{"id":20072,"date":"2025-05-12T22:24:57","date_gmt":"2025-05-12T22:24:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mobballet.org\/?p=20072"},"modified":"2025-06-02T19:47:22","modified_gmt":"2025-06-02T19:47:22","slug":"the-oasis-dance-journal-jennifer-archibalds-maslows-peak-a-full-length-for-the-future-balletx","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mobballet.org\/index.php\/2025\/05\/12\/the-oasis-dance-journal-jennifer-archibalds-maslows-peak-a-full-length-for-the-future-balletx\/","title":{"rendered":"The Oasis Dance Journal: Jennifer Archibald’s Maslow\u2019s Peak, A Full Length For The Future| BalletX"},"content":{"rendered":"

MAY|JUNE<\/a><\/h1>\n

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Maslow\u2019s Peak, A Full Length For The Future.<\/b><\/h1>\n

Jennifer Archibald\u2019s first full Maslow\u2019s Peak doesn\u2019t simply invite you into the world of the ballet \u2014it invites you into the ballet world itself.<\/i><\/h3>\n

BY THERESA RUTH HOWARD<\/strong><\/h3>\n

In the interest of full disclosure<\/span>, I\u2019ve known Jennifer Archibald since the start of her career. I also commissioned her to create a work for Pathways to Performance<\/em> during its debut season at the Kennedy Center and Jacob\u2019s Pillow. That said, I am confident in my ability to approach this commentary with objectivity. When personal bias may influence my perspective, I will name it clearly and transparently within the piece.<\/span><\/p>\n

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On the evening of May 2nd, the weather in Philadelphia could not have been more perfect for BalletX\u2019s premiere of choreographer Jennifer Archibald\u2019s Maslow\u2019s Peak<\/i> at the open-air Mann Center for the Performing Arts. The light breeze in the air added an immersive effect to Archibald\u2019s first full-length ballet, inspired by themes from William Golding\u2019s Lord of the Flies<\/i>. There was a palpable buzz of excitement that even the openness of the space could not dissipate. In the wake of news about the dissolution of the National Endowment for the Arts, the moment felt like one that might soon be remembered wistfully\u2014as a \u201cremember when\u2026\u201d echoing the \u201cbefore times\u201d that COVID created.<\/p>\n

Archibald uses Lord of the Flies<\/i> not as a libretto but as an anchor\u2014a familiar structure and setting (a group stranded, forced to determine how to govern themselves in order to survive) from which to explore the themes of Abraham Maslow\u2019s Hierarchy of Needs<\/a>. Developed in 1943, the psychological theory is represented as a five-tier pyramid of human needs, ascending from basic survival to self-actualization:<\/p>\n

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Per Maslow, society in the United States appears to be descending the pyramid, with most Americans now preoccupied with sustaining basic needs\u2014grappling with high rent, the price of eggs, and the policing of female reproductive rights. Daily, we watch the world bear an unsettling resemblance to the dystopian futures of the films we \u201cNetflix and chill\u201d with, needing a beta blocker just to go to the grocery store. The plot of Maslow\u2019s Peak<\/i> feels eerily apropos\u2014strangely timely in a Carrie Bradshaw kind of way:<\/p>\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t help but wonder: What was Archibald trying to say? Was this a manifesto? A provocation? Or an artistic invitation to personal reflection? All of the above\u2014or none at all?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

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As the ballet unfolded and the sun set completely midway through the first act, I came to the conclusion that perhaps I was witnessing a potential solution to a long-standing problem ballet has been trying to solve for decades: how to create a full-length work that satisfies elite sensibilities and traditional \u201cstandards,\u201d appeals to core audiences (those who love the classical three-act structure), while also attracting new audiences who may carry preconceived notions about what ballet is\u2014or isn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

A core identifier of ballet as an art form is the three-act story ballet\u2014so central that it might well be considered a protected species. These works, particularly those that include a ballet blanc<\/i>, are often used as the ultimate measure of classicism. To be considered a “classical” ballet company, it is almost a prerequisite to have at least one canonical full-length ballet in the repertory.<\/p>\n

A historical yet illustrative example: Although Dance Theatre of Harlem had mastered the Balanchine repertory, co-founders Arthur Mitchell and Karl Shook understood that without a classical full-length ballet, the company would never be taken seriously within the larger ballet establishment. However, they also recognized that the work needed to be culturally appropriate for a company of Black dancers. In 1984, Creole Giselle<\/i> premiered\u2014retaining the traditional story and choreography, but set in 1840s Louisiana on a Creole plantation, with costumes reflecting the period and social status of free Black people.<\/p>\n

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Full-length ballets are the bread and butter of most ballet companies. But as the white-haired, hardcore patrons (and donors) who support them age out, ballet must find ways to connect with a younger, more diverse audience. Unfortunately, the pomp and circumstance of heavily costumed productions\u2014along with some of their outdated or offensive narratives\u2014often fail to resonate with contemporary viewers. In fact, many themes in these historic works are now deemed problematic.<\/p>\n

Still, ballet (and opera) institutions rarely let go of the classics, even when the works are widely acknowledged as racist, sexist, or antiquated. Rather than simply honoring requests from communities harmed by these portrayals to retire such works, companies often opt for performative gestures of accountability\u2014organizing panels or hiring scholars\u2014to give the appearance of searching for a solution, when the obvious one is clear: just don\u2019t stage them. Even when groups directly impacted by this racism politely request an end to these productions<\/a>, companies often choose performative gestures\u2014like hosting panels or hiring scholars\u2014to appear as though they are \u201cseeking solutions,\u201d when the answer is obvious: just stop doing them.<\/p>\n

Here lies the twisted irony: ballet companies can\u2019t afford to let go of the historic full-lengths, financially speaking. Yet creating new productions\u2014especially those that aspire to the scale and prestige of the classics\u2014is akin to earning a degree in higher education: it may enhance long-term prospects, but the upfront cost may never be recouped. So what is an art form to do?<\/p>\n

One workaround has been the restaging and reimagining of the classics, in the vein of Creole Giselle<\/i>, as ways of keeping these canonical staples alive: Matthew Bourne\u2019s Swan Lake<\/i> (1995), Jean-Christophe Maillot\u2019s minimalist Romeo and Juliet<\/i> (1996), and Akram Khan’s Giselle<\/i> (2016). In ballet, the pinnacle of a choreographic commission is the full-length story ballet. It is a heavy lift and an acquired skill that requires a full artistic and production team, time, space, and money\u2014lots of it. There are a handful of choreographer juggernauts and major players shaping this genre today:<\/p>\n