Royal Variations

After a five-year absence, the Royal Ballet is in town again, in time for its 75th anniversary. On Tuesday night, the Royals presented a program of four ballets created in various times by the company’s own choreographers: La Valse and Enigma Variations by Frederick Ashton (The Royal Ballet’s founding choreographer), Gloria by Kenneth MacMillan (Ashton’s successor as the company’s Artistic Director), and Tanglewood by Alastair Marriott (the company’s dancer and aspiring choreographer).


The name of Frederick Ashton is integral to the history of the Royal Ballet. He sculpted British classical dance and created some of the most popular ballets that built the company’s name, so it wasn’t surprising to see two of his works on the program’s menu.



Created in 1958 for the La Scala Ballet, Ashton’s La Valse is a glamorous dance and perfect curtain-opener. “Through whirling clouds, waltzing couples may be faintly distinguished. The clouds slowly scatter: one sees... an immense ball room filled with a whirling crowd. The scene is gradually illuminated,” wrote Maurice Ravel about La Valse. And this is how Ashton’s ballet begins in a ball room, decorated with gorgeous blue multiple-layered drapes and crystal chandeliers. Men in black tail coats, women in dazzling evening gowns and white gloves are indulging in a waltz. Ravel’s music sets an exuberant and at the same time ominous mood for the dance. The Royal Ballet had it all: stunning decorations, beautiful costumes, and a great band (the Washington National Opera Orchestra). Unfortunately, a lack of unison movements of the corps de ballet made the dance less effective and visually appealing. It was quite disappointing to see dancers not being able to demonstrate synchronized arm- and footwork when the music itself serves as a perfect metronome. The male corps looked stronger, while ballerinas reminded of debutantes on their first ball. As a result, the thrill and excitement of the dance were conveyed mainly by the orchestra.



The urgent and somber sounds of a solo violin opened the second ballet of the program, Tanglewood. Choreographed to the violin concerto of the American composer Ned Rorem (six movements conceived as songs without words) it’s dance driven by music, not plot. Slick gray and white costumes, striking abstract backdrops, and thoughtfully designed lighting created a romantic and dreamy atmosphere. Amid a sense of purposelessness, it was enjoyable to watch mainly because of a superb performance given by soloists: Martin Harvey, Leanne Benjamin, and Marianela Nunez.

Edward Elgar’s Enigma Variations, subtitled My Friends Pictured Within, gave inspiration and title to the second Ashton work of the evening. Fourteen variations created by the composer in 1899 represent a collection of affectionate musical portraits of his family, friends, and acquaintances. This ballet could be perceived as a photo album of them, with pictures becoming ‘alive’ during each variation. There are monologues, dialogues, and conversations all in the form of dance. It’s a beautifully choreographed and staged work. Christopher Saunders gave a solid performance of Edward Elgar while Zenaida Yanowsky impressed as his faithful wife. Roberta Marquez sparkled as little Dorabella dancing gracefully and joyfully. Sarah Lamb was perfect as Lady Mary Lygon – a mysterious, fairy-like character. Her spectacular love duet with Elgar was full of passion and tenderness. Elegant, nostalgic, humorous, and idyllic, “Enigma” was truly enjoyed and appreciated by the audience.



The 1980 MacMillan Gloria was inspired by Vera Brittain’s autobiography Testament of Youth and commemorates and laments the victims of World War I. The ballet is set to Francis Poulenc’s Gloria from his Latin Mass, which was masterfully performed that evening by the WNO orchestra and the Washington Chorus. Alas, the choreography was less profoundly moving. The powerful emotional effect one would expect from such a work was absent. Perhaps, it was too much of a task to relay human pain and suffering caused by a war in a short dance… What made this dance stand out from the entire program was the quality of its cast, especially soloists Alina Cojocaru and Thiago Soares.

Starting June 22nd, the Royal Ballet is presenting their classic revival of Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty, which I have previously written on here.

The Washington Ballet: "7x7: Women"

For its final performances of the season this month, the Washington Ballet opened its company headquarters' doors, located on Wisconsin Avenue. The title of their last program, 7x7: Women, may suggest that it is a square dance performed by the female corps de ballet. Not exactly. It’s a showcase of seven miniature dances (each lasting approximately seven minutes) created by women choreographers. While women have always dominated ballet as dancers, it has usually been a man’s world when it came to the choreography. 7x7 presents women in dance not only as a performers but also as creators.

