Royal Ballet Triple: Scènes de Ballet/ Voluntaries/ The Rite of Spring, Covent Garden, May 2011

The three works in this mixed bill fit beautifully together.

The ensemble of twelve from Scènes de Ballet, photo Dee Conway

Scènes de Ballet is a wonderful work by Frederick Ashton to a piece Stravinsky composed in 1944 for a Ziegfeld review. The stylised brilliance of Ashton’s choreography, with its unexpected poses and épaulement, suits the sharp elegance of music, evoking an era wiped out by the Second World War. The glorious geometric precision, with the twelve girls of the ensemble forming varying patterns occasionally split apart by the four male soloists, like four seasons dividing the twelve months in a year, is a delight. As the curtain rises, the principal male dancer is centre stage surrounded by the male soloists. The female ensemble enters, followed later by the female principal who dances with all five of the men. The idiosyncratic choreography, matching the interesting irregularities of Stravinsky’s score, is a treat.

The four soloists were excellent on both occasions, with the principal couples being Lauren Cuthbertson with Sergei Polunin in the matinée, and Sarah Lamb with Valeri Hristov in the evening. The irregular rhythms make this a difficult piece for the dancers — you really have to feel the music — and in the evening performance Sarah Lamb did so with enormous fluidity and sparkle. The female principal is the star of the show, and she brought the whole ballet to life. Although the dancing was wonderful, the orchestra in this first item sounded a bit ragged under the direction of Barry Wordsworth, though they were far better in the other Stravinsky piece —The Rite of Spring — later in the show.

Sarah Lamb in Voluntaries/ photo Bill Cooper

The second item, Voluntaries was created by Glen Tetley in late 1973 for the Stuttgart ballet. He made it as a memorial to their artistic director John Cranko, following his recent early death, and set it to Poulenc’s Concerto in G minor for organ, strings and timpani. The organ music drives the whole work and was played with huge freshness and vitality by Thomas Trotter — well done to the Royal Ballet for engaging him. In Tetley’s wonderful choreography the principal couple is supported by one female and two male soloists, along with an ensemble of six couples.

The matinée was well danced by Leanne Benjamin and Nehemiah Kish, with Sarah Lamb, Ryoichi Hirano and Valeri Hristov, but it was the evening when this ballet really came to life. The huge size difference between Benjamin and Kish, which seemed to cause difficulty in one pas-de-deux, disappeared in the evening with Marianela Nuñez and Rupert Pennefather, along with Cuthbertson, Hristov and Polunin as the soloists. The ensemble remained the same, but there was no comparison between the afternoon and evening performances. The evening exhibited far more joy and energy, and Nuñez and Pennefather were superb together.

Rite of Spring

As the last item, Kenneth MacMillan’s Rite of Spring is a wonderful work, always fresh, and it was superbly performed. The orchestra and dancers produce enormous rhythmic energy, their ritualistic movements announcing the onset of Spring. As night falls, the Chosen One emerges. This sacrificial victim can be male or female in MacMillan’s choreography, and here it was Steven McRae in the afternoon, and Edward Watson in the evening. Both were excellent, and I find Watson to be extraordinary in his portrayal of this role. More than any other member of the company he seems exceptional at being a victim — I’m reminded of his role in The Judas Tree — and his movements made me think of a victim facing his own sacrifice energised by drugs, yet still exhibiting fear at the prospect. There was terror in his eyes and huge emotion in his dancing — a riveting performance!

This wonderful triple bill continues until June 11, but there are only four more performances — for details click here.

Rhapsody, Sensorium, and Still Life at the Penguin Café, Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, March 2011

Why were there empty seats? This is a wonderful Triple Bill, and the Royal Ballet gave a glorious performance, yet on the Grand Tier four boxes in a row were empty. All paid for no doubt, but unused for some of the finest dancing the Company can produce.

