Posts Tagged ‘Elisha Willis’

Grosse Fuge/ Lyric Pieces/ Take Five, Birmingham Royal Ballet, BRB, Sadler’s Wells, October 2012

24 October, 2012

This triple bill, titled Opposites Attract, concludes with Hans van Manen’s fine 1971 ballet Grosse Fuge to orchestral music by Beethoven, but in the meantime we are treated to two more recent works with music of a lighter texture.

All images BRB/ Roy Smiljanic

The programme starts with David Bintley’s Take Five to jazz music created by the Dave Brubeck Quartet. This is fun. Lighting by Peter Mumford shows clear colourful lines, and costumes by Jean-Marc Puissant exhibit a 1950s charm, particularly the dresses with their matching colours and white collars for the girls in the pas-de-trois. Bintley’s choreography in this second section is beautifully gentle, but things quickly change into a fast solo brilliantly danced by Joseph Caley. Then in the Two Step when Tyrone Singleton joins Elisha Willis he suddenly gives her a definition she lacked, and his solo work was terrific. The Four Square section for men that immediately follows was strongly danced by all, with Joseph Caley and William Bracewell particularly notable, and the cast then came together for an excellent finale.

Dancers and concertinas in Lyric Pieces

Following the first interval was Jessica Lang’s new work Lyric Pieces first shown in Birmingham in May 2012. Lang, once a dancer with Twyla Tharp’s company, created this to piano music by Grieg and complemented her choreography by pieces of black pleated scenery, concertinas that the dancers move into position and occasionally manipulate. Like the previous ballet this one divides into named sections, from solos — and there was a very fine one here danced by Yvette Knight — to sections for two and more performers. The penultimate one called Phantom was hugely lyrical, particularly in the way it was danced with beautiful fluid movements by Jenna Roberts and Iain MacKay. Grieg’s piano music was beautifully played by Jonathan Higgins, and this ballet exuded a refreshing feel, forming an ideal counterbalance to the final item.

Iain Mackay in Grosse Fuge

Grosse Fuge by Hans van Manen also uses four guys and four girls, and the black of the sets for the previous work becomes the black of the trouser-skirts for the men. These are removed in the second part, showing black trunks secured by a belt that the girls can grasp hold of, and van Manen created these costumes as well as the choreography. The music is late Beethoven, written originally for his B flat quartet (op.130), and the grosse Fuge that originally ended the quartet was used here for the first part, while its later replacement by a lighter allegro was used for the second part. As the ballet progresses the girls, who stood apart from the boys at the start, began to join in and the dancers work in couples giving meaning to the title of this triple bill: Opposites Attract.

From jazz to solo piano to orchestral music well conducted by Koen Kessels, the musical textures form a delightful triple.

Performances continue on October 24 (mat. and eve.) at Sadler’s Wells — details here — and on October 25, 26 and 27 the Company will dance a different triple — details here.

Daphnis and Chloë/ The Two Pigeons, Birmingham Royal Ballet, BRB, London Coliseum, March 2012

14 March, 2012

Essential for first rate ballet are music and choreography, and this double bill provides them in spades, along with some very fine dancing.

Daphnis and Chloë, all images Bill Cooper

Both ballets involve young lovers splitting apart, yet reunited at the end, and both are choreographed by one of the great masters of the twentieth century, Frederick Ashton. His creations were entirely new, the original choreography for Daphnis and Chloë being lost, and Messager’s score for Two Pigeons being re-orchestrated by John Lanchbery, who rounded it off at the end with a return to the scene at the start, the lovers together again in the studio. Musically and choreographically these are a must-see. Ravel’s music for Daphnis and Chloë is one of the world’s great ballet scores, and though the music for Two Pigeons may be less well known it is simply glorious. Conducting by Koen Kessels was hugely powerful, yet entirely sensitive to the dancers.

The dancing itself was excellent, the corps work very fine, and Elisha Willis gave a lovely performance as both the virginal Chloë and the hot-blooded gypsy girl in Two Pigeons, who causes the young painter to leave his lover and run after her. She filled both roles with conviction, and Robert Parker and Nao Sakuma as the lovers in Pigeons were a delight. Strong dancing all round, with superb sets, costumes and lighting.

The designs for Daphnis and Chloë are John Craxton’s originals for Ashton’s ballet, the gathered skirts for the women and belted trousers and shirtsleeves for the men bringing the classical remoteness of this story into the Mediterranean world so well evoked by Ravel’s score. And the stylised sets, though highly evocative of the period in which they were created, give a timeless background to the story.

The Two Pigeons: Robert Parker and Nao Sakuma

In Two Pigeons, Jacques Dupont’s lovely set, with its window to the city and sky, was beautifully lit by Mark Jonathan, the colours of the sky evincing a magical appeal for the anchored freedom of rooftops, and life in the upper floor of a city building. And those pigeons, seeming to fly free outside the window yet with one flying in to join the other at the end, evoke the beauty of this charming story.