As I experienced last Thursday, the atmosphere in the Washington Ballet’s England Studio - transformed into a theater - is very intimate, with just a few feet of space separating dancers and audience. You can hear every breath (and there was a lot of heavy breathing during the evening), see every movement, notice every change in facial expressions on the performers. This is an evening with the Washington Ballet up close and personal.

Don’t expect to see the old stereotypes of ballerinas in white tutus and tiaras dancing on their toes as love-stricken heroines, either. The 7x7 dances are modern and stylish, variously charged with energy, sensuality, and humor. It’s a dynamic variety show with a woman’s touch, offering imaginative, appealing, and entertaining choreography. And because of the short duration of the works it’s all very digestible even to ballet newcomers. The costumes are simple (little shirts, shorts, and plain dresses) and sometimes unusual (white nightgowns), decorations are minimal, and the soundtrack is a definite winner with music by Haydn, Beethoven, Bartók, Joseph Canteloube, and Mikis Theodorakis.

Helen Pickett’s Trio in White opened the program. It is a pas de trois (more precisely, a ménage à trois) - a complicated love triangle: two guys and a girl share their passion for each other with the "Moonlight" Sonata’s “Presto Agitato” as accompaniment. Michelle Jimenez was flirtatious, sensual; showing affection for both of her suitors (compellingly danced by Jonathan Jordan and Jared Nelson), who in turn shared a few moments of intimacy with each other. Choreographed by Jessica Lang to a Bartók melody, Stearc is a stranger piece, featuring a trio of dancers and a trio of chairs. Giselle Alvarez, Corey Landolt, and Jade Payette performed this less immediately appealing work masterfully.

Beautifully choreographed and my favorite, Uncertain Song (created by Susan Shields) is a romantic dance of two couples: an amalgam of classical ballet and modern dance movements. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Jared Nelson and Morgann Rose whose love duet was breathtaking. They danced with passion and sparkle. Their pairing was impeccable, as if the dancers were singing that Uncertain Song in perfect unison. An ensemble of nine performed Shifting to Here(by Tania Isaac), an exhilarating tribal dance with plenty of power and energy - their combined body heat raised the temperature in the studio... given the close quarters probably not just metaphorically.

One could imagine that Alarm Will Sound, choreographed by Sarah Slipper, was inspired by either Mission Impossible or The Thomas Crown Affair. Two dancing couples skillfully navigated through the maze of the “laser beams” as if breaking in or getting out of a secure vault and making sure that alarm will Not sound. Minor Loop (a pas des deux created by Marsha Groethe) looked more like The Taming of the Shrew, with the company’s principal dancer Jason Hartley as the hero trying to deal with a bad-tempered heroine (Brianne Bland). The program’s closing number was the comic Pillow Talk (a pajama party of four that ended in a pillow fight), an appealing work and sure audience pleaser.

With such a variety ideas, approaches, and visions to a dance-making, this program will satisfy every taste somewhere while the brevity of the works ensures that the lesser liked pieces go by too fast to displease. And the performance of the Washington Ballet’s young, beautiful, and talented troupe will make you want to come again. For the program schedule, see the Washington Ballet's Web site.

The Royal Ballet: Sleeping Beauty

Other Reviews: Sarah Kaufman, Royal Ballet Weaves Its Meticulous Spell (Washington Post, June 24) John Rockwell, Reviving 'Beauty' With Old-School Poise and Reserve (New York Times, June 24) Jean Battey-Lewis, Dusty Royal gems polished (Washington Times, June 24) Philip Kennicott, 'Beauty' Reawakened (Washington Post, June 21)

During his 60-year career Marius Petipá choreographed more than 100 ballets. Only a few of them (La Bayadère, Don Quixote, Raymonda, Giselle, Sleeping Beauty, and Swan Lake) survived the test of time and formed a core of the current classical ballet repertoire. Created in 1890, Sleeping Beauty is Petipá’s crowning achievement and one of the greatest ballets of all times. Set to Tchaikovsky’s music, it is based on Charles Perrault’s fairytale La Belle au Bois Dormant, a story of a cursed princess who falls asleep after pricking her finger on a spindle and is kissed and awakened by a prince one hundred years later.