Steven McRae in Rhapsody, photo by Tristram Kenton

The evening started with Rhapsody to Rachmaninov’s well-known Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, a delightful ballet created by Frederick Ashton in 1980. He made it for Baryshnikov in the lead role, and the quick darting steps for the leading man were brilliantly executed here by Steven McRae — his pirouettes with jumps were terrific. Yet McRae was not alone in his fabulous performance, but beautifully partnered by Alina Cojocaru, who danced with consummate musicality. Barry Wordsworth in the orchestra pit breathed life into Rachmaninov’s music, particularly during the big pas-de-deux, and the whole cast responded with warmth. This was a super performance, and although Ms. Cojocaru got only a relatively small bouquet in the curtain calls, she and McRae received enormous applause, and fully deserved it.

Benjamin and Whitehead in Sensorium, photo by Johan Persson

Following this was Sensorium, a ballet by Alastair Marriott, first performed in May 2009. The music is Debussy, from his Preludes, and the way it captures light and shade is beautifully assisted by Adam Wiltshire’s simple designs along with lighting by John Read showing subtle changes of intensity and colour. The principal couples were Marianela Nuñez with Rupert Pennefather, and Leanne Benjamin with Thomas Whitehead, and they and the other ten supporting dancers gave a wonderfully controlled performance. The choreography doesn’t flow and excite in the way that Rhapsody does, but as the middle item in the programme it was just right before leading in to the exciting romp of Penguin Café.

Its title may say Still Life, but this extraordinary work by David Bintley is nothing if not full of movement, eloquently expressing the life and energy of animals who are being left behind in a changing world. Emma Maguire was charming in the first movement as the Great Auk, a type of penguin that became extinct in the nineteenth century, and Zenaida Yanowsky was in sparkling form in the second movement as the Utah Longhorn Ram, excellently partnered by Gary Avis. These largish animals are followed by the Texan Kangaroo Rat, danced with wonderful fluidity by James Hay, and then come the dancing fleas, with Iohna Loots dancing brightly as the skunk flea in orange. After that comes the large Southern Cape Zebra with his bevy of charming ladies, and Edward Watson portrayed him with great stage presence.

Steven McRae as the Monkey, photo by Tristram Kenton

Towards the end, Steven McRae burst in as the Brazilian Woolly Monkey, dancing up a storm with fabulous jumps and fluid movements. It’s a glorious ballet to watch, and the music by Stephen Jeffes is an eclectic mix of Charleston, ballroom, jazz, folk and Latin American, superbly conducted by Paul Murphy. I particularly loved the huge bounce he gave to the movement with the fleas, but it was all enormous fun.

This is a Triple Bill not to be missed. The company is doing an extraordinary job in putting on these evenings with three ballets, and the idea that there are empty seats in well-appointed boxes is appalling. There are five more performances, finishing on March 28 — for more details click here.

Cinderella, Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, November 2010

One of the lovely things about Ashton’s Cinderella is the intermingling of the real world with the magical world. This makes it ideal for Christmas or Easter, when everyday life for many people is invested with a little magic.

Marianela Nuñez as Cinderella, photos by Tristram Kenton

Act I starts with poor Cinderella by the fire, and the party preparations of her ridiculous step-sisters. An old crone comes begging and the poor girl’s sympathy for her is rewarded when the old woman reappears . . . and the magic starts. One transformation follows another: the crone turns into a fairy godmother, she causes the house to disappear, and then ushers in the fairies of spring, summer, autumn and winter, with the sets transforming between each one. The soloists on this first night (Iohna Loots, Yuhui Choe, Samantha Raine and Hikaru Kobayashi) all did well, and Choe was outstandingly warm and musical as Summer. So many transformations in a single Act, yet there is one more to come as the pumpkin turns into a coach, which then takes a beautifully transformed Cinderella off to the ball.

Rupert Pennefather as the Prince

In Act II the real and magical worlds alternate, and Rupert Pennefather as the prince seems to inhabit both, as does Paul Kay as a brilliantly acrobatic jester. Those ugly sisters now reappear, and when Cinderella later comes on looking like a princess, Gary Avis as the taller sister casts an embarrassing glance at his own garish costume. He and Philip Mosley interacted superbly with one another as the sisters, and Avis was gloriously over the top without ever descending into pantomime or farce. The comic timing was perfect. On the magical side, Laura Morera was a lovely fairy godmother, and Marianela Nuñez was wonderful as Cinderella, both as a simple house-slave and as the queen of the ball — a true fairy-tale character.

