Purely Visual Appeal

The French phrase “belles-lettres” translates to, simply, “fine letters,” or beautiful writing. Originating in the 17th century, when it specifically referred to literature as opposed to scientific, philosophical, or other official writing, it is commonly used to describe any text which is valued more for its aesthetic qualities—or which concerns itself more with being beautiful—than for its ability to inform or otherwise edify. Beginning in the 19th century, “belles-lettres” has taken on, in some instances, a negative connotation, referring to works that are merely pretty or frivolous; essays, literary prattle, even poetry and fiction might be categorized in this way. Yet to the readers who prize these texts, their ability to entertain, emotionally affect, or merely broaden horizons requires no further justification—or explanation.

When asked what his ballet Rubies was about, George Balanchine famously responded along the lines of, “It’s about 20 minutes.” Such laconic remarks were not unusual from the choreographer; another is his description of his Theme and Variations as, quite succinctly, “a dance ballet.” And there is of course the much-quoted exhortation to “see the music” and “hear the dance”—for the company’s cofounder, appreciating ballet could be as simple as that. This is not quite the equivalent of saying “dance for dance’s sake,” yet his familiar aphorisms—and the lasting power of Rubies, Theme and Variations, and so on—suggests that much can be gained from enjoying ballet on these rather simple, direct terms. Resident Choreographer Justin Peck’s Belles-Lettres from 2014 provides a more recent instance of such un-narrativized dance, the aesthetic choices and qualities of which embrace beauty for itself.

At the time of NYCB’s 2014 Fall Fashion Gala, designer Mary Katrantzou was an established star in the fashion design world. After graduating from Central Saint Martins in 2008, her first ready-to-wear collection debuted during London Fashion Week in 2009; she won the Swiss Textiles Award in Zurich in 2010, the British Fashion Award for Emerging Talent in 2011, and was awarded Young Designer of the Year at the Elle Style Awards in 2012. Peck had reportedly seen a gown from Katrantzou’s Resort ‘15 collection, saying it was “like nothing he’d ever seen,” and this led to the commission to create costumes for his ballet. As her website describes, the Resort ‘15 collection explored “typographical conceits,” with prints constructed from letters in various alphabets and written languages; “the letters of the alphabet become the images, graphic devices that are collaged and juxtaposed in combinations based purely on visual appeal.”

This inspired, in part, the title of Peck’s ballet. Though the costumes Katrantzou created featured “writing,” its purpose was purely aesthetic; the dresses and leotards communicate something far more ineffable than specific words might. Interestingly, Katrantzou noted in a contemporary interview with Vogue that the most challenging aspect of designing these costumes was their necessary functionality for dance; “We had to make sure there were no restrictions in the [dancers’] movement, which is not something a designer is used to doing. If you design a dress and there’s a bit of restriction, that’s a good thing.” High fashion, her comments suggest, resists purpose—a frivolity, celebrated for its refusal to be merely practical; and yet, when put to the task of adjusting these designs to meet the needs of ballet dancers, the result—“nude, fitted leotards with lavender, yellow and burgundy lace appliqués”—contributes to the wordless beauty of the ballet itself.

Katrantzou told Artflyer that for Belles-Lettres, “We designed costumes that were like second skin. They reflected the subtlety of the music.” The score, César Franck’s Solo de piano avec accompagnement de quintette à cordes en mi majeur (“Piano solo with string quintet accompaniment in E major”), is not, in terms of its modulatory composition style, dramatic changes in volume, and expressive qualities, particularly subtle. Lush, torrid, rich with emotional complexity and romance, it might rather be described as subtle in another sense.

Born in 1822 in Liège, now located in Belgium, César Franck showed an early talent for music and the arts; his father, a bank clerk, became deeply invested in the young man’s artistic success, and pushed him to study at first the Royal Conservatory of Liège then the Paris Conservatoire. Recognized for his abilities as a piano and organ player, Franck eventually left the Conservatoire, likely exhausted by a schedule which included regular performances and teaching private lessons in addition to his studies. Despite some early compositional successes and interest from Franz Liszt and others, at 25, Franck married and moved to Paris, becoming an organist for his parish church. He would continue to teach and write until his death in 1890. Though considered by many to be a highly influential organist and admired by Camille Saint-Saëns and many of his other colleagues, Franck and his music are far less-known today than some believe they deserve.

Among the least known of his compositions seems to be the Solo de piano avec accompagnement de quintette à cordes, a work which appears on two collections of his “Complete Chamber Works” but whose history is obscure. In some instances it is referred to as the 116th work in the César Franck Catalogue published in 1999, though in other searches might be confused with the “Grande Sonata” for piano, which Franck delineated as Opus 10. When the piece was composed, for whom/what purpose, and with which inspirations are not included in his pupil Vincent d'Indy’s biography or more recent writing about the composer.

Rather, the “lettres” of this composition are simply “belles.” The romanticism of the music finds visual expression in Peck’s choreography, which features four couples and a soloist, often in complex geometric arrangements reminiscent of the symmetry of flowers, or passionate pas de deux. Following the Philip Glass-scored patterns of In Creases (2012), and Everywhere We Go, Peck’s ebullient collaboration with Sufjan Stevens from earlier in 2014, Belles-Lettres stands out as the first Franck-scored work in the company’s repertory, and perhaps the most lyrical of Peck’s ballets thus far. It is a “dance ballet,” and an undoubtedly beautiful contribution. 

_{Photos © Paul Kolnik}