Swan Lake, The Royal Ballet 07/03/2011

Swan Lake is probably the first production that comes into most people's minds when you talk about ballet. And all the more so this year, after the success of the film Black Swan. So it was a bit of a shame that the Royal Ballet gave what was a fairly mediocre performance of this classic.



In fairness, I was always going to be disappointed, for two main reasons: firstly, the last Swan Lake I saw, in October 2008 (Nunez and Soares) was utterly sublime - I was completely enchanted by the end; and secondly, Carlos Acosta was dancing Siegfried, and the undeservedly exuberant response he always gets from the crowd is quite frankly irritating.

The production is a seasoned one, so I won't dwell too much here - I don't think there are too many faults, given that when danced well this Swan Lake is magical. The problem on this occasion was scrappiness. In the first act, timing was an issue both on and under the stage; not the finest night in the pit, and made more conspicuous by the fame of the music. The Pas de Trois struggled, and while Laura Morera strived valiantly even she seemed to lack some of her usual spriteliness. Acosta was his usual smug self, although I should at least credit him with being the best thing on the stage by a country mile in this act. Fortunately, things picked up markedly in Act two, with the advent of Tamara Rojo. Some stunning balances, and really lovely lines. The corps responded and were much more together, and the pas de deux was quite spell-binding - a hint of enchantment here perhaps.

In Act Three, the national dances were done reasonably well, but again were a bit scrappy. A highlight was the neopolitan dance (Yuhui Choe and Ludovic Ondivela), which never fails to get the audience laughing. The transition between white and black swan is challenging, particularly given Tchaikovsky gives very little musical assistance, and Rojo failed to convince me as Odile, and really came across as Odette in a black tutu. Her dancing was impeccable however, showing up Acosta by quite some margin (as the man next to me on my way out put it: 'she was excellent, but he was distinctly average...[and] he needs to pull his socks up"). The dancing in the final act was fine, again the corps much better as swans (although as the attendants, Laura McCulloch's grand jetes looked clumsy next to Natalie Harrison's much more graceful movement). However, with the lack of preparation in the previous acts for the frenzied emotions, the music overpowered the dancing, and there was very little sense of the chilling magic that should be evident by this point.

An average performance of what can be an amazing ballet. Perhaps I'm turning into a grumpy old woman though, as the rapturous applause from the audience suggested that they enjoyed themselves well enough. Tamara Rojo carried this one on her own as far as I'm concerned, but let's hope the rest of the company improve for the rest of the run.

Giselle - The Royal Ballet, 19/1/11 & 5/2/11

My first outings to the ballet of 2011, and the performance on both occasions certainly did not disappoint. 'Giselle' is charming if a little pedestrian, and very enjoyable if not a ballet that leaves a resounding impression. The switch between the charming village gaiety and hubbub of act one and the haunting ethereality of act two is abrupt, through no fault of the RB, but they build the story up very well during act one. The set, revamped for this run, is very effective, bringing depth and detail without being intrusive.

Interestingly, the balance of the plot is held not by Giselle, but the relative performances of Hilarion and Albrecht. At my first visit, Rupert Pennefather made for a rather wet, if sufficiently charming, Albrecht, while Gary Avis played a noble Hilarion. Pennefather fails to convey the degree to which Albrecht has fallen for Giselle, and is trapped by his circumstance, such that throughout Act II you can’t help but feel that Giselle is dancing to protect the wrong man. Which rather takes the emotional punchiness out of it. Contrast that with the performances of Johan Kobborg as Albrecht (who is clearly distraught at the end of act one by the distress and subsequent death of Giselle) with Jose Martin as Hilarion. Martin’s Hilarion comes across as slightly malevolent, interfering almost, which in contrast with Kobborg’s more heartfelt Albrecht, leads to a more comfortable perspective for viewing act two. Furthermore, while I think Gary Avis is really fantastic as Hilarion, his dancing is scrappy, and there is scope for the role of Hilarion to be danced to full pelt, as it was by Martin – you know he is being danced till he can dance no more, which effectively sets the scene for the Wilis closing in on Albrecht.