This production by Wendy Somes contains some clever ideas such as the moon transforming into a clock in Act I when the fairy godmother warns that the spell will break at midnight, and then the clock in the ball scene — invisible from the Amphitheatre — shows itself in the lighting on the dance-floor so the whole audience can see it. The transformation of Cinderella’s clothes from a brilliant white tutu to rags is done in a split second, and the poor girl flees as the curtains close.

Paul Kay as the Jester

Act III again mixes the mundane and the magical, and some clever effects are achieved with Mark Jonathan’s lighting. I like the dappled pink effect in the auditorium during the overture, and the dappled white at the end, as the prince and his bride recede into the distance. For an evening of enchantment you won’t do better. Ashton’s choreography is magical — the fairy-tale entrance of Cinderella to the ball as she comes down the stairs en pointe in ethereal splendour, the brilliant asymmetry of the twelve stars … one could go on and on.

Prokofiev’s score was beautifully conducted by Pavel Sorokin, and further performances are scheduled for November 24, 27 and December 2, 3, 9, 13, 17, 21, 28, 29 and 31. Other dancers in the role of Cinderella are: Yuhui Choe, Roberta Marquez, Tamara Rojo and Lauren Cuthbertson — for more details click here, though tickets seem to be almost entirely sold out. If you miss it in 2010, another run of performances is arranged around the Easter period — April 7, 10, 12, 13, 16, 19, 23, 25, and May 3 and 6, but booking is not yet open.

La Valse/ Invitus Invitam/ Winter Dreams/ Theme and Variations, Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, October 2010

The high point of this lovely mixed bill was Theme and Variations, created by Balanchine in 1947 for Alicia Alonso and Igor Youskevitch. The following year Ms. Alonso founded the Cuban National Ballet, and now at almost 90 years old did us the honour of attending, and appearing on stage at the end flanked by Monica Mason and Carlos Acosta. More on him later when we come to Winter Dreams, but in the meantime, what wonderful dancing from Tamara Rojo and Sergei Polunin in Theme and Variations. Their main pas-de-deux was flawlessly executed, and Polunin’s solo, involving a double tour-en-l’air followed by a pirouette — repeated perfectly time after time in perfect harmony with the music — elicited cheers from the audience. This was a wonderful show of classical dance, and indeed Balanchine intended this ballet: “to evoke that great period in classical dancing when Russian ballet flourished with the aid of Tchaikovsky’s music.” The dancing from the entire cast was excellent, and it’s only a shame that the music — the final movement of the Suite No. 3 for Orchestra (opus 55) — was unevenly conducted by Barry Wordsworth. It was lifeless at the beginning but too loud when the trombones all roared into action, though it settled down later.

The first item — Ashton’s choreography for Ravel’s La Valse — was beautifully performed by the company. The music was completed in 1920, encouraged by a commission from Diaghilev, who then rejected it as “untheatrical” and not a ballet but “a portrait of ballet”. Since then it has been choreographed many times, most notably by Balanchine in 1951, and Ashton in 1958. Ravel envisaged La Valse as set at the imperial court of Vienna in 1855, and saw it as “a choreographic poem … a sort of apotheosis of the Viennese waltz … the mad whirl of some fantastic and fateful carousel.” The waltz themes in the music are subject to unexpected modulations and instrumentation, but the conducting did not quite bring out the macabre quality of Ravel’s creation, though the dancing was, as I said, excellent.

