The program billed it as “Charles Askegard’s farewell,” but to his friends—and, having worked with him, I’m one —he’s always been Chuck. Yesterday afternoon at Lincoln Center, he said goodbye to a theater full of friends.
He danced in all four ballets, including two with Maria Kowroski. In the pas de deux from “Diamonds,” the orchestra’s slow tempo made Tchaikovsky a sad elegy.
In “Episodes,” their section to Webern’s orchestration of Bach was a reassuring balm after all the atonality. During the final swelling notes, he smiled at Kowroski. She bit her lip as if to keep from crying.
Even at his own party, Chuck let his partners take center stage. He played a death figure in Robbins’ “In Memory of . . .”as Wendy Whelan gave the performance of the season: wrenching and emotional as she took his hand and accepted her fate.
The show ended with “Western Symphony.” The final rondo suits him to a T, showing his aw shucks demeanor and ability to whack out turns even after three ballets.
Sara Mearns outdid herself as she cranked her leg to the sky—he ducked as she pretended to kick him—but the kiss she blew him and the hug, as she ran into his arms, were real.
All the ballerinas came out with roses, and the other dancers came on stage and applauded. Confetti fell and fans tossed bouquets onstage. Chuck cried only at the end. It was so like him to leave this way—with the happiest of goodbyes.