The great poet Ezra Pound (1885–1972) espoused profoundly
impolitic views: He supported the Axis during World War II, railed
against “the Jews,” and declaimed the evils of central banking.
But Pound was also a composer; he marveled at Igor Stravinsky‘s
Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra, astutely declaring that
“piano and orchestra are as two shells of a walnut.” Composed in 1929,
Capriccio is closer to Rhapsody in Blue than the
stereotypical piano concerto: Instead of resorting to a Beethovenian
battle—which could be touted as “Piano Versus Orchestra! One
Night Only!”—or the syrupy seduction oozing through concertos
by Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff, the Capriccio‘s piano and
orchestra dance as one. Even if Gershwin hadn’t concocted
Rhapsody in 1924, the buoyant Capriccio conjures enough
hand-waving, hoofing Broadway razzmatazz to embody the Roaring Twenties
all by itself.
Choreographer George Balanchine thought so, too,
rechristening the Capriccio as Rubies. Blending classical
ballet and the Hollywood production number, Balanchine embeds a
high-stepping pas de deux in the jaunty opening Presto. The
corps de ballet frolics, too, in faceted symmetries (oceans of waving
arms, ranks of angled limbs, hoisted thighs that threaten to
kick into the cancan) that pay homage to Balanchine’s former employer,
movie director Busby Berkeley. Pacific Northwest Ballet presents
Rubies (Thurs–Sun Jan 29–Feb 1 and Thurs–Sat
Feb 5–7, McCaw Hall, 441-2424, see pnb.org for times, $25–$155) and the other
two parts of Balanchine’s Jewels trilogy: Emeralds (with
music by Fauré) and the regal Diamonds (set to
Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 3).
Remember Al Di Meola? His frenetic “Race with the Devil on a
Spanish Highway” inspired and frustrated countless guitarists in the
1970s. Di Meola, whose fleet fingers propelled the fusion outfit
Return to Forever, returns to Seattle (Thurs–Sat Jan
29–Jan 31 at 7:30 and 9:30 pm, Sun Feb 1 at 7:30 pm, Jazz Alley,
441-9729, $28.50) with his World Sinfonia. Accompanied by guitarist Peo
Alfonsi, Fausto Beccalossi on accordion, and two percussionists, Di
Meola has a mellower, acoustic sound that infuses his flamenco-tinged
playing with the slinkier feel of Argentine tango.
For thunderous rhythms, check out the Kodo Drummers (Fri–Sat Jan 30–31, Meany Hall, UW Campus, 543-4880, 8 pm,
$20–$40), a must-see for anyone who loves barrages of big,
booming drums. Used in battle centuries ago to intimidate the enemy,
taiko drums—think of barrels turned on their sides and
battered with sticks as thick as broom handles—whip up an
unforgettable ruckus.
Lastly, clarinetist Jesse Canterbury, who was part of the
superb quartet Cipher at the Is That Jazz? festival earlier this month,
serves up an evening of compositions and improvisations with two fellow
clarinetists, his mentor William O. Smith and New
York–based reedman Michael McGinnis (Sat Jan 31, Gallery
1412, 8 pm, donation requested). At 82, Smith continues to expand the
clarinet’s sonic palette, playing multiple notes simultaneously and transforming chirps, croaks, and other surprising tones into music.
Bassist/composer Brian Cobb and percussionist Greg Campbell round out
the rhythm section, though plan to hear duos, trios, and weblike
polyphony from everyone. 
Where do you do your research?
George Balanchine never worked with or for Busby Berkeley. Balanchine did not arrive in the United States until late 1933, the year in which Berkeley really made a name for himself staging the musical numbers for a number of Warner Brothers films (including 42nd Street, Gold Diggers of 1933, and Footlight Parade); Berkeley did not direct films until later in the decade.
Balanchine was under contract with Goldwyn in the late 1930s as a choreographer (Goldwyn Follies, etc.). He worked for many years in theatre, film, opera and ballet before he was able to succeed in establishing (with the help of Lincoln Kirstein) in 1948, a ballet company with real staying power (the New York City Ballet).
Berkeley later moved on to MGM (his work on Mickey Rooney-Judy Garland and Esther Williams films being among his best known) before descending into alcoholism. His reputation was reclaimed in the 1970s, culminating in a return to his Broadway roots in a popular revival of “No, No Nannette.”
Myopic Eye, you are absolutely correct. The “former employer” bit was residue from an early draft; it was my mistake and I should have caught that!
I apologize for the error and for my tardy reply to your comment; I only monitor my column’s comments a week after publication.
I hope you were able to catch Rubies – it was splendid!
cordially,
Christopher