EXACTLY WHAT IS THE VAGANOVA METHOD...and WHAT IS IT NOT?

Agrippina Vaganova with a young Russian ballet student

The Vaganova Method

What is it? What is it not?

February 12, 2019


Agrippina Vaganova was a dancer with the Mariinsky Ballet who began her teaching career in the 1920's. She developed an innovative approach to ballet training that unified the upper and lower body, removing the traditional focus on the legs and feet of the dancer by synchronizing the placement of the head and shoulders with the placement of the legs and feet. Her approach to technique creates greater fluidity of line, more expressive port de bras and more flexibility of the torso. The position of the head and shoulders always corresponds with the position of the legs and feet. When standing at the ballet barre, as the dancer points her right leg forward in tendu, she simultaneously tilts her head to the right, shifting her shoulders to accommodate her head. When she extends her right leg behind her, she tilts her head to the left, once again shifting her shoulders. The correspondence running from head to toe lengthens the line of the body and also creates the illusion of long legs and height. Before the Vaganova Method was introduced, training had focused primarily on building up the legs and feet so that dancers could pull off the multiple pirouettes and breath taking leaps that, along with all manner of bravura stunts, so dazzled and delighted audiences. The beauty and power of the Vaganova Method literally breathed life into the dancer above the waist. Today it is taught at all the major ballet schools in Russia, including both the Mariinsky and the Bolshoi, and has been disseminated throughout the West in a number of annexes. Note: The Vaganova Method is a form of instruction that focuses singularly on technique. While the result may be what is called style, it exists for the purposes of training and has nothing whatever to do with sentiment, mood or emotion in dance.

NUTS AND BOLTS: At the ballet barre, when the dancer points his foot/leg forward or backward in a tendu, he shifts his neck, [epaulement] and head at the same angle. By synchronizing the two ends of the body, the dancer acquires the illusion of height and extremehis/her legs seem longer.  and thereinforcing the angle of the leg/foot with that of the head, a dancer's legs look longer; reinforcement of the angle of it not only makes athe leg look longer, it lengthens the impression of the entire body. When facing directly forward, the head remains stationary as the leg moves sideways. The shoulders shift to correspond and/or sometimes contrast with the synchronization of the parts of the body in relationship to the direction of the legs/feet. This causes a broadening of the upper body and shoulders, and elongates the neck and arms as well. Strength becomes anchored in the shoulders, providing additional strength and leverage for the dancer.

During the port de bras, the arms are held in a slightly rounded position. The fingers are slightly rounded and separated, the middle finger curving furthest toward the palm than the other fingers. If you were to follow both arms downward from fifth position above the head (en haut) to second position (sideways), the palms would turn upward as they neared the height of the waist line. As the arms continued to descend, the palms would turn downward, the wrist would flex slightly and the fingers would trail for a moment as the arms descended toward first position below (en base), returning to their slightly rounded position. Both in first and fifth position the hands are seen sideways, with the thumb and second finger seen first in first position and the pinkie and fourth finger seen first in fifth position above.

As the synchronization of the head, shoulders, arms, hands, legs/feet is achieved by the student dancer through regular practice, it eventually becomes second-nature to the dancer. The dancer moves this way when given any combination of ballet steps to perform. The head tilts automatically with the projection of the leg in a certain direction, etc. Thus, the unification of the lower and upper body is achieved unconsciously. The Vaganova Method gives a dancer greater means by which to express herself with her arms than ever before. It was a huge innovation in ballet technique for this reason. It gave the dancer a greater vocabulary, in a sense. But again, it is a technique, not a style.

Agrippina Vaganova

This training could be given at the New York City Ballet's school, the School of American Ballet, where dancers are trained specifically in a way that will enable them to dance the Balanchine repertory. With great foresight, Balanchine understood that creating a school that would provide a steady stream of well-trained dancers took precedence over establishing a ballet company; S.A.B. was founded in 1934. The New York City Ballet was founded in 1948. During the interim years various smaller companies were started and folded for financial reasons. There was not yet a large enough group of sophisticated New Yorkers interested in abstract ballets created by Balanchine. When the Ford Foundation provided S.A.B. with a huge endowment in 1970, it was able to expand its efforts to scour the United States for the most talented dancers and bring them to the New York at the age of fourteen to begin training at S.A.B. full-time and attending school in Manhattan. From this point on, the strictness with regard to aesthetic standards for dancer's bodies was strictly enforced. After Balanchine's death Peter Martins allowed this aesthetic to be more inclusive of a wider variety of body types. This was both to his credit and a reflection of the acquired wisdom of several decades of ballet dancers lapsing into anorexia and other eating disorders in order to become extremely thin.

Much of what marks the Balanchine technique amounts to style, with the exception of the innovation of the back leg in fourth position, which is held straight when in demi-plié. Were the Vaganova Method to be incorporated with Balanchine training, with the exception of the unique approach to fourth position, which could be introduced from the beginning, Vaganova training could simply precede introduction to Balanchine style. It would ideally be emphasized during the first four years of training from the age of eight, for girls. Certainly it should ingrained in female dancers before they go on pointe at the age of twelve, which requires four years of frequent and regular classes in order to strengthen the back and feet and allow the bones of each to mature fully enough to bear the weight of the body on the tips of the toes. Balanchine style, which focuses mainly on idiosyncratic use of the arms, can be introduced as late as the age of twelve or fourteen. The descent of the arms from fifth position to first position is marked by the elongation of the elbows and straightening of the entire arm as it approaches the height of the waist line, the exaggerated flexing of the wrist and flapping of the entire hand as it trails after the arm making its descent to first position. After Balanchine's demise the importance of pressing down the shoulders to elevate the neck from the body was abandoned for some reason; perhaps many of the teachers from the Mariinsky passed on and this lapse can be attributed to that. Actually, it can first be spotted in the dancing of Merrill Ashley, a tall, unusually large-boned virtuoso of Balanchine's who did not clutter her straightforward, cowgirl kind of dancing with regal elevation of the head or languorous posing. The tendency of dancers at the NYCB to forget to press their shoulders down was epitomized by the gnome like dancing of Kyra Nichols, whose hunched shoulders made her short neck look even shorter. I don't recall a single critic or fan ever noting this, much to my puzzlement. Later Balanchine dancers who heralded what was called the "revival" of the New York City Ballet after its period of dormancy following Balanchine's death, such as Sara Mearns, Maria Kowrowski and Teresa Reichlin, have returned pressing their shoulders down. Their long necked appearances and control of the upper body gives a dancer both grace and strength. At any rate, the eccentricity of Balanchine's highly stylized port de bras, which underscores the overt sexuality in much of his choreography, does not conflict in any way with the Vaganova Method. If anything, early training in the Vaganova technique would endow City Ballet dancers with a larger vocabulary for their port de bras. The combination of the Vaganova Method with regard to arms and the eccentricities of Balanchine arms would be most appealing.

At any rate, when a student receives Vaganova training early and consistently for at least 2-3 years, it becomes engrained in their execution of ballet steps and combinations. Beautiful port de bras is the ultimate reward. It becomes second-nature to such dancers as performers, unconscious, as it were. The dancer would have to work very hard to turn off the synchronized tilting of the head and use of the special sculpting of the epaulement. How does one recognize Vaganova training in a dancer? Thalia Mara taught it in New York in the 1960's at the National Academy of Ballet and Theater Arts, a school that was modeled after the Russian state school, the Vaganova Academy. Jolinda Menendez, a former principal dancer with ABT and Clark Tippet, a former soloist of ABT (now deceased) trained at NABTA. But for the most part, the Vaganova Methodd is disseminated through the Russian schools and Russian teachers and their annexes of such schools in the west.

