“The Merry Widow”
American Ballet Theatre
Metropolitan Opera House
New York, NY
June 30, 2008
by Leigh Witchel
copyright © 2008 by Leigh Witchel
There are worse ways to pass a summer evening than to enjoy American Ballet Theater’s big, opulent and undemanding production of Ronald Hynd’s “The Merry Widow”. Cobbled out of Franz Lehár’s operetta and a cross between “Hello Dolly” and “The Sound of Music,” “The Merry Widow” is ABT’s answer to the summer blockbuster film. The ballet tells the story of Hanna Glawari and Danilo Danilowitch, two Parisian expatriates of the fictional but nearly bankrupt Balkan state of Pontevedro. Hanna, recently widowed, is extremely wealthy. Danilo is an eligible bachelor, albeit one who drinks a bit too much. Baron Zeta, the Pontevedrian ambassador, attempts to play matchmaker between to keep Hanna’s millions in Pontevedro. Meanwhile, his own marriage to the young and pretty Frenchwoman Valencienne is in more trouble than he knows, in the person of the French diplomat Camille de Rosillon. Hanna and Danilo also quickly discover they have a past. Along the way there are dancing attachés, restaurant patrons and of course dancing Pontevedrians before the obligatory happy ending.
Hanna Glawari is a role in which a magnetic ballerina can age gracefully; Fonteyn used it as a late-career vehicle. Julie Kent is aging gracefully. Her turns are cautious but she still has beautiful line and unfolds her long limbs and prehensile feet to pull out movement to the end of the phrase. Playing the anguished heroine is her specialty – at times, Kent seems so comfortable at being the senior ballerina that one can imagine her planning her retirement gala at age 17. Her pained ballerina face is a shtick, but one expertly cultivated over the years to where it doesn’t matter if it’s real; it still adds texture to a one dimensional role.
Jose Manuel Carreño was the first Danilo when ABT brought the ballet into repertory a decade ago. His slapstick characterization owes something to Benny Hill and it takes some willing suspension of disbelief to picture him as Slavic, but what the heck. His partnering is still excellent and he did a few turns where he pleased even himself. Xiomara Reyes played Valencienne, the French Girl Who Can’t Say No, and Carreño corkscrewed her into some impressive air turns. Apart from those, and her clean technique, Reyes is a dancer who, like this ballet, has mostly short-term impact. Gennadi Saveliev played her love interest but they did not have much chemistry. As the cuckolded Baron, Victor Barbee managed to be sympathetic and also to encapsulate the ballet’s moral ambiguities. He realized that his marriage was a threesome but acknowledged the reality of it and motioned to his wife to exit with him on one arm and her lover on the other. Joseph Phillips, a new soloist, was a baby-faced firecracker of a Lead Pontevedrian in Act II. He’s quite a trickster doing multiple tours in rapid succession; it was great fun to watch his Gypsy pants billowing as he revolved.
Hynd’s choreography may never rise above fluent and unmemorable, but
given the current state of things, let’s give credit for fluent and
unmemorable yet competently constructed. Robert Helpmann, a man who
knew a thing or two about theater, shared credit for the libretto with Hynd. They told
a complicated plot clearly enough that a synopsis is mostly
unnecessary. “The Merry Widow” is also cagey about filling holes in
the repertory. Bowing to the audience’s desire for fireworks, Hynd
included it, but for Camille and Valencienne and in divertissements
that provide sparkle without upstaging the stars. And “The Merry
Widow” can keep the hungry beast that is ABT’s male corps de ballet
sated. The elaborate art nouveau décor and opulent costumes were by
Desmond Heeley. I think my favorite was what Kent wore on her entrance
to Chez Maxim in Act III, an immense white tulle coat/wrap/blancmange.
copyright © 2008 by Leigh Witchel
Photos by Gene Schiavone:
Julie Kent and Jose Manuel Carreño in “The Merry Widow”
