10 dancers who created bold symmetric tableaux juxtaposed with off-kilter directions that startled.
 
Dressed in flowing of costumes by Jillian Lewis, bright palettes for women and earthy tones for men, the dance was set to an invigorating Robert Schumann’s piano composition. The music, which shifted its tones in unexpected ways carried the dancers across the stage, and seemingly beyond, in buoyant couplings. There were also a few uncomfortable lifts that look like they needed to be ironed out before becoming seamless. But for the most part, the dancers flung themselves into each other’s arms with exciting abandon.  
 
There was a lot to see in this four-part dance and certainly worth taking a second look to take in all that Lang envisioned.
 
The program opened with Ashton’s piece d’occasion “Birthday Offering,” a work from 1956 that commemorated the 25th anniversary of the Royal Ballet. To music by Alexander Glazunov, the company resident guest principal and superstar Misa Kuranaga (currently a member of the San Francisco Ballet) took on the role that Margot Fonteyn danced all those years ago. She glowed in yellow as her partner, Ricardo Rhodes, supported her in this sparkling salute to royal elegance.
 
Ashton’s 1940 “Dante Sonata” offered up the choreographer’s range. The piece, made during the Blitz of London, pitted good and evil and demonstrated that no one wins in war. The dramatic work, to Franz Liszt piano pieces as orchestrated by Constant Lambert, tore at the imagination with its broadly stroked scenes of corruption and death.
 
Sadly, it feels like the world has returned to those hostile times. But Sarasota Ballet offers a respite – one that also creates a focus on color, drama, and sophistication.

Peter Walker leaps skyward in Justin Peck’s "Mystic Familiar," which made its Saratoga Performing Arts Center premiere on Friday afternoon. (Photo by Erin Baiano)

Justin Peck does it again.
 
While “Coppelia” is dominating New York City Ballet’s four-day stay at Saratoga Performing Art Center, and little can outdo its pageantry, Peck’s latest ballet has much to savor and is recommended.
 
The 2024 work, which made its Saratoga premiere on Friday afternoon, is part of a contemporary triptych titled “Robbins, Balanchine, Peck.”  And while George Balanchine’s “Stravinsky Violin Concerto” looked shockingly sloppy and Jerome Robbins’ “In G Major” was mildly pleasant, Peck’s “Mystic Familiar” redeemed the day. The work is one that leaves hearts pumping as it thrusts its viewers into the beauty and violence of the natural world. It was both an ode and a warning.
 
The piece, set to a commissioned score by Dan Deacon, reminds one of Peck's “The Times Are Racing.” As in both, Peck creates a savory stew of intricate and fast house steps peppered with bursts of ballet’s propulsive jumps and spins.
 
Peck surveys the five elements – air, earth, fire, water and ether with the dancers personifying their essence. Air floats by as dancers in blue tiptoe across the stage – their faces obscured by frills made to look like clouds.
 
Taylor Stanley, one of the company’s most engaging dancers, is earth. He turns and falls, to rise again. His power is undeniable as he eyes the audience, daring them to challenge his strength.
 
He, however, is burned away by fire, led by a daringly wild Peter Walker. He along with Preston Chamblee, Brittany Pollack and the ensemble blaze across the stage that is lit in reds and yellows in a steamy design by Brandon Stirling Baker. This is the climax of the ballet with dancers moving back and forth like an accordion, seemingly by an invisible hand of destruction.
 
Blue water, with Naomi Corti and Ruby Lister, calms the scene just for a moment until gray ether overtakes the stage. The full company, bouncing on the balls of their feet as the curtain comes down, transforms the world into something unfamiliar.
 
The geometric scenery by Eamon Ore-Giron, with its astral rays darting outward, adds to the spectacular universe that Peck creates.
 
Water was also a theme in Robbins’ “In G Major,” to Maurice Ravel’s music. Here, Unity Phelan and Tyler Angle, romp at the beach with a dozen cohorts who act as the waves. They bob and tumble along the shores in a summery salute that is enjoyable.
 
Balanchine’s “Stravinsky Violin Concerto,” however, was disappointing as the central duets looked under rehearsed. Two, Davide Riccardo and Jules Mabie, stood in for Aaron Sanz and Walker leaving the fiery Mira Nadon and charming Emilie Gerrity stumbling to hit and articulate all of the shapes that Balanchine wove into the ballet.
 
Here's to hoping for a better showing on Saturday night when this program will close out New York City Ballet’s stay in Saratoga.

Indiana Woodward and Chun Wai Chan are Swanilda and Frantz in George Balanchine and Alexandra Danilova’s colorful and comical "Coppélia," which is being performed at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center through Saturday. (Photo by Paul Kolnik)

George Balanchine touched the lives of so many — artists and audience alike. But only one person – Alexandra “Choura” Danilova – was there for it all — from childhood to death.

As children, they attended the Imperial Ballet School in Russia, escaped the country’s deprivation after the revolution to join the Ballets Russes, performing throughout the world, and then, at Lincoln Kirstein’s bidding, they came to America.
 
There, as Balanchine built his company, Danilova built his school. And together, they created one of the world’s greatest ballet companies.
 
Over the next few days at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center, one of the great achievements of their abiding friendship will be onstage. “Coppelia,” the only ballet that Danilova choreographed with Balanchine, is opening New York City Ballet’s short stint at the outdoor amphitheater. And though it’s very familiar to audiences there, as it made its world premiere at SPAC in 1974 and played here frequently over the years, it never fails to delight. The romantic comedy, with music by Leo Delibes, is bright, lively, and guaranteed to please.
 
It centers on the story of Swanilda and Frantz. He loves her, but also loves a doll, whom he thinks is a real person. He throws her kisses as she sits on the balcony of a toymaker. What unfolds are all sort of antics as Swanilda and her friends and then Frantz sneak into the workshop. Of course, there is a happy ending.
 
But what is so impressive – and why it is so important that upstate audiences cherish New York City Ballet – are both the orchestra and the dancers. Under the baton of Andrew Litton, the music soared. And the cast, with Indiana Woodward as Swanilda, Chun Wai Chan as Frantz and Taylor Stanley as toymaker Dr. Coppelius, enchanted, making Wednesday’s evening program a delight.
 
Woodward embodied her role as the sweet, but mischievous Swanilda by embodying the music. Every note was emphasized and heightened in her body most generously. She wasn’t thinking of the step, but letting the music carry her through her petit allegro with ease. She also held her own with Chan, a charming presence, in their spirited grand pas de deux at the end.
 
Stanley in the role of the elderly toymaker was also astounding. He’s known for his depth – not his comedic abilities. And now we all know, he can do both with aplomb. His creaky, hunched, wobbly character was amusing.
 
Also making this ballet so special were the children – a brood of 24 in pink tutus that looked like clouds as they bounced about framing the four soloist who blessed the wedding festivities.
 
And while Danilova’s name is listed in the program along with the other major players in the creation of “Coppelia,” her contribution is offered up in a visual salute in the design of the wedding day bells. Her initials, along with those of Balanchine and others, are seemingly etched into the chimes.
 
City Ballet respectfully, and happily for the audience, truly honors the legacy.