Sleeping Beauty is a showcase and an ultimate test for a ballet company. Beauty is not easily achieved: its grand staging comes with a big price tag; and its extremely challenging choreography requires the finest dancers. It’s an unattainable dream for many dance troupes and each (successful) new production is a cultural event in the ballet world.

The Royal Ballet has been on a quest for its own Beauty since 1939. The most recent attempts to resurrect the famous ballet ended unhappily, a 2003 production of Natalia Makarova was doomed as “too Kirov” and Anthony Dowell’s 1996 modern staging as plain “ugly.” Nevertheless, the company was determined to bring the magic back. This time the management decided to play it safe, choosing to revisit the popular 1946 version based on Oliver Messel’s stage decorations and Frederick Ashton’s additional choreography. Last week the Royal Ballet unveiled this new-old Beauty at the Kennedy Center Opera House.


After the roaring chords of the short overture subsided, the curtain rose on the Prologue, revealing the King Florestan’s Palace and members of the Royal Court preparing for the christening of newborn Princess Aurora. The stage decorations (arches, colonnades, staircases, and a mountain view painted on a blue backdrop) didn’t quite convey the regal splendor of a Royal Palace… more the two-dimensionality of a Windows Screen Saver. Ladies of the Court dressed in huge and elaborate dresses and topped with oversized wigs looked extravagant, not elegant. What surprised the most was the lack of vibrant colors in Peter Farmer’s newly created costumes. Pale blue and beige hues dominated the set. An excessive use of pastel colors gave the new staging a faded appearance. Cattalabute, the King’s master of ceremonies, clad in a dark green velvet suit with a hat reminding me of a nest with a white bird in it, looked like a character from another story altogether.

It is the curse of a second night’s performance that it is traditionally handed to a second-string cast. The Royal corps’s maidens in the beginning of the Prologue weren’t quite together, not an uncommon sight that night. Ballerinas’ heads and feet moving in different directions coupled with muddled sounds coming from the orchestra pit set a mood matching the gloomy sets right from the start. The cavalcade of good fairies with their cavaliers following brought a welcome change in the color scheme. Isabel McMeekan as the Lilac Fairy rescued the dancing part. She was a centerpiece of the party, dancing with grace, eloquence, and vigor. The arrival of the Wicked Fairy Carabosse in a dead-crow cart powered by six giant rats was rather more grotesque than ominous. Dressed in a long black sparkling dress, Genesia Rosato as Carabosse (the character role often performed by a male) was eccentric and bizarre.



In the first act the audience finally got to meet the Princess. With a beaming smile, Roberta Marquez was the happiest Aurora I have ever seen. She was all charm and joy. Her performance was technically assured, but she danced in a way that was notably careful and self-conscious, as if her main goal was to execute each element by the book. Her balances in the famous Rose Adagio were steady-state. She gracefully moved from one suitor to another without a glimpse of hesitation, keeping a statuesque posture in each arabesque. (I only wished she paid more attention to her maybe-husbands.)

After the first act the performance finally took off. Imaginative designs and beautiful dancing in the Vision Scene of the second act brought some magic to the production. A charismatic dancer with an impressive virtuoso technique, Federico Bonelli gave a solid portrayal of Prince Florimund. He partnered Aurora with assurance and elegance. Young and exuberant, Marquez and Bonelli made a beautiful couple; their passionate duet in the enchanted forest was not only danced agreeably but acted very well, too.


The ballet culminates in the wedding of Princess Aurora and Prince Florimund. The festivities begin with a parade and divertissements of well-known fairytale characters. Little Red Riding Hood (Caroline Duprot) was particularly memorable not only for her enticing performance but also for the bright red cloak. Brian Maloney as the Blue Bird spent most of his solo in the air, demonstrating his ability to fly; Bethany Keating was a charming White Cat, flanked by Jonathan Howells as Puss-in-Boots. The glorious grand pas de deux of the lead dancers followed by the nuptial ceremony concluded the evening satisfyingly.

