“Rushes”, “Serenade”, “Homage to the Queen”
23 April – 14 May 2008
Royal Ballet
Royal Opera House, Covent Garden
London, England
by Judith Cruickshank
copyright 2008 by Judith Cruickshank
Nearly 30 years ago when he was director of the Berlin Ballet, Valery Panov created a full evening ballet based on Dostoevsky’s novel “The Idiot”. Despite strong performers — Panov himself as Rogozin, the Kirov-trained Vladimir Gelvan in the title role and Eva Evdokimova as Nastasya — and some blindingly theatrical moments, the ballet failed to deliver much idea of the richness and complexity of Dostoevsky's plot and writing.
In his first creation for the Royal Ballet, the Danish choreographer Kim Brandstrup also claims “The Idiot” as his inspiration. But rather than the published novel he has turned to Dostoevsky’s early drafts in which the central figure combined the characteristics of both the saintly Prince Myshkin and the worldly anti-hero Rogozin.
The title of the piece, “Rushes: fragments of a story”, is presumably meant to let us know that this is not intended to be a literal version of the story but rather an evocation of the main themes. In fact what we get is Carlos Acosta agonising over a woman in a scarlet dress — Laura Moreravwhile another girl in a grey dress — Alina Cojocaru — hangs around in the hope of comforting him. All this goes on for about 30 minutes with occasional interruptions from a group dressed in grey who seem to have little purpose other than to provide the principals with a breather.
There is a series of impassioned encounters between Acosta and Morera, the final one ending with Morera on the ground. She gets up and walks away, the overlapping bead curtains of Richard Hudson's set rise and leave the stage bathed in a golden glow. Cojocaru creeps on to the stage, dances a final number with Acosta to piano accompaniment, and the piece ends.
It’s all done very nicely. Richard Hudson’s set is extremely handsome and was well lit by Jean Kalman; although I thought the flickering film projections were an annoyance if anything. Michael Berkeley’s arrangement of Prokofiev’s supposedly “lost” score for a film “The Queen of Spades” was skillful and pleasant, though it seemed to have little relation to what was actually happening on stage.
The choreography was inoffensive and entirely forgettable. There were some energetic pas de deux full of complex grapplings which reminded me of nothing so much as ice dancing, and intense solos which were I guess meant to convey the characters’ inner turmoil. As most of them were performed behind the curtain, their effect was muted.
I was left wondering what the piece would have looked like with less gifted and committed dancers and whether it merited the effort they had put into learning and performing it. The links to Dostoevsky's great novel are so tenuous that to detail them in the programme note seemed a hindrance rather than providing any hint as to what was going on. Altogether it was a very long 30 minutes.
The evening opened with a revival of Balanchine’s “Serenade”, happily
given at a much brisker pace than has been the case with the Royal
Ballet in previous years. Of the three female principals Marianela
Nuñez was a real delight. Always a musical dancer, she is now learning
to play with the music, adding, as it were, her own grace notes while
always being faithful to Tchaikovsky’s ecstatic, romantic drive. In the
other women’s roles Mara Galeazzi as the Dark Angel and Lauren
Cuthbertson were fine, Cuthbertson looking happier and more secure than
is often the case. And when freed from its ballerina bun, what
beautiful hair she has.
Federico Bonelli was an ardent partner for Nuñez and Rupert Pennefather — looking impossibly handsome — was, well, impossibly handsome in the last movement, and I guess you can't ask for more. The corps de ballet was mixed. “Serenade” is such a musically driven piece, and some of the dancers were clearly responding to the pulse of the score, but there were times when I could almost hear some of them counting.
“Homage to the Queen”, which concluded the evening, is a difficult piece. Originally conceived as a homage to the newly crowned Elizabeth II, it had not been performed for many years and most of Ashton's choreography had reportedly been forgotten. It was revived two years ago as a tribute to the Queen's 80th birthday with new choreography for the Queens of Earth, Water and Fire, while retaining Ashton's entree and Queen of Air Choreography, originally made for Margot Fonteyn.
The designer in 1953 was Oliver Messel, whom Peter Farmer, the designer of the revival, has dismissed as merely “a decorator”. Well, that may be so, but whereas Messel's designs were light, elegant and chic, Farmer appears to have run riot in a furnishing fabrics warehouse. His costumes are stiff, heavy, unflattering and crudely coloured. Upholstery rather than danceability is the overwhelming impression, and the elements of décor are enough to turn one into a republican simply on the grounds of taste.
At this showing I thought David Bintley's Earth section the most
successful of the added elements, Bonelli particularly dashing in his
virtuoso variation and Leanne Benjamin sinuous and sensual as his
Queen. Miyako Yoshida, now a guest artist, returned to her old company
to shine sweetly through Michael Corder's Water section. Fire suffered
from undercasting, Kenta Kura being no substitute for Stephen McRae in
the high profile entries devised by Christopher Wheeldon; and poor
Alexandra Ansanelli struggled with clumsy and ungracious partnering
from David Makhateli in Ashton's choreography for the Queen of the Air.
Several writers have suggested that this piece is no longer worth performing, and I certainly would not rush to hear Malcolm Arnold's thumping score again. But it contains some fine choreography and I think that, stripped of its décor and with simpler costuming, it could serve as a useful classical showcase.
Photos:
Laura Morera and Carlos Acosta in Kim Brandstrup's "Rushes." Photo by Bill Cooper.
The Royal Ballet in Balanchine's "Serenade." Photo by Bill Cooper.
Alexandra Ansanelli and David Makhateli in "Homage to the Queen." Photo by Bill Cooper.
