“Onegin”
The National Ballet of Canada
Four Seasons Centre of the Performing Arts
Toronto, Canada
March 17, 2011
Denise Sum
copyright 2011 by Denise Sum
In the words of Oscar Wilde, “the heart was made to be broken.” Perhaps that is why John Cranko’s tragic “Onegin” is so loved around the world. When done right, watching “Onegin” is satisfying and cathartic. And the National Ballet of Canada certainly did it right on this St. Patrick’s Day opening night performance.
“Onegin” was part of the 2009-2010 season, with performances last June. At that time, the company unveiled Santo Loquasto’s new sets and costumes, which were lush and beautifully rendered although somewhat fussy. New designs aside, the ballet certainly struck a chord among Toronto dancegoers who came in throngs to witness Pushkin’s enduring love story told through dramatic dance and Tchaikovsky’s evocative music. In the press release, Artistic Director Karen Kain states, “we had such an overwhelming response to ‘Onegin’... we simply had to bring it back this season for a limited run.”
Aleksandar Antonijevic revisited the title role, opposite Sonia Rodriguez’s Tatiana. From the start, he seems formal and indifferent, in stark contrast to the warm country folk he meets. He stands in a stiff, upright posture, one hand behind his back. The lack of breath in his upper body reads volumes, as he is stifled by ennui. He keeps others at an arm’s length, figuratively and literally. Rather than engaging with his surroundings, he is detached and numb, a cool observer. Yet, like Byronic heroes before him, there is also an undeniable appeal about him that we see Tatiana fall for from that moment in Act I when he quietly comes behind her and lifts her off her feet. As he moves with weary, sweeping lunges, she nervously bourées around him, unsure what else to do in this unfamiliar situation. Their whole interaction is perfectly summarized when he exits stage right. Tatiana, standing behind him, reaches for his hand. At that moment, oblivious to her, he lifts it to his face and she retreats, slowly walking backwards with longing written across her face.
The duo, frequently paired together over the years, have a partnership that is strong and secure, allowing them both to take physical and artistic risks. The mirror pas de deux was one of the most exciting in recent memory. They were both completely in the moment. Rodriguez was fearless and Antonijevic was a formidable partner. After all the glorious dancing, she ends lying at his feet. She wishes her dream would never end, and so do we, because we know what happens next.
In Act II, Rodriguez’s sweetly naïve Tatiana is completely unsuspecting of any impending heartache, while Onegin plays solitaire simply pretending that he is unaware of Tatiana giddily telling her mother about him. When he sees her whispering to a friend while looking his way, he snaps with a frightening suddenness. He confronts Tatiana, tears up her letter before her, and the anger suddenly dissipates. He slumps into his chair, resigned to his incapability of loving. Although he appears proud and callous, Antonijevic shows the audience the pervasive sadness just below the surface of Onegin’s self-destructive existence. Tatiana’s variation following her heartbreak is confused and lost. Cranko gives her brilliant footwork, but the ports de bras are shaky, unsure, a metaphor for her broken state.
The drama builds swiftly following the duel scene, when Onegin and Tatiana’s paths cross again years later in St. Petersburg. Now Onegin, once cool and collected, looks manic and out of control. In the ballroom, watching her, he has to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. In the final pas de deux, he encircles her with his arms and falls to her feet in admiration and shame. Rodriguez resists him for a long time, before she crumbles, bringing intensity and passion to the final moments of the ballet. As she falls back and he catches her, her palms face up in a desperate gesture of “why?”. Rodriguez is very slight, but her movements are large and powerful. She communicates Tatiana’s resolve, strong sense of honor, and resilience, standing tall as the curtain comes down.
In the supporting roles, Jillian Vanstone was a fine Olga. She is blessed with an easy, light jump, strong center, and perfect placement. Everything she does looks as it should, clean and effortless. As Lensky, Piotr Stancyzk’s lines left something to be desired and his solo in Act I seemed rushed, lacking poetry. However, he fared better in the more emotionally-charged Act II variation. His dread is palpable as he prepares to die for his romantic ideals. As Prince Gremin, Jonathan Renna was a picture of dutiful love. The corps de ballet looked splendid and natural throughout, moving as a cohesive whole. The men, especially, seemed to have fun with the Russian character dance in Act I, and the dramatic diagonales of grand jetés were spectacular.
