Notes on ‘Dance Reflections’ by Van Cleef & Arpels in Los Angeles


It was quite an evening. As part of an elite, invited audience hosted by France’s sui generis luxury jewelry purveyor, Van Cleef & Arpels, I attended a specially curated program delivered under the rubric of “Dance Reflections,” the retailer’s newish dance initiative. (It had a big rollout in London this past spring.) The evening took place at the headquarters of L.A. Dance Project in downtown Los Angeles. It comprised separate presentations by two disparate (save their shared French origins) choreographers, Benjamin Millepied and Gisèle Vienne. In baseball terms we had a double header. It’s just that champagne and caviar were involved.

First announced by Van Cleef in 2020 (aka the performing arts world’s annus horribilis), Dance Reflections aims to “bring contemporary works to as many people as possible.” That is a statement from marketing materials — pretty broad mission. Van Cleef’s foray into dance doings is not new. In the firm’s lore, the passion for rare stones that Claude Arpels, a balletomane, shared with George Balanchine, it is claimed, led to Mr. B.’s creation of his three-act ballet masterwork, Jewels (1967). It’s not quite clear what their business relationship entails, but since 2012, Mr. Millepied has been in partnership with Van Cleef. Also since that time, Natalie Portman, Mr. Millepied’s wife, has been seen adorned by Van Cleef in various red-carpet moments. She’s beautiful and she wears the jewelry well. Several months ago, Van Cleef & Arpels advertised in the New York Times Magazine that they’d made a watch with a bejeweled ballet dancer dancing through the hours. These people are all in!

This was my first glimpse of L.A. Dance Project in a few years, mostly because of COVID but also because I have not admired Mr. Millepied’s work very much in the past. Thursday night, I was deeply struck that he has wonderful dancers. That says so much about him: selecting dancers is the choreographer’s starting point in reaching his or her audience. So, Millepied’s fine eye in this regard bears mention. Head shots of the company’s 18 dancers (that’s a lot!) are featured in a studio wall-display; in essence they are celebrated. That is a nice touch. They’re contemporary stylists, with robust balletic underpinning, as such, highly versatile movers. I was next struck by how very diverse is this dance company. Yes, it is racially diverse. But it is also diversified by size and shape; by performance aura (some are reclusive, others extroverted); and, in a delightful way, one gets the sense that Mr. Millepied encourages their personalities to shine through. My frank recall of this troupe in its early days was rather the opposite. I remember dancers as dutiful tools. Not so the case last Thursday night.

The parts of Be Here Now that I really liked were tethered to form. Okay, I’m carting around a COVID-confused brain, I’ll admit that. But I always like structure in dance. And in Be Here Now, off and on, Millepied arranges lines formations, and other groupings — and their intersections — so well. He opens Be Here Now, to very pleasing effect, with an all-female quartet (Sierra Herrera, Daphne Fernberger, Daisy Jacobson, Nayomi Van Brunt) dressed in little dance shorts, diaphanous tops, and soft ballet slippers. To the sound of plucking violin strings, the ladies form a diamond shape and take little hops and skips, much in unison, with a delicacy and soft edge I find appealing. The ladies move en masse — but with such lightness to the masse. This feminine movement spools to intriguing music, “Entr’acte,” by a woman composer, Caroline Shaw.

Onto the stage area arrived five men to the sound of syncopated drumming excerpts from Andy Akiho’s Grammy and Pulitzer Prize-nominated, “Seven Pillars.” Millepied poured forth very active and kinetic choreography. A marvelous male dancer with blonde hair and tattoos excelled in motoring to the African-inflected beat, turning balletic turns in a tight fifth position. There was a vee-formation of the guys on the right, and a straight line of women on the left; then followed playful partnering. A return to primitive stomping steps. Two men in a duet, their torsos flopping over their legs in a rag-doll dance. One man lay on the prone body of the other and there, they took a breather. Didn’t look too relaxing. A high-velocity episode of partnered dancing ensued with *very* arduous ballet technique — and you could hear their panting breath.

A slender lady soloed — she took very big steps with her very long legs, reacting to minutia of the music, little computer bleeps. A duet for a Black male dancer and a fabulous petite female one, was amusing for their size differences. Both were impressive, but she put on a rather convincing demonstration of how very good ballet technique enables lots of off-balance stuff. It was in this duet, I believe, that the biggest trick of the evening occurred: she jumps in place, upward, in a saute de basque, tucking feet beneath her and in he swoops, grabbing her by the waist, in essence, catching her, mid-air, in a stationary, not a traveling moment. That’s very hard to do. And on and on it went. The dancers, one felt, were aware that they were crushing it. There were many smiles.