The easiest way for the layman who is an avid fan of ballet to spot the Vaganova Method among dancers is to watch the corps de ballet of the Bolshoi Ballet in a performance of Swan Lake. When the swans line up in two long rows, making snakelike formations on either side of the stage, they move their arms unison. At this moment it is easy to distinguish the brand of the Vaganova Method in the port de bras of the swans. In reverse, an individual trained in the Vaganova Method as a student can often spot the Vaganova training in an individual dancer. However, while it has much to offer, the Vaganova technique itself does not determine the strength or weakness of the dancer. Ideally, the student dancer begins sooner than later, and with a female dancer, no later than the age of eight or nine. Classes must be taken frequently and regularly with no interruption. During the first four years of training, a female dancer prepares to go on pointe at the age of twelve. Prior to this, the bones are not fully enough formed; any teacher who puts a dancer on pointe before twelve is a dangerous person. Female dancers who begin their training too late often struggle with the demanding pointe work required of dancers today. It is virtually impossible to make up for lost time. There are a few exceptions to this rule but, generally speaking, it can be applied with complete strictness. Things must be done in a timely manner; even great talent cannot make up for deficiencies in training. Gillian Murphy wowed audiences with her stunt-fouettés in 2005, raising the bar for dancers all over America, but she had the artistry to match her technical proficiency. Any female dancer who does not begin dancing until the age of thirteen or fourteen cannot possibly hope to attain Murphy's technical prowess. Nor should she be expected to. Such a dancer may have other things to offer. At any rate, if a dancer has begun training early enough and had good training regularly without interruption, by the age of fourteen she should have all of the tools that she needs at her finger tips in order to develop an an impressive technique. By this stage, all of the colors of the palette are at her disposal. It becomes a question of how hard the dancer wants to work, how great a facility she has for focusing on details and how much energy and drive she has to dance. It can take anywhere from two to four years to achieve a professional technique. And from then on, the dancer will continue growing. The longevity of a dancer's career comes down to training and genetics. But in the end, we must resort to the immortal words of Galina Ulanova, "Talent is work." 

In recent years, a lot of talk has gone on about how ballet dancers today have surpassed the technical limits of their predecessors. However, when the Royal Ballet visited New York throughout the 1960's, the pointe work of the average female member of the corps de ballet exceeded anything we see today in any company in America today. When it came to turns, clean landings were of utmost importance as; a full turn separated the great from the good. No one on stage was under pressure to raise their leg to their ear or do hypo-extended splits while tumbling through the air. In the 1980's, excessive athleticism became popular in American ballet and generations of dancers began straining on stage on a regular basis; it is very disturbing to watch. Every time a ballerina strikes an arabesque or an attitude, she need not feel the pressure to balance endlessly on pointe just because she can. Multiple turns performed by male dancers need not run into double digits every single time. Many of the so called "great turners" of today are actually spinning, not turning, robbing the audience of sensuality and suspense of a well-executed pirouette. The dancers raises up slightly on the bottom of his foot, standing just shy of demi-pointe and tears off 12, 13 or 14 turns. This is a sham. The foot should be fully-flexed in relevé, the entire weight of the ball of the foot pressing flush against the floor as he completes each revolution. It takes both speed and control and is immensely satisfying to watch. Dancers should strive to create beauty of form before they attack virtuosity; Herculean feats performed under a strain create much stress in the course of an evening. Dancers should aim to transported their audiences to another world and forget about stunt dancing.

THE HUNGARIAN NATIONAL BALLET's SINGULAR SWAN LAKE, Nov. 7, 2018

The Hungarian National Ballet Company's Swan Lake

The Hungarian National Ballet's Singular Swan Lake

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

November 7, 2018

New York, New York

After having to cancel numerous performances earlier this week at the David H. Koch Theater, the Hungarian National Ballet went up in what would be their single performance of Swan Lake. I salute their chutzpah. The house was packed and they received a rare show of support. Conductor of the Hungarian National Orchestra, Balsázs Kosárs, unleashed the joyful, exuberant sound of what is one of three of the greatest scores composed by Tchaikovsky for the ballet, filling the house with ample volume. Swan Lake is one of his most uplifting and buoyant scores ever written for dance, but no matter which way you try to spin it, the story of Swan Lake is an out and out tragedy. Yet no matter how dramatic a ballerina's portrait of the doomed princess, Odette, when you leave the theater at the end of the night, you want to waltz out through the lobby dancing. It was clear from the start the HNB's Artistic Director, András Almási-Tóth did not wish to deliver a conventional version of this beloved classic--why bother putting New York audiences to sleep? Created by Rudi Van Dantzig after Petipa and Ivanov, the production takes numerous narrative and artistic risks that ensure the achievement of this end and make for a very unusual evening at the ballet. Van Dantzig attempts to make the story more accessible by embellishing the action and introducing several new features, such as a childhood friendship between Siegfried, danced by Gergely LeBlanc, and his friend, Alexander, danced by Dmitry Diachov. Those who are fond of the insane plot of Swan Lake may not appreciate Van Dantzig's clever use of narrative devices. The intrusion of Alexander seemed to strike more than a few jaded New Yorkers as an unusual ploy. Some imagined that they detected a homoerotic vibe between Siegfried and Alexander, something that clearly was not the intention of Van Dantzig. Hungary is well known for being an extremely homophobic place; it is doubtful that the HNB would have chosen a production that wishes to raise questions about Siegfried's sexual identity. Rather, the boyhood friendship between Siegfried and Alexander is a symbol of something that has become too comfortable and now prohibits Siegfried's growth. Appropriate in boyhood, it has run its course and Siegfried must discard it if he is to marry and become the ruler of his kingdom. By introducing this seemingly innocuous relationship so early in the ballet, Van Dantzig establishes an aspect of the theme of transformation that is central to Swan Lake.

In Act 1, we find ourselves at a party in the garden outside the castle where Siegfried resides with his mother. Toer van Schayk designed the sets and costumes, sparing no expense to evoke the lush, verdant landscape of 17th century Flanders and the opulent exterior of the palace. The ballet opens with the traditional birthday bash for the young prince, who has just turned 18. Numerous well wishers engage in Hungarian folk dances choreographed by the multi-talented Toer van Schayk, who also choreographed numerous national dances and variations in Act 3. In Act 1, the simplicity and charm of Hungarian folk dance was underscored by the presence of small children and female dancers in long, plain skirts and peasant blouses unadorned by ribbons or bows. Hungarian folk dance, like the Hungarian language, is something that is unique to Hungary. Ballet audiences would be mistaken to compare it to the character dances of Russia, Eastern Europe or Poland; certainly, it should not be confused with the acrobatics of the Moiseyev Dance Company of Moscow. The gentle candor of the movement of this unique dance form is yet another singular feature of HNB's Swan Lake.

In Act 1, Van Dantzig adds a slight twist to the plot. Siegfried's care free counterpart, Alexander, has made the party a surprise, forgetting that members of the court may show up and placing Siegfried in an awkward position. This establishes the difference in rank between the two boys. When the Queen appears suddenly, Siegfried is terribly embarrassed that he is not properly dressed to receive her. His attempt to straddle spontaneity and propriety leaves him looking very foolish. The Queen presents him with the gift of a wedding ring, underscoring the obvious. Soon he must choose a bride and resume responsibility for running his father's kingdom. Siegfried's father is dead; he never knew him. That, combined with the fact that he is shy and awkward with girls, makes the prospect of marriage and leadership weigh heavily on him.When the Queen departs, we watch him undergo a radical change in mood. Feeling that he cannot live up to his mother's expectations, he lapses into melancholy. Alexander, the more well-adjusted and extroverted of the pair, has no concept of the pressure that Siegfried is under. As the party winds down, he suggests that he and Siegfried flirt aimlessly with girls, hoping to cheer his buddy up. But this only makes Siegfried feel worse; he flees the scene. When he ventures into the woods, hoping to escape the pressure he is under by thrashing about with a bow and arrow, his actions simultaneously convey a reversion to the games of youth and a metaphor for his search for personal truth. Alexander follows behind loyally and is eventually told to bugger off. Siegfried finds himself alone last. Here he can create the solitude in which he will begin to grapple with the internal change that life is demanding of him.

