Wheeldon, Overstepping a Bit

If you saw only the first half of the opening program Wednesday, with "Polyphonia" and "Monotones II," you'd think things simply couldn't get much better. (Indeed, after that, they only got worse.) "Polyphonia," the fleshly visualization of several Gyorgy Ligeti piano pieces, is perhaps Wheeldon's best-known and sturdiest work -- City Ballet performed it in Washington in 2005. Ligeti is much in vogue in the dance world now, but to my ear, it sounds a lot like introspective squirrels with access to a keyboard; there's brainy craft but little warmth to it, save for one exceptionally quiet section that felt like being alone in a church.

That scene marked the appearance of a major find, Beatriz Stix-Brunell, a dancer who is, according to the program notes, still in high school but whose unguarded composure and innocence draw you in to a movingly private place. Also a standout here was City Ballet's Wendy Whelan, for whom Wheeldon created the central role. Her partner, Tyler Angle, folded and unfolded her like a living work of origami, whose center was a dearly held mystery.

"Monotones II" was a brilliant counterpoint; linear and elongated, like "Polyphonia," but not a bit cool. City Ballet star Maria Kowroski looked ravishingly futuristic-a-go-go in a white skinsuit with diamond collar and belt, and a cute shower cap to match. (As did her partners, Rubinald Pronk and Edward Watson, in identical garb.) She was not entirely comfortable in the voluptuous Ashton style -- one longed to see a bit more feeling in her upper body, and a relaxed openness through the shoulders, than her more neo-classical training allowed -- but she found the lyrical tones in this work, accompanied by Erik Satie's heartbreaking, gentle music, "Trois Gymnopedies."

Molnar's piece, however, went nowhere. As Steve Reich's crystalline Variations for Winds, Strings and Keyboards tumbled and billowed, so did the dancers, but where Reich had a sense of purpose and direction, they seemed engaged in random physical play. As with so many young choreographers, Molnar is a whiz at fast-forwarding dancers into rat-a-tat-tat displays of speed and athleticism, but here, at least, she had little to say with all that energy.

The bigger letdown was that Wheeldon's "Commedia" followed her into the weeds. Wheeldon created this piece to mark the 100th anniversary of the founding of the Ballets Russes, which will be feted next year. The connection is Stravinsky, whose 1920 "Pulcinella" was written for a ballet that included costumes by Pablo Picasso. The music, for Stravinsky, was a bridge between past and future. But Wheeldon seems to see no such gateway in it. He uses the "Pulcinella Suite" with little feeling for its context or atmosphere.

Any references to the love story at its heart were cursory. A nod to the exaggerated theatricality of commedia dell'arte came from the stylized harlequinade costumes by Isabel Toledo and the oversize puppet-theater set by her husband, Ruben Toledo. But the dancing was fussy, busy, generic modern-ballet fare. The partnering was too clever by half, and for no purpose. We didn't know these characters, didn't care if they were siblings or lovers or unemployed stockbrokers. At one point, a couple of men partnered a couple other men -- whoop-de-do. This was the best he could do?

Could it be that Wheeldon himself is just too busy? When he's not involved with this enterprise, he's traveling the world creating works for other companies. Here's Morphoses's message: If you want to see his best new material, don't look here. It will likely come from somewhere else.