After paying a scalper the equivalent of a ransom for my oldest born son (easy cuz I don't have one) we entered this great shrine. Frisons! Wonderful; good view, settle in for a treat - not!
After 10 minutes of jerks banging chairs on the parquet, jerks dragging ladies back and forth and jerks making some militaristic motions toward other jerks, I was ready to leave - screw the Euros wasted. But I know my beloved wife wanted to stay and since I didn't have a car parked nearby, I could bus home. So I waited 15, then 20, then 25 minutes and finally exited the plush box out onto the street and up to the Galeries for some foie gras, chorizo, herring, white beans, caviar and spicy olives for the Reveillon.
I've read and followed the recs of the NYT's critics for 60 years; been devoted to Craig Claiborne, Frank Rich and John Martin and Anna Kisselgoff not to mention Brooks Atkinson, but this "new" (since 2005 yet) ballet critic lady, one Roslyn Sulcas, sure had this one wrong. Or maybe it was the fault of the choreographer - one Angelin Preljocaj - in any case I ain't goin' again 'til they bring back Robbins or Nureyev's stuff. It was dumb, boring and involved too many jerks.