Tatiana Melnik, an elegant ballerina with pale auburn hair, brings a new maturity to the dual role of Odette/Odile, one of the most demanding parts for a ballerina among the "story ballets." Today, it has come to be thought of as the test of a ballerina's mettle, but it is in fact a test of a dancer's stamina, emotional range and ability to imitate a bird. Odette is a princess who long ago was transformed into a swan by the wicked spell of an evil magician. The same ballerina portrays her counterpart, Odile, the magician's sister and accomplice. Melnik's tendency to play Odette as terribly fragile sometimes translated into sheer exhaustion but, overall, she was secure in her role. (She may have been recovering from an injury for, occasionally, at the beginning or end of a long passage, she teetered on pointe.) Melnik's Odette is neither a complainer nor a drama queen, but a grown woman resigned to her fate as the captive of the wicked magician, Rothbart, danced vigorously by Mikalai Radziush. Long ago, he transformed her into a piece of fowl; she can only manifest in human form at nightfall by the edge of the lake. During the day she resides in the water, gliding about like a duck, presumably. Rothbart presides over her affairs from atop a rock formation overlooking the water. A huge, gawking bird, he continually flaps his wings, which are covered with hideous green feathers. He watches Odette closely and for good reason; should some wonderful man stumble into the picture and fall in love with her, vowing to love her and prove his fidelity, Odette will be released from the wretched spell that has ruined her life. And thankfully, in Act 2, it appears as though that happy day has come. The fixed aspect of transformation that is part of Odette's character is indirectly reflected by the ballet's focus on this important transitional and developmental moment in Siegfried's life. He stumbles across Odette as he takes aim at a large bird circling in the air. Traditionally, Siegfried sees Odette in the sky and raises his bow and arrow, mistaking her for a bird. She flutters to the ground, pleading for her life. In this version, Rothbart is flapping about so much that it appears that Odette enters, pleading with Siegfried to spare Rothbart's life. Too much activity on stage wrought confusion, or perhaps Van Dantzig wishes to establish Rothbart's domination over Odette by having her patrol the skies. 

Transformed into a woman, Odette emerges in the darkness, preening and shaking off her feathers. Siegfried perceives a strange but ravishing vision of femininity. They enter into a dialogue in which she tells her sad story and explains why she's got feathers sprouting out of her hind parts. She brings out Siegfried's protective instincts, making him feel manly and noble. He vows to love her and be faithful to her, determined to free her from bondage. Odette has struck lucky! Siegfried's vow is sincere. But does he really love Odette? This is the question the ballet Swan Lake raises that nobody ever gets around to asking, usually because they're too busy trying figure out what the heck is going on. Certainly, Siegfried is infatuated, but just how serious is he? A few minutes later, he leaves Odette to attend a party in his honor back at the palace. It all seems a little impulsive, but, as a royal, he would be bound take his social obligations seriously. He intends to return--in fact, he must if he ever hopes to see Odette without her feathers in the light of day. But just how well does he really know this bird? Determined to keep up appearances, he dashes off to prepare for the big shindig.

LeBlanc struggled technically throughout the evening, but never faltered in his self-assurance or the straightforward manner in which he conveyed Siegfried's love for Odette. It is rare to see technical inadequacy and temerity of heart side by side in a dancer, but his was a performance that lacked inhibitions of any kind. Despite his limitations, I admired the sincerity that he brought to his execution of the role. In Act 1 he conveyed Siegfried's genuine misery, awkwardness and loneliness. As things progressed, he committed fully to every phase of his love for Odette. In Act 1, Diachov brought good cheer and technical verve to his part, projecting genuine affection for Siegfried. Although the court now discourages their friendship they remain loyal to each other. Much can be said about the skilled dancing of the corps de ballet. In Act 2, the swans moved beautifully about the stage in one, unified body., led by the handsome Ellina Pokhodnyk and Kristina Starostina. The beloved variation of The Four Swans was faithfully executed by Nadezhda Sorokina, Yuka Asai, Olga Chernakova and Lili Feméery, a dance that was performed expertly and with no affectation.

In Act 3 Rothbart and his sister and accomplice, Odile, arrive uninvited at the ball, the latter intending to seduce Siegfried so that he will break his vow of fidelity to Odette. Toer van Schayk's choreography includes national dances and variations of all sort.The spirited dancing of the highly qualified soloists, each adorned in bright silks and satin trimmed with braid or festive ribbon, was delightful to behold, but the old adage "less is more" quickly came to mind. Princesses who vie for Siegfried's favor provide some comic relief--one becomes tipsy and and another tries too hard push herself forward--the two lock horns. Myriad types of entertainment are offered up in honor of Siegfried and the Queen. By the time Odile and Siegfried began the Black Swan pas de deux, Act 3 has begun to lag. Nevertheless, Melnik made a dazzling Black Swan, polishing off 32 fouettés with finesse, working in double pirouettes between fouettés, and looking both delicate and regal in her black feathers. Siegfried asks his mother to allow him to ask for Odile's for her hand in marriage, instantly destroying his vow of fidelity to Odette. His realization that he's been duped by Rothbart and Odile comes about in a wave of intuition that sweeps over him. In the traditional version, we see a vision of Odette in Siegfried's mind's eye, a sole figure in white, upstage, flapping her wings in distress. But this is omitted from Van Dantzig's production. Instead, Siegfried is experiencing the pangs of an awakening conscience. After realizing that Rothbart's plot has ruined his chances of saving Odette, Siegfried flees the ball and runs into the forest to find her and beg her forgiveness.

Now comes the best part.

When the curtain rose at the beginning of Act 4, the audience was stunned by the sheer beauty of the formations of swan maidens frozen in a breathtaking tableau that filled the entire stage. Scattered about in random and spontaneous patterns, it took my breath away. The audience burst into spontaneous applause. This glimpse of balletic architecture on the part of Van Dantzig was well worth the wait. I only wish that I had photographs of it to share with the reader. The dancers began to move...Odette and Siegfried wandered into the woods and found one another. She forgave his betrayal, understanding that he had been tricked. Once again, Melnik's mature interpretation of Odette had a distinct impact, causing Odette to appear to suffer less than Siegfried, who is wracked with guilt. Her view of events is philosophical; thus she can comfort Siegfried. As Odette disappears into the woods, carrying on with her life trapped in a spell, Rothbart attempts to chase Siegfried away from the lake. Siegfried charges him and drowns trying to kill him. (If one did not read the synopsis in the program it would have been very difficult to put this together.) A search party arrives, led by Alexander. Siegfried's body is dredged up out of the water. In the final moments of the ballet, Alexander carries Siegfried's dead body up out of the lake and downstage in his arms. This moment of horror lends a Gothic aspect to the ending, terror and loss dominating in the final moment of Swan Lake.

BALANCHINE: THE CITY CENTER YEARS November 4, 2018

Balanchine: The City Center Years

New York City Center Raises Funds For Its Recent Face Lift

Matinee, Sunday, November 4, 2018 

While watching any other ballet company than the New York City Ballet perform works by Balanchine, it's probably not a good idea to get too hung up on detecting the clear imprint of "Balanchine style" nor searching for obvious similarities to the NYCB's version of the same piece, whether or not you're comparing it to a work recently performed by that company or some fossil of theirs preserved on video tape that was digitally remastered decades ago. The temptations of such a preoccupation are obvious in a retrospective such as Balanchine: The City Center Years, but are to be avoided. Nevertheless, when a fine company such as The Joffrey Ballet does an excellent job of capturing the Balanchine style in their execution of The Four Temperaments, as is did today in the final performance of this festival, it's worth mentioning. 