Both Giselles gave excellent performances. Marianela Nuñez (19/1) was exquisite, bringing a surprising amount of gravitas to the role. She acted Giselle’s heartbreak and confusion at discovering the true identity of Albrecht very powerfully, perfectly preparing us for act two. Her second act was spell-binding, bringing a strong and resolute quality to Giselle as she protects her Albrecht  (Rupert Pennefather) from the merciless Wilis. Alina Cojocaru (5/1) plays an altogether gentler, more youthful Giselle, with equal effectiveness. While her second act is less powerful than Nuñez’s, and thus lacks some of the driving energy, her earnest interpretation is really heartrending at times, made all the more so by the strength of her partnership with Johan Kobborg. The corps were also on unusually fine form on both occasions, some beautifully precise formations and timing pretty much ubiquitously spot on. Elsewhere, Helen Crawford and Hikaru Kobayashi made passable Queens of the Wilis, though Kobayashi’s pointe shoes made her sound more like an elephant than a spirit. Secretly though, I was pining for Laura Morera…

Overall, this is a very polished production with some fantastic dancing at all levels; significantly brushed up since 2009.

Coppelia, The Bolshoi Ballet, 24/07/2010

Coppelia is not a ballet of much substance, but is more about pretty movement, to pretty music in the context of a light but mostly inconsequential plot.

Full of light, energetic village scenes, acts I and III are all about the dance. These breezy acts are perfect vehicles for the Bolshoi's impeccable corps, and for the feisty athleticism of another young star, Natalia Osipova (pictured), as she dances Swanilda. Although beguiling, the character of the young girl Swanilda is not a particularly attractive one; think head cheerleader, for a crass parallel. However, it's all good fun, overlooked by the life-like doll Coppelia from the balcony of the old man Coppelius's house, broken into by the village youths and the Coppelia-smitten Franz (Ruslan Skvortsov).

 In Act II (set in Coppelius's workshop) there are creepy chilling elements as the life size dolls dance, and it is this act that forms the heart of the ballet. Coppelius returns and turfs the youngsters out, only to be taunted by Swanilda, masquerading as Coppelia come to life. Coppelius is meant to be sinister and somewhat malevolent, but Gennady Yanin played him as a rather pathetic, lonely old man. While this added an extra layer of emotional complexity to this otherwise fairly inane ballet, it did rather take the fun out of Swanilda's taunting. Finally she achieves her goal, revealing to Franz that the object of his affection is a doll, setting things up for the exuberant wedding celbrations of act III, which are not disimilar to those of Sleeping Beauty (no plot left to tell, random solos... but as part of a much shorter ballet).
 
Coppelia doesn't leave a particularly lasting impression, but is good enough fun, and holds some magnificent dancing. Delibes' music is lovely, and the Bolshoi probably danced this almost as well as it can be danced, with Osipova very much in the driving seat, reigning supreme as Swanilda.

Spartacus, The Bolshoi Ballet 21/07/2010

It would be pretty impressive for any one who regularly reads a newspaper to have missed the sensation that is the Bolshoi's young star Ivan Vasiliev (pictured), dancing the title role in this performance. Almost every newspaper has had a feature article, many full page, and several had interviews with the man himself. This is practically unheard of in ballet, so what's so special about this man?

I was expecting to see the second cast, and running late, didn't pick up a cast sheet before the first act. By the interval I was utterly bemused - how was it possible that the lauded Vasiliev could be better than the man dancing this evening! Of course it all made sense when I discovered that the Bolshoi had rearranged the performance dates, and that the genius on stage was in fact the 21 year old from Vladivostok. His famous leaps deserve every bit of their hype - he flies through the air, with both grace and fervour simultaneously. His turns are full of energy and abandon yet without being the slightest bit messy. He spirals out of them effortlessly. And yet for all this technical genius, we could still have been left wanting, but Vasiliev's acting is every bit the match for his dancing. Every movement of his muscular shoulders spoke volumes, particularly in Spartacus's monologues, and he accurately portrayed both the fierce anger of a man trapped by circumstance and the passion of a man in love.

Gushings of the wonder of Vasiliev aside, there are some very striking elements to Spartacus; the masculinity of the corps,  Khachaturian's music, and the absolutely stunning tableaus that see out each act. The crucifixion of spears, and the finale are moving, haunting. The choreography is heavy in places, and occasionally the stage feels overcrowded. In the other lead roles, the part of Crassus (Alexander Volchkov) is rather static and pathetic, not to mention camp, which is certainly not helped by the gold wig and armour. There is something of the ethereal about Spartacus's love Phyrgia who was beautifully danced by Nina Kaptsova. Aegina, Crassus's manipulative Courtesan, danced by Maria Allash, wasn't convincingly alluring and had slightly soft ankles, but pulled it off well enough.