Whether this sort of Beauty appeals to you will depend on your expectations from the genre. The glory of the past can’t quite be recaptured – but good dancing will assuage those who expect classical ‘classical ballet’.

The Kirov Ballet: From Russia With Forsythe

For more than a decade the Kirov (Mariinsky) Ballet -- a company famous for its 19th-century repertoire -- has been going through a series of transformations. The reign of Marius Petipa and Michel Fokine was ended in 1989 with the premiere of the ballet Theme and Variations choreographed by George Balanchine. Balanchine’s unique style and modern choreography were gladly adopted and embraced by the Kirov’s dancers. After dancing for more than a century in Romantic and Classical styles, the company was eager for a change. With ten of Balanchine’s works “under its pointes” the Kirov Ballet danced into the 20th century.

In 2004, the 57-year-old American avant-garde choreographer William Forsythe undertook the further transformation (or deconstruction) of the St. Petersburg’s renowned ballet troupe. His modern approach to dance making was a new territory for traditional, classically trained dancers of the Kirov. Once called “Antichrist of ballet,” Forsythe is known for ultramodern and extremely difficult choreography. His ballets are not for the squeamish.

For two months the Kirov’s Odiles, Nikias, Auroras, Giselles, Cinerellas, and assorted princes underwent a strenuous, around-the-clock rehearsal schedule (sort of a dance boot camp) to become ‘Universal’ or Forsythean dancers, intrepid risk takers. Their hard work has paid off. Four one-act ballets -- Steptext, The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude, In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated, and Approximate Sonata -- create an evening-long all-Forsythe program, now a prominent feature of the company’s repertoire. Titled “William Forsythe Masterworks,” this program is currently being presented by the Kirov Ballet at the Opera House of the Kennedy Center.

Choreographed in 1985 to Bach’s Chaconne from a partita for solo violin, Steptext is an abstract dance performed by three men and a woman. Starting suddenly, unexpectedly, viewers at first didn’t realize that the performance was actually under way. In complete silence, with house lights still on, soloist Igor Kolb was performing unimaginable body and arm routine. His solo had elements of an aerobic exercise, martial arts, and yoga. He moved so rapidly – it seemed like he tried to exhaust all his energy. Suddenly a sound of violin pierced the air like a cry – just two bars of music – surrendering to complete silence again. Then from the darkness a woman – Daria Pavlenko – in a red body suit appeared on stage exhibiting robot-like intricate forearm movements. Along with unusual dance vocabulary, bright lights switched on and off, nerve-pinching music played “stop and go,” and the off-centered and multifocus perspective (sometimes with three independent solos performed on different parts of the stage), this work challenged not only the dancers but also the audience. After this 20-minute piece the intermission was welcome, perhaps necessary, to allow spectators to fully absorb the work.

Other Reviews: Sarah Kaufman, One Step Forsythe, Two Steps Back for The Kirov (Washington Post, June 15) John Rockwell, The Kirov Ballet Performs Works by William Forsythe at the Kennedy Center (New York Times, June 15)

Approximate Sonata is set to music by Dutch composer Thom Willems who has collaborated with Forsythe since 1984. The ballet is a collection of five pas de deux performed by four couples (the first couple returns for a final dance.) It may have been the least compelling and visually interesting work of the evening. It began with growling lion sounds and a question “Am I in the right place?” I wondered how many people in the audience asked themselves the same question... What spectators had seen so far looked nothing like “Russian ballet” in any common understanding. If the ballet itself did not leave a particular impression, one could hardly forget the fluorescent green tights of Elena Vostronina. At 5’8’’ she is probably the tallest ballerina in the company. Her leg extensions and swings (up to 210 degrees) were spellbinding. And the performance of Ekaterina Petina will be remembered. She effortlessly navigated through Forsythe’s choreographic geometry, creating exquisite lines and shapes.



A badly amplified recording of Franz Schubert’s Symphony No. 9 in C major provided a soundtrack for The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude. Danced by a quintet of soloists - three women in bright yellow tutus and two men in red weightlifter-like costumes – this ballet is an homage to the choreographic heritage of George Balanchine and one of the most frequently performed Forsythe works. Tatiana Tkachenko was especially good in this performance. And Leonid Sarafanov, and Alexander Fadeyev, fighting gravity, demonstrated breathtaking jetés.