Yoshihisa Arai in The Joffrey Ballet's
production of "The Four Temperaments"

Several ballerinas were not quite secure in their footing during their solo parts, but that didn't detract from the overall affect of the performance, with its use of myriad dancers in a calm flurry of motion in four movements. The type of dance originated in this piece struck the earliest audiences of the NYCB as a form of ballet similar to modern dance. They were wrong, of course. It was simply a further exploration of what ballet dancers could do in space and time by Balanchine. In TJB's performance today, things such as the flick of the wrists in the port de bras, the quizzical tilt of the head, the angular thrust of hips and the precise placement of feet were consistently cast in the Balanchine mold. Although there was less distinction between the personalities of each of the 4 temperaments--Melancholic, Sanguinic, Phlegmatic and Choleric--than many people might have liked to have seen, these references to classical elements of Air, Earth, Fire and Water were intended by Balanchine as a starting point, not an end, in and of themselves. Becoming mired in their meanings can lead an audience down the wrong path. Several of these terms have fallen into disuse in the contemporary lexicon; their meaning has morphed dramatically over time. For example, we now associate the word "melancholic" with a person who is sad, depressed or suicidal when the classical meaning suggests someone who is "analytical, wise and quiet." And sanguine means "optimistic, active and social"; phlegmatic means "relaxed and peaceful"; and choleric means "short-tempered, fast or irritable." Matching each term to the specific interpretation of the personality of each dance by its lead dancers is probably a misuse of our energies. TJB’s attitude was perfectly apropos regarding its presentation; it captured this ballet's unique flavor with a sense of unity and wholeness, as though it had been performing it for many years. Yoshihisa Arai, the male dancer who led the Melancholic Variation, made an outstanding contribution to the piece and indeed the entire afternoon. He is an incredibly expressive, facile young dancer who he has a great future ahead of him. The curators of the festival--whoever they are (the program notes are deliberately vague) were wise to invite TJB all the way from their base in Chicago to participate in the festival.

Hugo Marchand and Sae-Eun Park of the Paris Opera Ballet in
Divertissement Pas de Deux from A Midsummer Night's Dream
Photo Courtesy of Kent G. Becker

Hugo Marchand, of the Paris Opera Ballet, perfectly captured the essence of chivalry buried in the text of Divertissement Pas de Deux from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Sae-Eun Park offered an utterly feminine counterpart to Marchand's brand of partnering, and while the intimacy of their pas de deux sometimes bordered on something precious, their choices were exquisitely executed and had an uncanny sense of relaxation. It gave me pause; I have never seen this pas de deux carried out with the same kind of serene tenderness. It came as a complete surprise. 

Although Balanchine's Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux is meant to be a joyful, athletic romp between two high spirited young lovers, Viktoria Terkshina and Kimin Kim of the Mariinsky Ballet, masterful interpreters of the classics, were cast in this virgorous and physical lost excerpt from Swan Lake that remained unused for years. When Balanchine got word of its rediscovery, he scooped it up and created the ballet at once. When playing teenage Kitri in a story ballet such as Don Quixote, Tereshkina is capable of seeming fifteen years old because she is playing a character. She hurls herself into that youthful part with technical flawlessness and a total lack of inhibition, using a brassy smile and outrageous playfulness that demands Kim, her frequent partner, pull out all the stops to keep up with her energy level through endless pranks and crazy-eyed interactions. Together, they are capable of anything. Yet when challenged to play herself in an abstract work by Balanchine, the prima ballerina assoluta was faced with a horse of a different color. She is quite a few years older than Kim, who just turned 26, and though in the womanly prime of her physical strength, would have looked foolish had she attempted to bound about the stage like a 17 year old colt. She had to play herself in an abstract work, and though it was joyful and boundless, it was essential that she maintain her dignity and stature as a great ballerina and a woman of the world. In order to approach the piece like dancers of the NYCB, Kim would have needed to be matched with a vivacious 17 year old who was willing to inject the vigorous assault of movement on stage into the ballet that it demands. under 5' 5" to go at this with the vigor and freedom it demands. In order to balance the extreme enthusiasm of the piece with the age difference between herself and her partner, Tereshkina wisely approached it as a Romantic interlude between two extremely well-acquainted lovers. As it was a clear choice, it was a different but totally apropos way of flinging herself into a ballet intended for a couple of teenagers in its spirit and athleticism. She headed into their encounter as a playful but sincere flirtation between a warm-hearted, sophisticated, almost aristocratic woman and an eager, passionate young man. Perhaps one should think in terms of the happy part of Colette's great work "Cheri" and not its sequel, "The Last of Cheri." 

Tereshkina's technical acuity enabled her to approach extremely demanding passages with amazing simplification and ease. Sometimes she seemed to "mark" steps (abbreviated dancing sometimes used in rehearsal to spare the energies and physiques of the dancers), for example, carrying the arched passés that are meant to require the foot to go all the way to the top of the knee only to the middle of her calf. At other times she simply truncated whole passages to streamline the piece, underscoring the ease of execution. This currently of intense sexual attraction between a worldly woman at ease with herself and a much younger man was established repeatedly throughout the piece. 

The challenge to the male dancer in Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux is to keep up with the time, which moves along at an ultra-rapid clip. He must execute bravura leaps and challenging lifts without falling behind. Quite often male dancers who attempt this role find themselves fighting a losing battle, but Kim was on top of everything from go--delivering his lofty jetés with ease and simultaneously deferring to his partner. Karinska's classical costume was not flattering to him, underscoring his slender frame and youthfulness. He would have been wise to have worn his own costume, something that would emphasize the breadth of his shoulders and sculpted, muscly back. Mid-way through, he surprised the audience by unleashing a series of a pirouettes done á la seconde, pumping the floor at two turns per beat and creating a literal whirlwind that blew the lid off the house. The piece moves so swiftly that the stunt was over in seconds; as Kim finished up in a series of pirouettes and slipped playfully off stage I wondered whether he might have preferred a more vigorous attack to the entire piece as a whole. By saving up this stunt and slipping it in part-way, however, he made it all that much more exciting. At the very end, the pair abandoned themselves to a courageous execution of the well known fish dives, Tereshkina throwing herself into Kim's arms with great abandon each time and allowing him to raise her up on pointe in arabesque smack on the beat. He carried her aloft into the wings, her abdomen catapulting toward the sky, her legs trailing behind her, holding her fast, as though relishing every long, luxurious inch of her. Their performance was a subtly nuanced and unusual approach to what is usually a straightforward romp carried out with extreme adrenaline, but reminded me once more that this ballerina is all woman and this danseur is all man. With relatively few performances in the west under his belt, Kim already has a legion of female fans. In the course of the evening, it was undeniable that he and his partner received the largest response from the audience, which seemed a just reward for being asked to perform a piece in which they were not suitably cast as a team.