So Spartacus - some great bits, but not overwhelming in and of itself. This really was all about Vasiliev - with him in the title role, everything hangs together. By all accounts the second cast failed to lift this production out of mediocrity. I have never seen anyone dance like Vasiliev - finally I understand why people camped for days to get tickets to see Nureyev and Fonteyn. I will travel the globe to see him dance. And so should we all.

Chroma/Tryst/Symphony in C - The Royal Ballet, 02/06/2010

The final triple bill of the year for The Royal Ballet, the combination of Wayne McGregor's Chroma, Christopher Wheeldon's Tryst, and the classic Balanchine Symphony in C was an excellent season finale.

Chroma received rave reviews at it's first outing, and with such stunning staging, and wonderfully mesmeric music (orchestration of music by the White Stripes), it's easy to see why. And where the dancing works with the music, this piece is stunning, particularly the central pas de deux, danced at this performance by Sarah Lamb and Eric Underwood. On the whole the choreography is just hallmark McGregor - which was interesting when we hadn't seen much from him, but now just feels a bit tired. It felt disjointed at points;any relationship between the dance and the music seemed to have been severed, with bodies scattered round the stage, often with little connection between dancers. The men were bizarrely overly effeminate. Aside of the tranquility generated in the rare moments of perfect cohesion between music and movement during the pas de deux, this work now feels a bit inconsequential.

Tryst could perhaps have been equally renamed Trance. The music (James MacMillan) is ghastly for the most part - screeching strings - but fortunately this work is weird enough to work it. While perhaps the whole thing felt a little flat emotionally, the movement was interestingly primordial, almost blind, looking as though choreographed for the sensation rather than the visual effect. The four main couples danced well together, if slightly clumsily alone.  The staging was really effective, diagonally arranged on the stage, and the lighting created a ghostly intimate atmosphere, almost like a new dawn or birth at the end, with the dancers writhing as the light comes up from stage left. Interesting, hypnotising, but a bit weird.

Symphony in C was in a whole league of its own, however. I think I often underrate Balanchine, but when you see his work next to these two, albeit very enjoyable and interesting, new works, it outshines them completely. Each movement of Bizet's symphony is taken on by one pair of principals, each with a distinct character and mood. The corps were radiant, and perhaps the most synchronous I have seen them dance; every movement initiated by the leading principals echoed so beautifully and subtley to completion. Alina Cojocaru danced a very regal Adagio, and Roberta Marquez and Stephen MacRae were show-stopping in the Allego Vivace. We had only a short snippet of the perfect pairing of Laura Morera and Ricardo Cervera,  but they just left us wanting more at curtain down. Perhaps only Leanne Benjamin let the side down a very little in the first movement, with a few wobbly turns. However, I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of this the final work of the night.

A triple bill that ranks very highly in my table of Royal Ballet mixed bill evenings - it will be interesting to see what happens to these bills when Monica Mason steps down as Director. She has been key in the development of these evenings that have become such a core part of the Royal Ballet programme.

Electric Counterpoint, Asphodel Meadows, Carmen 06/05/2010

It was election night, and with so many minds elsewhere, awaiting the exit poll results, there wasn't quite the same expectant hush as the curtains rose to Christopher Wheeldon's Electric Counterpoint. However, the effective juxtaposition of voiceovers, a lifesize screen, and live dancing, generated sufficient intrigue to reel us in. And yet, I found myself more interested in what the dancers were saying as they reflected on the sensations of dance, on choreography, on music, than the movement itself. It was also a shame that much of the video projection had been filmed for the first cast, rather than for Ricardo Cervera, Laura Morera, Marianela Nuñez and Sergei Polunin.

Asphodel Meadows was the main stage debut for young choreographer Liam Scarlett. Unlike most choreographers of his generation, Scarlett is pretty traditional, preferring clean, precise and more classical lines. Think more Balanchine than McGregor. The three main couples were echoed by a beige clad corps, and while if there was a concept it passed me by, the dancing was certainly a pleasure to watch. Scarlett is not exactly bringing something novel or fresh with his choreography, but provided he does what he does well, I can't imagine he won't get a second outing on the main stage.

