Petit Triple Bill: L’Arlésienne, Le jeune homme et la mort, Carmen, English National Ballet, ENB at the London Coliseum, July 2011

Roland Petit died less than two weeks ago, and the remarkable timing of this triple bill made it a wonderful tribute to his choreography. That I happened to go on July 22, rather than the first night was entirely fortuitous, and we were rewarded by an incredible performance of Le jeune homme brilliantly danced by guest artist Ivan Vasiliev, shown in the photo below and making his debut with the company.

Ivan Vasiliev in Jeune Homme, photo by Laurent Liotardo

I’ll come back to this wholly unexpected treat later, but things started more gently with L’Arlésienne, based on a short story and play by Alphonse Daudet. It expresses the anguish and eventual suicide of a young man who cannot forget a woman in Arles. Despite having a lovely fiancée and a group of peasant friends who try to support him, he descends into madness and ends up throwing himself out of a window. The choreography is intriguing, and reminiscent of that wonderful Ballets Russes work Les Noces, showing a wedding ceremony in a tightly knit peasant society. The music for L’Arlésienne was written by Bizet for the original play, and will be familiar from two orchestral suites that are often played. The ensemble dancing was excellent, and Erina Takehashi gave a lovely portrayal of the girl, so full of life. By contrast the young man is heading for death, and although Esteban Berlanga danced it with huge energy, warming to the agony as the ballet progressed, his emotion seemed unconvincing.

Esteban Berlanga in L'Arlésienne, photo by Simon Tomkinson

Carmen, the last item on the programme, is great fun, but to those who know Bizet’s opera the music is not always used for the same scenes in the ballet, and the characterisation is confusing. Don Jose with his cape looks more like a toreador than a simple soldier, and the Toreador himself, who comes in towards the end, is rather too camp. But Adela Ramirez as the Bandit girl was sexy, sassy and adorable, very well supported by Juan Rodriguez and Joshua McSherry-Gray as the bandits. Fabian Reimair was a stylish Don Jose, proudly assertive at the start yet showing a slow descent to desperation, and Begoña Cao was a fiercely cold Carmen. More warmth and emotion from the two main characters would have been welcome, but that had already come in bucketfuls from Ivan Vasiliev in the second item of the programme.

Begoña Cao and Fabian Reimair in Carmen, photo by Patrick Baldwin

Vasiliev was quite extraordinary, and apparently wanted to dance  Jeune Homme as a tribute to Roland Petit’s widow Zizi Jeanmaire. He gave it everything: enormous feeling, terrifying acrobatics, and hugely suppressed desire and emotion. His nemesis was Jia Zhang as the girl — the femme fatale who takes him to his death. She was superbly controlled and manipulative, and immensely desirable in her yellow dress. As he grasped her wrist he gave her a look of quiet desperation, and the two of them together created a glorious effect. In the final minute and a half the room vanishes and we see rooftops. It’s a fabulous set, costing an arm and a leg, but worth every penny, and this was a truly memorable occasion. Wonderful conducting by Benjamin Pope, particularly of the Bach music for Jeune Homme.

We don’t see enough of Roland Petit’s work in this country so go to this if you have the chance. Performances continue until July 24 — for details click here.

Romeo and Juliet, English National Ballet, ENB, London Coliseum, January 2011

Just to make sure we understand the fateful denouement, four figures of fate appear at the beginning and end, but apart from this, and the final reconciliation between Capulets and Montagues, it’s Shakespeare with Prokofiev’s glorious music. The choreography by Rudolf Nureyev lacks the understatement of Kenneth Macmillan’s version, but fully makes up for it in masculine strength and bravado, coupled with sheer inventiveness that helps define the characters of Juliet and her cousin Tybalt, along with Romeo and Mercutio on the Montague side.

Daria Klimentova and Vadim Mutagirov, photo by Annabel Moeller

The dancing was superb indeed. Vadim Mutagirov made a wonderfully elegant Romeo, and danced like a god. Daria Klimentova as his Juliet played the role to perfection, and her evident dislike of Daniel Kraus’s anxious and clingy Paris came over very well, particularly her distress with the wedding dress in Act III. Juliet’s fondness for Tybalt is expressed in a brief pas-de-deux in Act I, and Fabian Reimair was the kind of Tybalt one could almost feel sorry for — a fiery impulsive young man whose skill with the sword is insufficient to match his angry intentions. Juliet’s shock and lamentation at his death was wracked with emotion. Max Westwell danced strongly as Benvolio, and Juan Rodriguez was superb as Mercutio in a role that is played partly as a comic act but with an added sense of drama when he is mortally wounded by Tybalt, and his friends see his death throes as mere play-acting, which they applaud. Rodriguez — a last minute replacement for Yat-Sen Chang — was entirely convincing in the role, and Paul Lewis was outstanding as Lord Capulet, showing perfect timing and fine musicality. The whole cast danced beautifully, both in the solo parts and the ensemble pieces.

Nureyev’s choreography gives a real edge to the fight scenes, and the punch-up in Act I sets the stage for the extraordinary enmity we witness between two feuding families. He first created the production for this company — known then as the London Festival Ballet — in 1977, dancing the role of Romeo himself. This revival is staged by Patricia Ruanne and Frederic Jahn, who were the original Juliet and Tybalt. It has a thrilling energy, just like Nureyev himself, and is only slightly undermined by the frequent changes of scene, and the dream sequences. The dancers are all utterly committed to acting their roles, and I only wish the Company would get rid of those supers who appear front-stage at the sides in Act II, spoiling the body language expressed by the rest of the cast.

Prokofiev’s music has been slightly rearranged, partly so that additional parts of the story can be expressed, such as the attack on Friar John who carries Lawrence’s letter to Romeo in Mantua. The news of Juliet’s apparent death is brought to Romeo by Benvolio, and the arpeggios that express Juliet’s frenzied frustration in Act III before she consults Friar Lawrence, reappear here to express Romeo’s appalling distress, along with very physical choreography between him and Benvolio. There is much to enjoy and absorb in this fine production, and Gavin Sutherland brought out the power and beauty of the music after a sluggish start during the introduction.

Performances continue until January 15 — for more details click here.