Viktoria Tereshkina and Kimin Kim in Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux
Photo Courtesy of Kent G. Becker

Symphonie Concertante was beautifully performed by American Ballet Theater. It was intimate, vital, elegant, exquisite—and bold. What a treat! In over 5 decades of attending the NYCB, this was the first time that I had ever seen this creation. First created by Balanchine for the School of American Ballet in the 1950’s, possibly for their annual Commencement Exercises or some function that provided an opportunity for students to try their wings. It somehow fell into obscurity, was rediscovered by the Balanchine Trust in the 1980’s and brushed off and put back together by ABT. (No other company performs it today.) On a large scale, it can be perceived as an introduction to the basics of partnering given to a group of fledgling female dancers, offering them a rich and varied taste of the transition from dancing alone as a girl to dancing with a male partner, from maidenhood to womanhood as it were, and expanding the territory from the dance studio to the professional stage. Ormsby Wilkins, my personal favorite among maestros with the ABT, conducted Mozart's score, which calls for two soloists on strings, parts superbly fulfilled by violinist Giora Schmidt and violist Shmuel Katz. Female dancers swathed in creamy pink or pale blue tutus decked the diminutive stage of NYCC in one lovely formation after another. They looked good enough to eat, creating an impression of a confectionery delight that was far more appealing than anything Alexei Ratmansky came up with in his recent revival, Whipped Cream. The costumes by Theoni V. Aldredge were so appealing that afterward I found myself craving vanilla cake with creamy white frosting. We saw strong performances from Christine Shevchenko, Devon Teuscher and Thomas Forster, who worked closely together in perfect harmony. The only man in the entire piece, Forster appears half-way through among so many fillies in lacy tutus. He is a tall, dignified figure and was dressed all in white, looking both powerful and elegant among the huge number of initiates, “student” ballerinas who, prior to his entrance, attempt to partner each other by joining their hands raised in the air. He introduces conventions of partnering between men and women by offering a firm, gentle hand to a few of the acolytes; at times the group surrounds him, ferrying him off stage or on again in circular formations. It is neither here nor there, but when Shevchenko first came on stage, for a second she so resembled Suzanne Farrell that I nearly fell out of my seat. She has large eyes and a similarly heart shaped face but, in reality, her features are more Florentine and distinct than those of Farrell, whose doe eyes and rounded cheeks blurred the overall impression of her visage. Shevchenko has the ideal face for the stage—one that is strikingly beautiful but visible from a mile away. Throughout her performance, her careful placement of her neck, head and shoulders enhanced her beautiful impression of a Balanchine dancer. All of the delicacy and femininity required of the female ABT dancers was so spot on Balanchine, making this a ballet something that every audience member could simply relax and enjoy. 

ABT cast following a performance of Symphonie Concertante

 

There was no rhyme nor reason as to what exactly was on the menu for this celebration of Balanchine and the NYCB’s years at NYCC. Clearly a fund raiser following the recent renovation of the renowned temple of dance and theater, the five performances were meant to be a week of assorted entertainment offering the opportunity for many dancers from major ballet companies from all over the world to unite under one roof in the name of Balanchine. No matter how carefully one reads the program, the curator’s identity remains unclear. His or her intention was not to create a thorough or exhaustive presentation of every work created by Balanchine and/or performed by the NYCB during the NYCC years (1948-1964). One work, Apollo, hearkened back to his tenure as Ballet Master and Choreographer with Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes in the 1920’s. While individual audience members naturally had their favorite programs, there is no value to be created, collectively, in attempting to decide what program was the best or which dancers did the most outstanding job. At this level, in the words of George Gershwin, "Who Cares?" It was a smorgasbord offering undeniable quality, variety, novelty and a chance to see a few rare works by Balanchine revived in an unusual context. The mere logistics of multiple companies in one theater performing multiple works by Balanchine can be an unnerving thing. In comparison to the 50th Anniversary of Jewels at the David H. Koch Theater, this festival was far less of an ordeal. Audiences clearly love this type of venue. To really enjoy it, it's necessary to stay open-minded and avoid the most obvious trap--demanding that highly skilled ballet dancers who were not trained at the School of American Ballet mimic members of the NYCB. Ultimately, avoid becoming fixated on having one particular wish fulfilled with regard to seeing a particular production of a rare piece from Balanchine’s repertory. (For years I've longed to see a revival Bugaku, a Japanese ceremonial dance in which the couple undresses down to their skivvies in preparation for consummation of their marriage vows, but from what I can tell I'm alone in this desire. I simply have to consider the possibility that this ballet may not be as great a ballet as it is in my memory, which dates back as far as 1967. Still, photographs of Allegra Kent in the costumes in various stages of this piece seem evidence enough to me of the ballet's value. But nobody gives a hoot!) Each program had something for everybody and didn’t take itself too seriously. Its only serious intention was to celebrate and promote Balanchine’s work and that’s what came through. Balanchine: The City Center Years packed the house.

KIMIN KIM, PRINCIPAL OF MARIINSKY, EXPLODES ON STAGE OF MET IN LA BAYADERE JUNE 1ST

Kimin Kim as Solor in ABT's La Bayadère 
Ⓒ Kent G. Becker

Kimin Kim, Principal Dancer with the Mariinsky, Returns to The Stage of the Met in ABT's La Bayadère

June 1, 2018

Kimin Kim, a Principal Dancer of the Mariinsky Ballet, returned to the stage of the Metropolitan Opera House this week for the first time in three years, once again performing the role of Solor in American Ballet Theater's production of La Bayadère. Tall and fine boned, with ideally proportioned facial features, Kim emanates a unique brand of magnetism complimented by an impressive command of the stage. Audiences were astounded by the fluidity of his movement, his animal prowess and astounding elevation, which at times defies the limits of human imagination. He is capable of traversing the stage of the Met on the diagonal in only two jetés and thus, can travel further in the air than any other male ballet dancer I have seen since the beginning of my ballet going years in New York in 1968. Throughout the evening, Kim executed one feat after the next with complete equanimity, exhibiting a sense of fearlessness that has the power to ignite the audience before his feet have even left the ground. At 25, he is among the most exciting male ballet dancers to emerge on the world stage.

The diminutive Hee Seo played Solor’s love interest, the beautiful temple dancer, Nikiya. Each a native of South Korea, the pair would seem ideally matched, but Seo is still striving to master this role and her energies were singularly focused. David Hallberg had been scheduled to dance with her, but had been forced to withdraw due to injury at the last minute. Kim was flown into town on short notice; it is impossible to know how much time he and Seo had to rehearse. However, Kim was equally matched by prima ballerina assoluta, Gillian Murphy, who played Nikiya's rival, Gamzatti, the Radjah Dugumanta's headstrong daughter who is also in love with Solor. In ancient India, rulers and warriors were members of the same "Kshatriya" caste, each, in his own way, relied upon to maintain order in society. Nikiya, however, serves the High Brahmin and her temple; she has no power over the affairs in the world. The High Brahmin offers her his love, but she rejects him, and he vows to murder his rival, Solor.

Basically, La Bayadère is a pastiche of 19th century exoticism reflecting colonial stereotypes of Hindu culture conveyed in various forms of Orientalism. Everything is thrown into the production, form aspects of Vedic rites, Bengali Art and the supernature powers of temple sculpture. A melodramatic drama set in Royal India, its characters are dominated by the constraints of a brutal caste system and an unbearably hot climate. Nearly everyone is willing to commit murder just to get room service, which seems the natural order of things in a world in which cause and effect don't mean diddly squat and people are still trying to live without air conditioning. The only cool-headed one among the lot is the dutiful warrior, Solor, a virile young man who sleighs tigers for breakfast but cannot sort out his love life. Torn between his love for Nikiya, the beautiful temple dancer, and his loyalty to Rajah Dugumanta, the ruler he serves, events unfold that reveal his singular flaw: a fickle heart.

Initially, Solor swears his love to Nikiya over the Eternal Flame, which symbolizes purity. The High Brahmin catches them in the act and is infuriated. Meanwhile, the Rajah's daughter has fallen in love with Solor's portrait. When he is summoned by the Rajah and introduced to Gamzatti, he is suddenly smitten by her beauty. As a warrior, he lives in the physical world, not the spiritual world, and is easily distracted by displays of wealthy, power and a good looking woman. The Rajah turns on the screws, requesting that Solor marry Gamzatti, and Solor caves in the face of the Rajah's power and prestige. He and Gamzatti become betrothed. The subject of the ballet is, thus, the evolution of the warrior's soul. Will Solor remain invested in the social hierarchy and continue to lead a life in which he keeps the world at bay, focusing on material gain, or will he mature and become capable of manifesting a victory on the battlefield of love? First he must overcome his indecisive nature. But how? Is it possible for a warrior to make the transition from one identity to the other?