So, what’s not to like? Where Millepied is concerned, it’s an abundance of riches. Benjamin Millepied knows a lot of steps. A lot!! Like, hundreds, could be thousands! That observation is made in good faith, in recognition and respect. As a former dancer for New York City Ballet and former artistic director, however briefly, at Paris Opera Ballet, this is his heritage. Millepied’s depth of knowledge of the classical ballet vernacular may be among the most advanced now working in the field. It makes him exceptional. A big bonus is that he has tucked in his back pocket all those guy ballet tricks — ready to deploy. I do hope the men dancing for him appreciate this. He seems to have taught them ALL kinds of stuff. Barrel turns and tours en l’air that land in new ways. The leaping, by the men, is just thrilling. And naturally, aces, they are nonchalant doling it out.

CROWD by Gisele Vienne
photo by Josh Rose

It seems crazy to find in Millepied’s gift a shortcoming. But the surplus of steps has a flip side. I sat for an hour of this high voltage spew of stepformation (a new term I just invented to describe the choreographer’s toolkit). And it’s a little this, a little that, it’s all mixed in, and it’s kind of confusing to watch it. What if I were speaking, oh, let’s say French, but threw in the odd Chinese word, putting you, the listener, in the position of having to suss my meaning by context. We all know that dance speaks a mysterious language. But Millepied’s is notably hither and yon. It is jam packed. It’s bravura. It’s sexy. It’s smart. It’s show-offy. It’s fresh and musical! But it doesn’t add up; often it tapers off and a new idea gets expressed. So it doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t go anywhere and it’s hard to watch–certainly for an hour.

A second point. I am wary of the privatization of dance presentation. A private firm in the for-profit space operates in a black box, no transparency. So we can never know (nor do we have the right to even ask) how artists are selected, who is doing the selection, by what qualification he who vets holds that powerful position, and by what means or what process is vetting undertaken. Finally (shhh! bad taste to mention this) there’s the money. What are the artists’ fees? Are there situations in which Van Cleef can outbid other, shall we say, less liquid presenters? Side curiosity, how much money did Mr. Millepied earn by use of his parking lot for Ms. Vienne’s performance? Just asking, ’cause parking lots are really big business in L.A.!!!

Van Cleef funds, for example, are now situated at major theaters in big arts cities. One is the Brooklyn Academy of Music. But it’s unclear if that goes to BAM’s general fund, or, if the only way BAM can activate that funding is by presenting artists of Van Cleef’s ‘stable,’ its choosing. If it is the latter that would threaten the integrity of BAM’s artistic curation. But these days dance will take what it can get. Making this point precisely in an interview with Dance Magazine, Alistair Spalding, the artistic director of Sadler’s Wells in London (which similarly has accepted Van Cleef funding and presented its chosen artists as part of a Dance Reflections festival) addressed this directly:

“When we announced our part of the Dance Reflections program, I got a lot of emails asking, ‘How can you do this after the period we’ve just been through? The simple answer is that we wouldn’t have been able to do it without Van Cleef & Arpels’ support.”

Sir Alistair Spalding interviewed by Emily May for Dance Magazine, March 8, 2022

CROWD, the second event in the double-header evening I attended, an avant-garde site-specific work by Gisèle Vienne, which to this viewer’s eyes was artistically only so-so, with the help of Dance Reflections funding, was presented at the Brooklyn Academy of Music a week or so prior to its Los Angeles showcase. In the business world that planning is called creating economies of scale. It’s kind of costly crossing the pond just for BAM, or just for L.A. Better to add a second booking. The largesse of Van Cleef & Arpels, come on, we’re all adults, feels like a wealthy firm in the private sector, sensing that dance presenters are on their heels after COVID, stepping into a vacuum. Because … that’s what businesses do. They find and pursue opportunities in their interest. Perhaps that can be just great for dance as well. But the setup seems fraught. I think that a tipping point will be if Dance Reflections moves its road show to Asia, where French luxury goods sell so well.

P.S. Whoops! Vogue Magazine has already published that Dance Reflections is headed to China.

Dance critic Debra Levine is founder/editor/publisher of arts●meme.

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