Mats Ek's Carmen is an unusual piece, but one that I greatly enjoyed seeing for the second time. The garish background (a fan, with a suggestively shaped and placed slit doorway at the bottom) and costumes, perfectly complement and contrast the choreography. Unusually for ballet, there are gutteral screams and shouts of olé, which creates a great rough and ready atmosphere, and adds to the dramatic tension that builds as events reach their dramatic conclusion. Tamara Rojo was a fantastic Carmen, and Thomas Whitehead a superb José. Kristen McNally dancing the odd choreography of M perfectly, evoking both confused outbursts of laughter and eery spine-tingling as she weaves on and off the stage.

All in all a very enjoyable triple-bill, without a weak link for once. It will be intriguing to see what Liam Scarlett does next!

Cinderella, The Royal Ballet 17/04/10,22/04/10,03/05/10

A busy month means this review is extremely late, but here goes anyway. Cinderella was the second Ashton ballet for the Royal Ballet this season, and while not quite up to the high standards of La Fille Mal Gardee, these were still three very enjoyable evenings.

The production is glitzy, in the same vein as the Nutcracker, while the pantomime Ugly sisters make for less dull tweeness than Sleeping Beauty. Prokofiev's often haunting music also adds depth to what could easily become a superficial waltz through a fairy story.

Curtain up and Cinderella is alone by the fire, until her stepsisters fall onto the stage. The sisters get a lot of stage time in this ballet, almost more than Cinderella herself, and while a limited amount of pratting around is funny, by the end of the evening one rather tires of it. Luke Heydon's face is a picture, but was so subtle as to only be appreciable from the stalls, while Gary Avis and Philip Mosley projected far better to the nether regions of the Opera House. Wayne Sleep waddled endearingly, but played his part rather one-dimensionally. Cinderella pines for her dead mother, and her somewhat drippy father rather pathetically lets himself be pushed around by the sisters. Once the sisters are dispatched to the ball, Cinderella wish-dances with her broom. Miyako Yoshida was the picture of refinement and subtle emotion on what was her penultimate performance at the Royal (17/04/10), and Yuhui Choe (22/04/10) sweetly graceful as she stepped in last minute for Alina Cojocaru. The Fairy Godmother then turns up to work her magic - Laura Morera was fantastic, ruling the stage with her energy. Tara-Brigitte Bhavnani had less success, seeming nervous and failing to exert anything like Morera's stage presence. The fairies spring, summer, autumn and winter were danced to varying standards on all three nights. The choreography for summer is dire (even Yuhui Choe couldn't completely pull it off), but Iohna Loots' Spring was dynamic, and Clare Clavert's winter perfectly flitting between hard ice and flurrying snow flakes. The corps weave onto the stage as the moon becomes a clock, cyclically dancing the whirring hands and cogs of ticking time.

Second act, enter the Prince. Stephen McRae managed to exude double his stature in stage presence, and in the few solo sections danced exuberantly, and pretty much perfectly. He partnered Miyako Yoshida to perfection; really some of the best partnering I have seen in many years - every line perfectly echoed, every moment perfectly synchronous. Yoshida was the very picture of elegance and precision. Gary Avis and Michael Stojko pull off suitably ridiculous partners for the ugly sisters by simply playing it straight, the pas de deux between Luke Heydon and Gary Avis being particularly hilarious, ending in a full lift. Paul Kay was a snappy jester, keeping the act moving and holding all the dances together. Time dances in and out, and eventually the clock strikes twelve and Cinders flees the scene, leaving the all important glittery pointe shoe at the top of the steps.

Things wrap up fairly quickly in Act III, after some funny dress swapping between the sisters. The shoe fits, and hey presto happy ending. The fairy godmother then orchestrates the final marriage, and Cinderella and her Prince walk off into the sunset, although only Yoshida and McRae managed to stay in time right to the end. It lacks a final grand pas de deux, which is a shame, but if danced well then the earlier dances should still be on your mind.

Cinderella is good fun, and if danced as well as on the 17th (Yoshida, McRae and Morera) then it is magical. Only negatives are that it is maybe a bit of a pantomime overdose, and you don't get quite enough of Cinderella.