The High Brahmin arrives after Solor leaves the Rajah, informing the latter of Solor's secret pact with Nikiya. He expects the Rajah to call off the marriage and have Solor murdered. Meanwhile, Gamzatti attempts to bribe Nikiya into giving Solor up by offering her jewelry, but Nikiya gets mad and pulls a knife on her. Murphy has grown slightly top heavy of late, and with her newly acquired curves, signature flame red hair and creamy complexion, was the perfect rival for the pale, dark haired, fragile Seo. As Gamzatti, Murphy's dazzling display of Italian fouéttes was as flashy and garish as her attempt to rattle her diamonds in Nikiya's face. But after her life is threatened, Gamzatti flees the scene and goes running straight to Daddy. Father and daughter plot Nikiya's murder together, sealing her fate. These Hindus don't mess around.

Gillian Murphy in ABT's La Bayadère

 

A Gamzatti and Solor's betrothal celebration Nikiya is obligated to perform a dance in honor or the happy couple. Half-way through, she is presented with a floral bouquet containing a poisonous snake. Nikiya suffers a fatal bite and collapses. As she lays, dying, she is offered an antidote to the poison that would reverse its effects. She refuses it, choosing to die rather than go on living in a world that is incapable of accommodating true love. It is obvious that Gamzatti's betrothal to Solor has brought about Nikiya's death. Solor runs to her side then flees the scene, overwhelmed by guilt. He languishes in the quarters of his cavernous tent, smoking opium until he lapses into a drug-induced dream. This is the point at which the ballet really takes off.

What follows is The Kingdom of the Shades, a breathtaking "white" ballet in which the father of classicism, Petipa, appears to have anticipated the abstract domain of plotless dancing pioneered in the 20th century by George Balanchine. La Bayadère was 5 acts long when it premiered in 1877, but by the close of the century this particular excerpt had been frequently extracted and performed for its own sake. Solor finds himself in an enchanted forest in the foothills of a mountain range in the Himilayas. Female spirits called "Shades" descend the slopes, single-file, in a series of arabesques cambés, their procession slowly filling the stage in linear formations that extend upstage as far as the eye can see. When the tableau is complete, the corps de ballet rises on pointe in unison. The floor appears to rise a few inches from the ground. What follows is a virtual ceremony in the air in which Solor communes with the ghost of Nikiya, a glittering vision in white who appears above him in the distance. She glides into his midst on pointe and they dance together. An eerie tension exists between them that suggests that Nikiya has not yet come to terms with Solor's betrayal. This schism complicates what is already an esoteric conversation taking place in a spiritual dimension. Solor, the warrior, must navigate the delicate and complex terrain of a woman's broken heart and somehow win back her trust. But how? In awe of her beauty, purity and silence, he explores Nikiya's shattered soul, continually reaching for her in spite of the guard she puts up. Raising her up repeatedly, literally and figuratively, he elevates her above all women. By the end of this first pas de deux, Solor has finally given it up to love, committing himself to the prospect of an eternal life with Nikiya in this strange, new dimension. When she floats upstage and disappears, he follows in her wake, executing a series of luxurious, elongated strides, his eyes raised directly to the sky. It takes up to 8 full measures to complete; many male dancers performing this passage in a hurry and rush off without completing each stride. But Kim performed each step slowly and luxuriantly, savoring every inch of it. The hypnotic pace of his feet reflected the slow pace of an opium-induced dream, so cleverly characterized by the glacial tempo of the score by Minkus. Solor's eyes are raised to convey the spiritual bond that he has established between himself and Nikiya. He no longer needs eyes to see her or follow her. The two are forever now forever linked. Solor has completed the first step in the challenge of love: surrender.

Breathtaking choral dancing follows, along with multiple pas de deux between Nikiya and Solor, variations by several of the Shades and virtuoso solos for Solor that rank among the most technically challenging variations ever created for a male dancer. One in particular is attributed to Chabukiani in a version of the ballet that was restaged for the Kirov in 1941. The present version was restaged for ABT by Natalia Makarova in 1980, but however many different parts comprise The Kingdom of the Shades, the concept of the ballet and its choreography belong to Petipa. Using a story with a theme similar to the libretto of Aida, he created a vehicle in which the conflict between duty and love is beautifully delineated.The Kingdom of the Shades is a map of the warrior's evolution as a lover. In each variation, Solor soars higher and higher, completing multiple tours in the air as he plumbs the depth of his love for Nikiya. As he dances, he grows increasingly exhilarated and elated. This is a manifestation of the growth of his soul in response to his surrender to the glory of love--the proof Solor has needed all along in order to overcome his indecisiveness. His display of virtuosity is not a mere physical exercise, but an expression of the endless potential ignited in an individual when he is seized by the profound human emotion of love. Original sketches for this Act were done from illustrations by Gustave Dore Angel's vision of Dante's Paradiso.

In a passage in one of Solor's variations, Kim circled the stage counter-clockwise in a series of breath-taking double assemblés en tournant, landing each time in a generous but precise plié in second position. During his masterful execution of this feat, I could hear members of the audience gasp. Rudolf Nureyev first performed this series of steps in the west while on tour in Paris in 1961. Kim's approach to it transformed a variation that can easily be perceived as a display of masculine bravura into artistry of the first order. Like Nureyev, he puts as much into the steps on the ground that link the leaps and tours that comprise his exploration of the air, giving a fluidity that connects everything he does. This joining of heaven and earth was Nureyev's legacy, a seamless thruline of poetic beauty that was even evident during passages of his most testosterone-driven dancing. Kim has a similar poetry about him, approaching this series of tours en l'air from a place of pure concentration that makes no attempt to hide the size of the challenge before him but faces the task with equanimity. In the calm, open expression of in his eyes heading into it, what emerges is courage as tangible as the steps he executes, uplifting the viewer through the individual restoration of human dignity before Kim, as a dancer, has even left the ground. This man is fearless. Sailing back down to the earth each time in a lush, deep plié, there was a glow on his face that reflected the joy of the process for him as a technician. Bringing both clarity and passion to his role as Solor, the overall result was an intricate mosaic of glorious dance, heartfelt drama and the overarching stamp of personal integrity.


In Act II Kim partnered the lovely Seo with skill and confidence. Although there were no bumps in the road for her along the way, she navigated the challenges of the terrain with such caution that ultimately, she forced the audience to remain on the outside of her performance. Nevertheless, her pristine appearance was dazzling. In a shimmering white tutu, rhinestones lighting up the center part of her jet black hair, she extended her leg in a developé á la seconde that pointed straight to the ceiling, underscoring the supernatural nature of Nikiya's reunion with Solor. Certainly, Seo is well cast as the long suffering Nikiya, but she simply has a way to go before making this role her own.

Hee Seo and Kimin Kim in ABT's La Bayadère

In spite of the fact that Kim saved the day by flying into New York to fill in for David Hallberg, each of his performances at ABT on May 29th and June 1st was ignored by every major dance critic in the United States. Three years ago, in 2015, Kim previously did the role of Solor in La Bayadère with ABT. Alastair Macaulay praised his performance in the context of a larger article about the genesis of Bayadère. ABT's current production is not one of his personal favorites, nor is the ballet. He considers its choreographic limitations to be egregious. In adding to his brief praise of Kim, he suggested flatly that ABT should avoid inviting him back in future if it were only going to dance the role of Solor. This strangely dismissive form of praise ignores the magnitude of Kim's talent. He is such a great dancer that he is capable of improving any vehicle he appears in. Macaulay may dislike Natalia Makarova' production of La Bayadère, but in any production Acts I and III are but bookends of Act II, The Kingdom of the Shades. They are meant to be melodramatic but also offer many dancers the chance to show off their acting chops and explore the extreme highs and lows the tory travels over, a rocky road filled with irony and pathos. Until I saw Kimin Kim's performance as Solor, I did not understand the theme of the ballet nor perceive how the warrior's personal journey unfolds in the context of the narrative. He is that good. At the end of the evening, he received a standing ovation. I hate to ask the question, but is it possible that western critics do not take Kim as seriously as they should? Kim says he feels there are no barriers for Asian ballet dancers in the West. But he is unusually attractive, technically impeccable and one gets the impression that he is well liked wherever he goes. At the same time, he appears younger on stage than his years, which may appear to deprive his persona of certain gravitas that, at this stage of his career, he may very much need. Cultural exchange is the life blood of ballet and, in spite of ABT’s new policy of importing fewer celebrity dancers on a regular basis, dancers such as Kimin Kim are of such a high caliber that they should be invited to dance by ABT—or any American company—as often as possible. When he flies into the Big Apple to dance, let major New York critics and Indie critics alike do him the honor of attending his performances and leaving the politics of the ballet world out of their reviews. Kim has earned our astonishment and our praise. He should not have to earn our acceptance.