After the second intermission, a ballet with another long and strange title, In the Middle, Somewhere Elevated, concluded the program. Created in 1987 for nine dancers of the Paris Opera, this ballet brought William Forsythe fame and recognition. Watching it was a thrill. Six women and three men dressed in almost identical dark green tops and black tights reminded me of a squad of superhumans getting ready for a combat while listening to Thom Willem’s space music. Looking fearless and tireless, dancers moved on stage creating different dance patterns, resembling nine pieces of a puzzle getting assembled and disassembled to form a picture. Ekaterina Kondaurova was without doubt the ‘most valuable dancer’ of the team.

The opening night demonstrated that the Kirov has a new, modern, and interesting program (even if decoration-free staging, gymnastics costumes, and the use of recordings instead of the orchestra made it less appealing than the company's traditional classical repertoire).

The New Cinderella Story

On July 15, the American Ballet Theater (ABT), one of the premier U.S. dance companies, is concluding its two-month season at the Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center in New York. This season’s program is a classical ballet hit parade featuring Swan Lake, Romeo and Juliet, Giselle, Le Corsaire, and Manon. A centerpiece of the program was the U.S. premiere of James Kudelka’s production of Cinderella, which he originally created for the National Ballet of Canada in 2004.

Based on Charles Perrault’s fairy tale, the music for Cinderella was composed by Sergei Prokofiev. The composer began working on the music score in 1940, inspired by the success of his ballet Romeo and Juliet. This work was interrupted by World War II and completed only four years later. Premiered in 1945, in Moscow’s Bolshoi Theater, Cinderella became one of the greatest ballets of the 20th century. Since then, many choreographers have tried their talents in retelling the Cinderella story.

“I wanted to give the characters a human texture,” said Kudelka about his current production of the famous ballet. He envisioned the title heroine not only as a fairytale personage but also as a real person.


Kudelka’s Cinderella is a provincial girl and a dreamer, who enjoys tidying up the house, working in the garden, and dancing. She is ignored by other members of the household: the stepmother is self-absorbed and often too drunk to pay attention to her, and the stepsisters are interested only in fashion and social life. In her family, Cinderella is unnoticed and unloved, but by no means abused or humiliated.

Kudelka decided to replace the famous glass slipper with a sparkling pointe shoe. As a result, in this story, the Prince is looking for the best dancer. When he finally finds Cinderella, they settle in a small cottage, choosing a quiet, provincial life over the splendor of the Royal Palace.

David Boechler’s stage decorations and costumes were inspired by works of French painter and designer Erté and evoke the Art Deco era. I found the stage décor of the second act particularly appealing. Cinderella’s arrival at the Royal Ball, descending from above in a glowing Sputnik-like giant pumpkin, was absolutely spectacular. The search-around-the-world imagery of the third act, depicting a globe projecting on a white backdrop, also deserves a special mention: the idea is simple, yet compelling and visually pleasing.



During the matinee performance on June 10, Julia Kent as Cinderella was fantastic, dancing barefoot, in one shoe, or with both pointe shoes on. Charmingly light and ethereal, she was gracefully moving on stage, as if gliding, so even the most complex pas looked effortless and natural. When her Prince Charming made his appearance in the second act, the show took a new turn. Now it was the Prince Story. Marcelo Gomes, clad in a black tuxedo, looked simply irresistible. His performance was grand and assured, like a dancing Hercules. He could lift Cinderella like a feather, making their romantic duets utterly enchanting. Erica Cornejo and Carmen Corella as the stepsisters demonstrated that they are not only fine dancers but also great comediennes. Dressed first in bright multicolored silk dresses and later in black-and-white ball gowns, it seemed like they wandered in from a Broadway musical. Comical choreography made their characters look humorous and likable. The four officers danced by Jared Matthews, Jesus Pastor, Sascha Radetsky, and Gennadi Saveliev, who accompanied the Prince in his search for the owner of the missing shoe, were excellent, too. The second-act ball scene was a beautiful showcase of the ABT’s corps de ballet.

This new production is a vivid comedy, with plenty of imaginative choreography and eye-catching costumes and decorations. What this Cinderella doesn’t have is a sense of magic... but it offers a good laugh and spectacular dancing.