Princeton ballet’s long-awaited ‘Debut’ is no disappointment

A quick disclaimer: I know nothing about ballet. Nothing at all, even for a boy. But as the dancers in the Princeton University Ballet (snappily shortened to PUB) repeatedly told me, no one at Princeton knows anything about ballet. Break-dancing, sure. Grinding, definitely. But for classically trained dancers, there is a striking paucity of options. The founders of PUB intend to right this wrong with their debut show, imaginatively titled “Debut.” “It’s an obvious absence,” explained Alexis Branagan ’11, the group’s artistic director. “With ‘Debut,’ we want to show campus what ballet is all about. It’s not just fairies prancing around!”      

Admittedly, it’s quite a change to hear the soft strains of Tchaikovsky and Chopin in the Frist Performance Theatre, a space usually reserved for the likes of Akon and Rihanna. Yet, within the first few songs, the sheer novelty value of Princetonians in tutus vanishes, for the most striking thing about “Debut” is the expertise of the dancing on display.

“People don’t know that there are this many well-trained dancers on campus,” PUB president Virginia Byron ’10 said. “Because there was no outlet for expert dancers, people assumed there weren’t any, but that’s not true. We thought there’d be five people at auditions and we’d have to take everyone, but people just started coming out of the woodwork all of a sudden. We have dancers trained in some of the best studios in the country.”

This may sound like boastful PR, but after seeing “Debut,” it becomes clear that PUB is far from your typical student group: The bar (barre?) is set very high, and though there are the usual fluctuations in ability, the overall impression is one of polished professionalism.

Split between solo acts and group performances, “Debut” runs the gamut of ballet styles. Starting off the show on a rather classicist (read: stuffy) note is a series of pas de quatres, soberly carried out in traditional ballet garb. As soon as the first numbers are over, however, the show goes from one strong performance to another, ranging from the majestic horns-and-all bombast of “Tiger Night” to the ominous melancholy of “Nocturne,” which has some of the show’s most tender and fluid performances. Lighting is used quite minimally in “Debut,” but in “Nocturne” it is used to haunting effect, with a single spotlight illuminating center stage for the dancers to dart in and out of. At the piece’s climax, the four dancers form a line, weaving through the white light in staggered motion and each striking a momentary pose, arms and legs outstretched.

Ballet classics like “Don Quixote” and “Swan Lake” are also featured, with the requisite eschappes and saut de chats brilliantly executed (terminology courtesy of the stage managers). And though the show’s more than just an excuse for the dancers to show off their technical skill, there is no shortage of audacious choreography. At the show’s climax, Branagan and Kate Adamson ’11 pulled off 16 fouettes — a fancy French word for twirls — leaving my head spinning and the entire company in rapturous applause.      

But if you think all you’re going to get from “Debut” is the driest two hours of your life (i.e., centuries-old dance routines), think again. The girls in PUB are clever enough to know who they’re catering to, and they make a concerted effort to move beyond the traditional pirouettes and pink tutus.

“A Sharpness,” choreographed by Sydney Schiff ’10, is perhaps the show’s most arresting piece, with four black-clad dancers moving to a soundtrack of clockwork, staccato strings. Jumping, whirling and even crawling along the floor, the dancers execute a hypnotically odd routine, fighting each other in slow motion in a manner entirely removed from traditional ballet. PUB is doing more than just wheeling out tried-and-tested formulas; with “A Sharpness,” they inject their own distinct flavor into the proceedings.      

In the end, though, it’s the solo performances that really drive the show. If the group pieces are the main courses, weighty and demanding, the solo acts are the appetizers, sprinkled liberally throughout the program and rarely exceeding two minutes in length. Almost all of them are a delight. I particularly enjoyed “La Esmeralda,” in which Chloe Davis ’12 makes innovative use of a tambourine, tapping it against every body part imaginable, from her elbows to her feet.      

So has ballet come to Princeton? Yes — and about time, too. With this many talented dancers on campus, it’s hard to believe that 2009, not 1909, is the debut for Princeton’s first ballet company. It makes me wonder how many other girls have walked out of FitzRandolph Gate without getting the chance to show off their arabesques. Sure, “Debut” is hardly a masterpiece, and a handful of pieces do fall flat — but for Princeton’s first ballet show ever, its success is a minor miracle. One word of warning, though: Despite the connotations of its acronym, this is one dance show you definitely won’t want to pregame.