NATALIA OSIPOVA REUNITES WITH DAVID HALLB ERG IN ABT'S "GISELLE" MAY 18, 2018

Natalia Osipova in ABT's "Giselle"

TWO VERY DIFFERENT VICTORIES

Natalia Osipova and David Hallberg Reunite in American Ballet Theater's "Giselle" at the Met

May 18, 2018

Tonight Natalia Osipova and David Hallberg were reunited on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera House in a single performance of American Ballet Theater's "Giselle." Numerous luminaries of ballet could be spotted in the audience, among them Diana Vishneva, who had just given birth to a baby boy five days earlier. Osipova and Hallberg share the same birthday, May 18th, and the audience couldn't resist singing them "Happy Birthday." For Hallberg, it was a victory to dance the role of Albrecht again after a 2 1/2 year convalescence following foot surgery with complications. He is back in good form, though not yet in full force, and thankfully took care to guard his instrument by relying on showmanship rather than straining himself unnecessarily. Osipova's victory was in the response she received from the audience after her three year absence from ABT. People were ecstatic from the moment she stepped on stage. She has arrived at that golden phase in her career in which she can do no wrong. And they let her know it. She could have stood there and scratched her nose and the next day the papers would have read, "Natalia Osipova work a nostril." The elation of the crowd was so endearing it reminded me of the heady days of the ballet boom of the 1960's and early 70's.

Osipova and Hallberg in ABT's "Giselle" Act I

This feisty prima ballerina assoluta has refined her approach to the role of Giselle in previous years, now introducing a naturalism that borders on something straight out of the Actors Studio. Her innkeeper's daughter is a young woman with real hopes and dreams and a heart condition--something she introduces earlier in Act I than any other ballerina I have ever seen. Although her eyes lock dramatically with Count Albrecht's when the two first meet, he is obligated to pursue her with empathy rather than ardor--or risk coming across like a total rake. When he does make advances, Giselle runs from his side like a girl who is hoping to catch the next coach to the nunnery. David Hallberg had his work cut out for him as a result of all of Osipova's unconventional approach to her character. How is he supposed to seduce the inn keeper's daughter if she won't let him touch her? Always a good sport, he keeps smiling and enjoys whatever crumbs she throws his way. The romance that transpires between them appears to take place in her mind; she is often caught gazing vaguely in front of her or ducking out of the way. Needless to say, no sparks fly in Act I but suddenly Osipova reels off a round of piqué turns upstage following the hops on pointe done diagonally downstage. Starting right on the beat, she swiftly circles the top arc alone, her feet flying and her pointe work as smooth as butter, finishing up the sequence in a matter of seconds--the audience goes wild! Deliberately building suspense, Osipova has just given us a little taste of what is to come in Act II. She seems to say, "Hang in there. Act I can't last forever." This is a very unusual strategy to employ in a ballet that provides endless opportunities to create heightened realities, run the emotional gamut from A to Z, explore sex and love amid the rigid class disparity of medieval Europe...and delivers us into a supernatural world where deceased girls who have become Wilis wait at night in the woods and stalk the lovelorn cads who put them in their graves. 

Hallberg and Osipova in Act II of ABT's "Giselle"

To start, traditionally, Giselle is a raving beauty whose warmth draws others to her, continually making her the center of attention. This is why the ballet opens with two men beating down her door first thing in the morning. Her infectious love of life (and dancing) reflects her intensely joyful response to being human and foreshadows her early death. When these aspects of Giselle's nature are ignored on purpose by Osipova, moments in the libretto that call for a heightened reality go unfulfilled. Giselle's charms are meant to arouse strong feelings in others--love, jealousy, generosity, deceit. Such a magical creature creates material for a drama that thrives on conflict. Giselle's beauty, sex appeal and trusting heart inspire Count Albrecht to take on an alias and dress like one of the locals; he pursues her with hopes of being undetected, thinking it will be harmless fun. Theophile Gautier, the librettist, suggests that beauty and innocence are far more powerful personality traits than men realize. Those we often think we can easily dismiss end up becoming people who profoundly change our lives. The fact is that Giselle may be an illiterate peasant, but she is not meant to be confused with the wayward, pink-cheeked girls who labor in the fields. As the daughter of an innkeeper, Giselle has frequent exposure to travelers passing through the village. This gives her a social fluency and a polish that sets her apart--this is why Albrecht notices her in the first place. He wants both the pretty girl and the girl with social fluency. In spite of her singularity as a character, Osipova chooses to make Giselle a plain Jane, a quiet, cautious girl who is uncomfortable with big displays of affection. Her complexion is gray; her demeanor is muted. When she is crowned Queen of the Harvest a wreath is placed upon her head. She shifts it about insecurely, looking embarrassed, as though she would like to climb down from the cart and dispense with the frivolity. Normally, Giselle's mother is on her case about the danger to her heart that all of these celebrations and invitations to dance pose to her health. But in this production, Giselle is equally worried about her heart condition and not interested in tempting fate. When it comes time for fireworks (the mad scene) in Act I, Osipova's naturalism has backed her into a corner as an actress. When Albrecht's fiancee, Bathilde, returns to the village with the hunting party she stands in close proximity to Albrecht. Giselle wakes up and charges between them, gesturing boldly in pantomime, "Back off, Bathilde--he's mine!" The quiet, cautious girl is singing a different tune. Osipova's actions appear to spring from some imagined idea that Albrecht has formally proposed to her. But when, during Act I, did we get to see him do anything but try to get near her--and encounter a lot of resistance? When did we see them flirting and falling in love? We didn't. So when Albrecht fails to back up Giselle's claim that they are engaged, not only do we lack empathy for Giselle, it makes for a very sticky situation. This is not the stuff that comprises a sound set up for Giselle's first and only nervous breakdown. Osipova crumples over, holding her head in her hands as though it aches, then wanders about the stage, trying to regain her equilibrium. As she attempts to piece together the events of that morning, she rubs the back of her neck and shakes her head repeatedly. These gestures genuinely convey mental confusion but they have a clinical feel, as though they are things gleaned from an observation in a mental ward Osipova might have done in preparation for the role. However genuinely Osipova executes them, they lack the anguish of a woman whose perception of reality has just been totally shaken to the core. Altogether, Osipova's mad scene is a rather sedate affair.

