Coppelia
New York City Ballet
Lincoln Center, New York
April 28, 2009
by Tom Phillips
Copyright 2009 by Tom Phillips
"Coppelia" is one ballet that's probably safe from Disney culture. I can't imagine it being turned into an empty, treacly entertainment with a doll-like heroine who bats her eyelashes at the audience -- because it already has a doll-like heroine who bats her eyelashes at the audience, and she's a nasty girl. Especially in George Balanchine's masterful version of the tale, Swanilda is self-centered and cruel, and her lover Frantz is a village idiot who agrees to marry her only after she trashes the mannequin he's been pining after. Only through the magic of ballet can this unappealing pair be raised to a vision of the ideal, but it happens regularly in New York City Ballet's production, especially with Megan Fairchild and Joaquin de Luz as the young lovers.
As Swanilda, the leader of a pack of small-town mean girls, Fairchild produces the paradox of the irresistible vixen. This she does with elegant, sprightly steps, a sweet smile, and most of all a luxurious, instinctive musicality that lets her use Delibes' sensual score as a jumping-off point. There's never any affectation in her rubato, just an extraordinary level of comfort in the music.
As Frantz, the local show-off, de Luz exudes a careless confidence in his bravura style -- ripping off tight spins and explosve leaps at will, with a smile that says he has no competition in this town. Indeed, the rest of the men are all peasants, whose spirited folk-dance provides a historical floor for the refinement of ballet.
But there's more to Balanchine's Coppelia than ballet and folk-dance. The dramatic centerpiece is the character of Dr. Coppelius, the cranky old artisan who creates the doll of his dreams, and then is cruelly fooled by Swanilda into believing she's come alive. The venerable and wise Robert La Fosse makes him a figure more tragic than comic. We can't help but feel his ecstasy at the chance to dance with his own fantastical creation, and the pain of knowing how that dance will end. The atmosphere of Act Two is weird and Gothic, in the dark world of Dr. Coppelius's secret workshop, rendered as something between a museum store-room and a crypt in the brilliant set by Rouben Ter-Arutunian. The rude invasion by Frantz, Coppelia and her friends is worse than a prank -- as others have pointed out, it could represent Balanchine's own feelings as an artist whose labors of love were routinely ridiculed and torn apart.
That's not the end of the story, of course. Act Three is mostly pure dance, with crowds of angelic children kicking off the celebration with the sublime "Waltz of the Hours," and re-entering later to wave bye-bye, capping what may be Balanchine's most festive finale. A high point of the celebration was Rebecca Krohn's "Prayer" variation, in which she showed the intention behind Balanchine's "taking off your sweater" port de bras, i.e. full exposure of the soul.
A special salute goes to apprentice Callie Bachman, who sat as stiff as a board through the part of the doll Coppelia, and then came back frolicking in striped pantaloons, leading the finale as one of four irresistible Jesterettes.
There were a few details to complain about on this opening-night production, but I'll pass. I feel too grateful for the company's willingness to keep this unique treasure alive. "Coppelia" has three more performances through Sunday, May 3.
Copyright 2009 by Tom Phillips