Winter Dreams with Acosta and Nuñez, photos by Johan Persson

 

Winter Dreams, to music of Tchaikovsky arranged by Philip Gammon, was beautifully performed by Gammon himself at the piano, along with a small band at the rear of the stage, playing traditional Russian music, and including traditional Russian instruments. This ballet by Kenneth MacMillan is a distillation of Chekhov’s Three Sisters, but its genesis was a pas-de-deux for a gala celebrating the ninetieth birthday of Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother in 1990. After he’d created it MacMillan said, “When I saw it, I realised that this was the farewell between Masha and Vershinin from Three Sisters, and I had to go on and make Winter Dreams”, which he did in 1991. The central pas-de-deux was superbly performed by Marianela Nuñez and Carlos Acosta as Masha and Vershinin, and Masha’s husband was wonderfully portrayed by Jonathan Cope. The other two sisters were beautifully danced by Mara Galeazzi as Olga, and Laura Morera as Irina, and the whole cast performed with elegance and emotion. The ballet is not a rendition of Chekhov’s play, but recreates its melancholy and atmosphere of quiet despair.

Invitus Invitam with Benjamin and Watson

The new item on this mixed bill was Invitus Invitam by Kim Brandstrup, a ballet inspired by the relationship between the Roman emperor Titus, and Berenice, queen in the Roman province of Judaea. Racine created a play Berenice on the story of their ill-fated love. When Titus’s father Vespasian died it seemed he would be free to marry Berenice, but public opinion was against marriage with a foreign queen, and Titus chose duty to Rome over his love for Berenice. The ballet involves three meetings between them. In the first she senses something is amiss, in the second she knows it but resists it, and in the third they meet for the last time before parting forever. The title comes from a single sentence in Suetonius where he says that Titus, who passionately loved Berenice and intended to marry her, let her go invitus invitam (against his will, against her will). Berenice and Titus were danced with subtlety and restrained emotion by Leanne Benjamin and Edward Watson, and this was a fine sequel to the unworldly quality of La Valse. The setting by Richard Hudson, with clever lighting by Lucy Carter, involved lines, circles and spirals appearing on a vast blackboard, with rulings like a piece of graph paper, showing mathematical constructions of angles. This created an atmosphere of calculation and inevitability, and later morphed into brick walls from the Royal Opera House’s Rigoletto set. On the other hand the presence of two people with notes, who seemed to be preparing the scene, suggested that things might always have gone differently, but that is life. It always seems more inevitable in hindsight. Music was by Thomas Adès after Francois Couperin.

That the Royal Ballet could put on these four works in one evening, and do them all to perfection, is a testament to the strength of this company. A single ticket buys an eclectic evening’s entertainment, and further performances will take place on October 18, 22, 28 and 30 — for more details click here.

Review — Serenade, Enigma Variations, and Still Life at the Penguin Café, Birmingham Royal Ballet, April 2009

This triple bill, titled Pomp and Circumstances, was brilliantly danced by the company, with the music beautifully played by the Royal Ballet Sinfonia under the baton of Philip Ellis, who showed great sympathy to both music and dancers.

Balanchine’s Serenade was very well done, though the ‘accidental’ fall towards the end looked a bit too contrived, particularly since the girl loosened her hair so carefully first. But the presentation was clean and Tchaikovsky’s music came over well.

Enigma Variations by Frederick Ashton was fun as usual, with Jonathan Payne and Victoria Marr as Elgar and his wife. The cast did an excellent job: Carol-Anne Millar was a fine Dorabella, with superb chainé turns at the end, James Grundy was very funny in his solo as WMB, and Matthew Lawrence and Natasha Oughtred were a lovely young couple as RPA and Ysobel, to say nothing of the other principals. Again the music was delightfully played under the baton of Philip Ellis.

Finally, Bintley’s  Still Life at the Penguin Café was a rip roaring success. The music by Simon Jeffes is wonderful fun, and the dancing was terrific. Laura Purkiss as the Great Auk started the show with aplomb, and Angela Paul was a beautifully musical Ram, well partnered by Robert Parker, giving us a cabaret act not to be missed. Christopher Larsen was equally musical in his wonderful solo as the Texan Kangaroo Rat, and Carol-Anne Millar was a superb Flea. Chi Cao was the zebra, very well supported by his ladies, including Angela Paul who had changed costumes from being the ram, and changed back again for the finale.

Altogether this was a marvellous triple bill with a great many dancers doing a great many things. Congratulations to the Birmingham Royal Ballet.