Only a girl with a pure heart is capable of experiencing the extreme devastation that Giselle undergoes in the face of Albrecht's duplicity, deceit and unwillingness to help her save face when the true nature of his flirtation with her is exposed. In order to lose trust, you have to invest trust in something in the first place. Having played ill, hard to get and filled with doubts throughout Act I, Osipova, as Giselle, fails to connect intensely with Albrecht. But in order for the mad scene to be convincing, Giselle has to believe that she has connected deeply to Albrecht. In order to lose her innocence she must believe she has promised him her heart and invested in their future together. She needs to be as pure and trusting as the hero of Herman Melville's novella, "Billy Budd." Accused of a crime that he did not commit, Billy suddenly strikes his accuser dead. He did not mean to hurt the man, but could not bear the injustice of a false accusation. The uncanny power of Billy Budd's strength is proof of Billy's innate innocence. Giselle needs to possess a heart that has the same mythical proportions as Billy Budd's. Otherwise her break down in the face of duplicity falls flat. Only when she has a pristine heart and is brimming over with trust and love can a glimpse of corruption destroy her. With all these ducks lined up right in a row, Giselle has a chance of convincing the audience that she has been felled like a tree--and is unraveling right before their eyes. Characters such as Giselle and Billy Budd are rare in life and in art. That is why we love them. Playing a magical person is a huge challenge for any performer. Ultimately, in this production, in the name of realism, Osipova sacrifices drama for authenticity. She chooses not to be magical, not to glow, not to brimming over with joy and not to be the victim of her own infectious love of dancing...but plot and character are synonymous in "Giselle." A shy, cautious girl who doesn't like to be touched by men doesn't go to pieces when a man she somehow got the idea was her fiancé turns out to be engaged to another woman. She disappears and crawls under a rock. According to Osipova's interpretation, the removal of Albrecht's mask would only confirm the many fears and doubts that Giselle has projected throughout Act I.

In previous years, Osipova danced Act II of "Giselle" as though she were doing an Olympic marathon, soaring to greater and greater heights, literally, displaying her enormous elevation, her arms outstretched, holding nothing back. She was strident, emotional and sensual and people lapped it up. Few noticed or cared that she made no effort whatsoever to evoke the supernatural aspect of deceased Giselle's character. Now a member of a spirit cult called the Wilis, girls who stalk the woods at night and capture any man who wanders through, forcing him to dance himself to death, revenge is supposed to be her adopted credo. All of the Wilis were gilted on their wedding day, traditionally, and while Giselle's story is slightly different they welcome her into the fold. Helpless in life, they are now empowered by death, and their demeanor reflects this. Giselle's hair is now pulled down severely over her ears; she no longer hears through these orifices but through some other, supernatural means. (One can assume that all of her senses have undergone a similar, if less obvious, overhaul.) She is weightless and capable of supernatural elevation; she performs unnatural back bends, sculpted epaulement and a strict type of port de bras that results in unbelievably long, rounded arms. This is the idealized vision of "woman" in Romantic ballet, a trend in 19th century dance in which women are wrapped in layers of white tulle and net. Sometimes they used to float into the air with the help of a wire. The development of the pointe slipper came about with this trend, enabling ballerinas to appear as though they were rising off of the ground from the tips of their toes. In most Romantic ballets these gossamer girls are not malevolent spirits, as they are in Giselle, but they are always transcendent and uniquely empowered. Their beauty represents a vision of perfection that is unattainable by mortals. It also symbolizes the fleeting nature of love. Perhaps perceiving women as mysterious creatures whose humanity brings them closer to God, male choreographers created a type of heavenly being trapped somewhere between the sky and the earth. Inspiring but unobtainable, these creatures embody the ultimate tease.

Never one to conform to convention, Osipova now performs a highly stylized version of the original choreography by Jean Coralli and Jules Perot, finessing everything she does by reigning in her arms and creating the illusion of the genuine impulse of flight rather than leaps that can be measured in inches. Rather than performing a marathon dedicated to athletic prowess, she now favors a naturalism that allows her to connect with her feelings. Everything she does overflows with tender emotions. Nevertheless, she continues to depart vastly from the traditional interpretation of the role. Osipova's deceased Giselle is not a supernatural character but a mortal woman who happens to be dead. When she first reports to Myrta, the Queen of the Wilis, she takes her place up stage in fourth position demi plié, her head held down in a show of obedience. This is the preparation for a series of turns done in reverse. The "whirling dervish" is executed with the leg held in arabesque and marks Giselle's entry into a fourth dimension. It symbolizes the unlocking of the portal between life and death through which Giselle must pass in order to enter the spirit world. In recent decades ballerinas have begun performing this feat with the leg raised in attitude. This takes the strain off the back and makes balance less of an issue. Carla Fracci, considered one of the great Giselles of all time, was particularly facile at these turns and always did them in arabesque on demi-pointe, completing all 24. During her early years in the west, Osipova did the whirling dervish in arabesque, but she now performs it in attitude and finishes early, spinning out of control and regaining her equilibrium in a series of chainé turns downstage.

Hallberg and Osipova in Act II of ABT's "Giselle"

Traditionally, Giselle's superficial beauty in Act I is illuminated by the spiritual beauty she demonstrates in Act II through her forgiveness of Albrecht's betrayal. In Osipova's interpretation, she is the same Giselle in Act II as she is in Act I--but now she now has no heart condition. When Albrecht arrives in the woods to place lilies on her grave, he is taken prisoner by Myrta and falls under her spell. He begins the grueling dance of death and Giselle intervenes, distinguishing herself from the herd of iron maidens by choosing to forgive the man who broke her heart less than 24 hours ago. She attempts to save his life by ignoring Myrta's command, and dances alongside Albrecht throughout the wee hours of the morning, jolting him awake repeatedly, appearing and disappearing and continually engaging him in a variety of ways. She reminds him that he'll be safe if he just plants himself on her grave site. Why he doesn't just park himself there all night is a question mark, but the power of Myrta's spell continually calls him to his feet to kick up his heels or perform death defying entrechats.

Traditionally, partway through Act II, Albrecht stoops on one knee and Giselle takes her place just behind him. Her hand remains on his shoulder as she raises her leg behind her. She achieves an uncanny, other worldly sense of balance on pointe in arabesque as they each raise an arm in the air. In tonight's performance, a simplification of this choreography provided a moment of perfect unity. Osipova simply stood at Hallberg's side as they each raised their individual arms in perfect alignment. The affect was profoundly moving.

For some time David Hallberg's many struggles with physical challenges have been covered in the press. For this reason, challenging himself to attempt the tour de force required of Albrecht in Act II of "Giselle" demanded tremendous courage. He was able to complete 23 of the requisite 34 entrechats Myrta commanded. The audience cheered him on, applauding wildly after he did only a 3 or 4. When he dropped to the floor in exhaustion, stretching out on his side, he surprised everyone by rising back up in a split second and reaching out imploringly to Myrta. It was a contrived move, but totally justified as Hallberg has not yet regained full strength and must rely on his sense of showmanship to keep the audience involved. Osipova was the victor in terms of popularity, mesmerizing the audience, wave after wave of adulation crashing upon the stage. (Throughout the curtain calls she received so much more applause than Hallberg that it was embarrassing.)




Dawn breaks, bells toll and we realize that Albrecht has made it through the night. Giselle's parting was beautifully handled. The two held hands as Osipova stood on Giselle's grave, gazing down at Albrecht, their fingertips barely touching. Floating into the earth in a cloud of mist, she was gone. At this juncture, Hallberg did something I have never seen another male dancer do. Raising up, he grasped an arm of the cross planted on Giselle's grave. Suddenly realizing that his life had been touched by Christ through Giselle's forgiveness, he has had a genuine spiritual experience. All of the tedious years of religious instruction a young Count has been schooled in suddenly resonate with meaning for the first time. It was a bold, brilliant choice on Hallberg's part.

Osipova and Hallberg take a bow following ABT's "Giselle"

Rising to turn and walk away, he discovered the petal of a flower Giselle has left in her wake. Stooping to pick it up, his discovery of it was fresh, real, alive. Strolling downstage, gazing at it as the curtain came down, Hallberg seemed to hold the entire night in the palm of his hand. In many ways the much anticipated reunion of this beloved pair belonged to Osipova, but the final moment was so extraordinary it restored my faith in Hallberg's future. And in the future of "Giselle."