These two ballets form a superb double bill, but it will be over in the blink of an eye, so fly down to see it without delay. There is a matinée and evening performance at the London Coliseum on March 14 — for details click here.

BRB Triple: Checkmate, Symphonic Variations, Pineapple Poll, Birmingham Royal Ballet, Sadler’s Wells, October 2011

20 October, 2011

The tranquil centre of this triple bill is Symphonic Variations, one of Frederick Ashton’s greatest ballets. He produced it in spring 1946 as something of an antidote to the recent war, providing a wonderful serenity to the mystical calm of César Franck’s music. Yet for the dancers this serenity is a great challenge. The six of them must function perfectly together, almost as if they were a corps de ballet, though the choreography is not remotely corps de ballet material. For instance those low lifts in which the girl performs flickering airborne beats are very hard, but the six dancers on Wednesday evening made it look easy. This is a triumph for the Birmingham Royal Ballet, which can now take this treasure around the country to audiences unfamiliar with it.

Symphonic Variations, different cast, photo Roy Smiljanic

The six dancers, with Jenna Roberts and Iain Mackay in the centre, and Arancha Baselga, Laura-Jane Gibson, Jamie Bond and Tzu-Chao Chou on the sides, worked beautifully together. It is invidious to pick out any one dancer, since all were so good, but I do find it remarkable that the two side girls both danced red pawns in the previous ballet, Checkmate. Neither of them is yet a soloist, but they are obviously destined for greater things and Arancha Baselga’s musicality shone through among a very musical cast. The essence of this ballet is Franck’s music with its sublime blending of orchestra and piano, played here by Jonathan Higgins, and Ashton’s choreography shows his extraordinary ability to fit dance with music. This one piece is worth the whole Triple Bill, and is a lovely contrast to the first and last items, which are full of action.

Five of the red pawns in Checkmate, photo Terry Emment

The evening starts with Ninette de Valois’s Checkmate to music by Arthur Bliss, created in 1937 for the Vic-Wells Ballet, the progenitor of the Royal Ballet. Philip Ellis’s conducting gave the music a quietly mysterious feel at the start of the prologue, but it gradually built as the chess game commenced. Samara Downs was a prettily seductive black queen, and Chi Cao showed fine stage presence and a wonderfully firm line as the first red knight. The battle of chess pieces is an ideal precursor to Symphonic Variations, and the evening found a perfect ending in Pineapple Poll.

A couple in Pineapple Poll, photo Graeme Braidwood

Poll is based on W.S. Gilbert’s tale, ‘The Bumboat Woman’s Story’, as to some extent is the Gilbert and Sullivan opera HMS Pinafore. The ballet is John Cranko’s, using music by Sullivan arranged by Charles Mackerras, along with Osbert Lancaster’s glorious designs. Cranko’s story gives us a younger heroine, extra romance, and it’s all huge fun. The Bumboat woman, Pineapple Poll was delightfully danced by Elisha Willis, with César Morales as her adored Captain Belaye, superbly stylised and dancing his hornpipe with delightful panache. Laura Purkiss was charmingly sweet as his fiancée, with Victoria Marr as her absent-minded aunt who turns into Britannia wrapped in a union jack at the end, and Mathias Dingman was Jasper, who finally gets his girl, the lovely Poll. For sheer exhilaration and the ability to tell a story in dance this is as good as it gets.

This fine BRB triple bill opens an intriguing window on the development of British ballet in the mid-twentieth century. From Ninette de Valois’s Checkmate before the Second World War, to the Ashton’s Symphonic Variations immediately after it, and then to Cranko’s Pineapple Poll in 1951. All are creations of British choreographers and designers, and apart from Franck, so is the music.

Performances continue at the Theatre Royal Plymouth on October 25 and 26 — for more details click here.

Cinderella, Birmingham Royal Ballet (BRB), London Coliseum, March 2011

30 March, 2011

Stage versions of Cinderella are many and varied. In Rossini’s opera there’s a pompous stepfather, in Massenet’s a stepmother, and in Ashton’s classic ballet a father. But all agree that Cinderella’s mother has died, and in David Bintley’s new production we see a glimpse of her funeral during the overture. It’s a brief but poignant scene, well supported by Prokofiev’s music, as is much else in Bintley’s new creation — seen here in London for the first time.

The magic starts, all photos by Bill Cooper

The two stepsisters are played here as obnoxiously juvenile girls, their teasing easily turning to pushing and shoving, but they can also be funny and I loved the incidents at the ball with the major domo’s staff of office. Above all, however, is the nasty stepmother, brilliantly portrayed by Marion Tait. Her ball dress was stunning, and when the prince brings the slipper to the house she follows her awful daughters in trying it on . . . before Cinderella herself comes forward.