“Onegin” is a ballet that is deeply moving for viewers and seems to nurture the development of individual dancers and the company as a whole. As such, one hopes that it will continue to be performed frequently as a touchstone of authentic storytelling and brilliant drama.
Aleksandar Antonijevic revisited the title role, opposite Sonia Rodriguez’s Tatiana. From the start, he seems formal and indifferent, in stark contrast to the warm country folk he meets. He stands in a stiff, upright posture, one hand behind his back. The lack of breath in his upper body reads volumes, as he is stifled by ennui. He keeps others at an arm’s length, figuratively and literally. Rather than engaging with his surroundings, he is detached and numb, a cool observer. Yet, like Byronic heroes before him, there is also an undeniable appeal about him that we see Tatiana fall for from that moment in Act I when he quietly comes behind her and lifts her off her feet. As he moves with weary, sweeping lunges, she nervously bourées around him, unsure what else to do in this unfamiliar situation. Their whole interaction is perfectly summarized when he exits stage right. Tatiana, standing behind him, reaches for his hand. At that moment, oblivious to her, he lifts it to his face and she retreats, slowly walking backwards with longing written across her face.
The duo, frequently paired together over the years, have a partnership that is strong and secure, allowing them both to take physical and artistic risks. The mirror pas de deux was one of the most exciting in recent memory. They were both completely in the moment. Rodriguez was fearless and Antonijevic was a formidable partner. After all the glorious dancing, she ends lying at his feet. She wishes her dream would never end, and so do we, because we know what happens next.
In Act II, Rodriguez’s sweetly naïve Tatiana is completely unsuspecting of any impending heartache, while Onegin plays solitaire simply pretending that he is unaware of Tatiana giddily telling her mother about him. When he sees her whispering to a friend while looking his way, he snaps with a frightening suddenness. He confronts Tatiana, tears up her letter before her, and the anger suddenly dissipates. He slumps into his chair, resigned to his incapability of loving. Although he appears proud and callous, Antonijevic shows the audience the pervasive sadness just below the surface of Onegin’s self-destructive existence. Tatiana’s variation following her heartbreak is confused and lost. Cranko gives her brilliant footwork, but the ports de bras are shaky, unsure, a metaphor for her broken state.
The drama builds swiftly following the duel scene, when Onegin and Tatiana’s paths cross again years later in St. Petersburg. Now Onegin, once cool and collected, looks manic and out of control. In the ballroom, watching her, he has to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. In the final pas de deux, he encircles her with his arms and falls to her feet in admiration and shame. Rodriguez resists him for a long time, before she crumbles, bringing intensity and passion to the final moments of the ballet. As she falls back and he catches her, her palms face up in a desperate gesture of “why?”. Rodriguez is very slight, but her movements are large and powerful. She communicates Tatiana’s resolve, strong sense of honor, and resilience, standing tall as the curtain comes down.
In the supporting roles, Jillian Vanstone was a fine Olga. She is blessed with an easy, light jump, strong center, and perfect placement. Everything she does looks as it should, clean and effortless. As Lensky, Piotr Stancyzk’s lines left something to be desired and his solo in Act I seemed rushed, lacking poetry. However, he fared better in the more emotionally-charged Act II variation. His dread is palpable as he prepares to die for his romantic ideals. As Prince Gremin, Jonathan Renna was a picture of dutiful love. The corps de ballet looked splendid and natural throughout, moving as a cohesive whole. The men, especially, seemed to have fun with the Russian character dance in Act I, and the dramatic diagonales of grand jetés were spectacular.
“Onegin” is a ballet that is deeply moving for viewers and seems to nurture the development of individual dancers and the company as a whole. As such, one hopes that it will continue to be performed frequently as a touchstone of authentic storytelling and brilliant drama.
Photo:
Sonia Rodriguez and Aleksandar Antonijevic in "Onegin". Photo by Bruce Zinger.