Frog coachman, lizard footmen and mouse pages

The business with the slippers is very cleverly done, starting in the kitchen scene of Act I. Cinderella brings out a red box containing a portrait of her mother, and two pretty bejewelled slippers. The stepsisters suddenly enter and grab them, until more urgent matters claim their attention and Cinders can hide them again. Then when everyone’s gone, and she’s alone again, the fire suddenly springs to life and a barefooted old crone appears from nowhere, seated next to it. Cinderella gives her the precious slippers, catalyzing the magic. Bintley uses the slippers very skilfully and when Cinders returns from the ball she fishes out the red box again, hiding her remaining slipper. Once again the wretched sisters burst in again and grab it, but this time they are interrupted by the arrival of the prince himself, and Cinderella, unable to hide the box in its usual place, sits by the fire holding it. This seems an awkward moment for her while the sisters and stepmother try on the slipper, but then shyly and slowly she comes forward with the matching slipper. There is no rush, and this important moment is given full focus, creating a sense of wonder, well supported by Prokofiev’s glorious music.

Elisha Willis and Iain Mackay, Act III

The music is well used, and Bintley’s production manages to insert magic into moments that are sometimes missed, greatly helped by Koen Kessels’ wonderfully sympathetic conducting. Designs by John Macfarlane express the dichotomy between the cold looking kitchen and the mysterious world beyond for the seasons and the stars, glimpsed in the distant background of the ball scene. I loved the way the coach came together at the end of Act I, taking Cinderella off to the ball, and I loved the clock, as it came together in Act II, with its inner workings showing the rapid passing of time. Lighting by David Finn was excellent and I particularly liked the gradual visibility of the ball scene at the start of Act II.

The corps de ballet and soloists danced beautifully and Elisha Willis was a lovely Cinderella, showing refinement and strength in reserve, well deserving her very handsome prince in the form of Iain Mackay. Victoria Marr was a gentle fairy godmother, and the sisters were very amusingly portrayed by Gaylene Cummerfield and Carol-Anne Millar — I particularly liked Ms. Cummerfield’s clumsiness at the ball, sickling her foot most horribly at one point. And throughout it all, Marion Tait as the stepmother, holds the stage with a nod and glance.

This production by David Bintley has moments of magic, and when you go you should buy a programme to read Neil Philip’s interesting essay on the myth of Cinderella, including a version connected with the folk tale aspect of Shakespeare’s King Lear.

Performances at the London Coliseum continue until April 2 — for more information, and to book on-line, click here.

Review — Cyrano, Birmingham Royal Ballet, at Sadler’s Wells, November 2009.

13 November, 2009

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This is the second of two ballet programmes by the BRB at Sadler’s Wells, the other one being a triple bill called Quantum Leaps.

Cyrano was originally created by David Bintley for the Royal Ballet in 1991, but this new version for the Birmingham Royal Ballet has a completely new score by Carl Davis. The music is atmospheric, well suiting Bintley’s ballet, which is based on the 1897 play Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand. It’s about a noble seventeenth century fellow named Cyrano with a horribly long nose, who is in love with his cousin Roxane. She in turn is interested in the callow young cadet Christian, and the plot is complicated by the fact that her guardian, the Comte de Guiche intends to marry her himself. Roxane asks Cyrano to deliver a love letter to Christian, and since the young fellow can’t read or write he asks Cyrano to write to Roxane on his behalf. The scene is then set for Roxane to fall helplessly in love with the letter writer whom she believes to be Christian. De Guiche manipulates events so that Christian is killed in battle, and Roxane then enters a convent in despair. She sees her cousin, Cyrano regularly, not knowing he is seriously wounded, nor that he loves her and has written all those beautiful letters. When she finds out, it’s too late and he dies in her arms.

Robert Parker was superb as Cyrano, with strong stage presence, precision in dancing, ability to express emotions, and playing well with the humorous parts. Elisha Willis was an utterly charming Roxane and her pas-de-deux with Cyrano in Act I was beautifully performed. This is a lovely piece of choreography, where she teasingly holds on to the letter she’s written. The supporting dancers all did well, with Iain Mackay as Christian, Chi Cao as Cyrano’s aide Le Bret, Christopher Larsen as Ragueneau the baker, Dominic Antonucci as the horrid De Guiche, and Marion Tait as the Duenna, who looks after Roxane. It’s always a pleasure to see her on stage, with her fine musicality. This is a ballet with plenty of ensemble dance for the men, and they performed it extremely well.

The designs by Hayden Griffin are wonderful, and I loved Roxane’s costumes. The fights, directed by Malcolm Ranson, were entertaining, but suffered from the usual weakness of people dropping dead without any apparent blow being struck. It was all very effectively lit by Mark Jonathan, and very well conducted by Wolfgang Heinz. Altogether this is a ballet to appeal to those who like a good story, and after a slow beginning it picked up later and the use of mime was very cleverly done. In fact it’s rather remarkable to turn into dance a story about a man who is good with words, but I think Bintley has succeeded.