“Giselle”
Mikhailovsky Ballet
David H. Koch Theater
New York, New York,
November 11, 2014
by Michael Popkin
Copyright © 2014 by Michael Popkin
Sincere acting and characterization were the centerpieces of a surprisingly intimate reading of “Giselle” by the Mikhailovsky Ballet on the opening night of its two-week visit to Lincoln Center on Tuesday. With Natalia Osipova and Leonid Sarafanov in the leading roles, modesty, understatement and artistic integrity surprisingly drove the artistic process as – in the increasingly internationalized world of western ballet - the St. Petersburg ensemble from a regional theater made a case for “small is beautiful.”
Corps de Ballet in the Mikhailovsky Ballet’s “Giselle” © Mikhailovsky Ballet
While the New York audience has long been familiar with both Russia’s Bolshoi and Mariinsky Ballet companies, the current tour by the Mikhailovsky is its first visit to the United States. Yet founded in the 1930’s as the resident troop of then Leningrad’s (now St. Petersburg’s) famous Maly Theater, the company has an illustrious history within Russia. Both Fyodor Lopukhov and Leonid Lavrovsky directed it during the early years and artists like Vakhtang Chabukiani and Konstantin Sergeyev danced there. Still it remained a regional ensemble until a recent influx of financial resources enabled the appointment of Mikhail Messerer as ballet master and the hiring of stars like Osipova and Sarafanov. At a time when the Russian state was privatizing, so apparently were the Russian arts; the Mikhailovsky juiced itself up and looked for international recognition. Just how brightly its star would burn and for how long were the questions. Based on what we saw opening night, brightly enough to more than justify its tour here; but with the paradox that its individuality constitutes its appeal.
While the look and text of this “Giselle” have any number of standard elements, subtle differences are apparent from the first. To begin with is nomenclature: the leading man we usually call Albrecht is here the Count; his father in law-to-be is the Duke, whose daughter is the Count’s Fiancée. Hilarion is here the Gamekeeper. The effect of these name changes, every one making the roles more abstract and generic, is to start moving the production away from the familiar.
The costumes and sets (by Nikita Dolgushin) resemble ABT’s and those of the Paris Opera. For Act I there’s the usual village square with two buildings at either side of the stage and a castle on a hill behind. Act II takes place in the autumn woods. Giselle’s grave is downstage left and a stream meanders in the distance. Russet tones and oak leaves predominate and screens of these leaves rise and fall (distractingly at times) during the second act, masking the Wilis’ entrances in the center rear and Giselle’s comings and goings near the grave. Her costume in the first act is a violet-blue romantic tutu (very like the one Osipova wore her last time out in the role at ABT); her friends are in gold or blue. The village boys are out of Breughel while the visiting nobility and huntsmen (reduced to a few) are in sumptuous red and gold. The Duke and the Count’s Fiancée enter leading magnificent Borzoi hounds.
In significant differences of action, the initial mime sequence between the Count and his page (called armor-bearer here) when the servant protests his master’s escapade (mime: “what are you doing here without your sword, this is wrong, let’s go home”) is extended to coincide with the conflict music in the score at this point. That conflict between count and page then matches a similar exchange at the start of the second act, when the count enters the dangerous woods and his servant tries to get him to leave (mime: “it’s spooky here, we should leave”). The thematic bookending also serves to tone the drama down.
The traditional mime sequence by Giselle’s Mother in the middle of the first act, where she warns her daughter not to become a Wili, is omitted. In another change, after the Duke and the Count’s Fiancée go to rest in Giselle’s cottage, the peasant pas de deux is danced not to entertain the nobles, but in front of Giselle’s mother seated on a stool instead.
Unique and finely textured orchestral touches also accumulate to give the score differences from the usual musical text –- harp trills and the tinkling of bells are a background during the second act pas de deux. A reprise of the musical theme from the first act villagers’ dance appears in a diminished chord structure during a second Wilis’ entrance. The formerly galloping village maidens are now in the spirit world.
In an old fashioned touch, traditional stage machinery is used to create a “flight” for Giselle during the second act. At the point where she scatters flowers for the Count, she’s suddenly elevated (with stagecraft that could be straight from the 19th century) to hover about the side of the stage (on either wires or a platform) where she rains petals down on her lover. (This recalls the Royal Danish Ballet’s use of traditional machinery in the second act of “La Sylphide”).
The effect of all of this, combined with the Mikhailovsky’s orchestra (brought to New York at what must have been considerable expense for the tour) taking the score very slowly and delicately and refusing to punch anything out, is to give the theatrical experience a precious 19th century cameo feel, as if you were watching chiseled figures at the center of an intaglio composition in an oval frame. It’s old fashioned in the best sense. Technical bravura is eschewed. The very Russian dance technique of the company reinforces this impression. Everyone is centered. Rondes-de-jambes or porte de bras move clearly through the core of the dancers' bodies with every performance of such a sequence or step. Entrechats are done with the full leg, clearly showing the shape of pointed feet.
Meanwhile the drama developes slowly and quietly and almost at low volume. It allowed characters to be shown clearly, and here Osipova’s “Giselle” was not so much a naïve child as an emotionally open young woman blinded by a developing love for the Count: a Giselle out of Chekhov (as it were from the Maly Theater stage). While the Count for his part was not a crass seducer but instead a nobleman whose heart was pulling him out of his depth; and always in the background in Act I was Giselle’s physically infirm heart, a point that Osipova conveyed sensitively and that Sarafanov’s character quickly was aware of.
Interrupting their charming initial dances full of airy, floating jumps (both dancers have extraordinary ballon) Osipova was suddenly stricken by faintness. Coming downstage to the side as if for a soliloquy, she conveyed that weakness as if in her bones as she touched her heart. Sarafanov immediately moved to her with empathy and concern. The deeply passionate link between them lasted into the mad scene. Here Osipova did not overplay: there was no tearing of the hair. After Sarafanov’s momentary weakness of character when, surprised by his Fiancée’s and the Duke’s unexpected presence, he denied knowing Giselle, the couple quickly were drawn back into their love for each other, and this even as Giselle staggered to her death. When she dropped to the floor to die, it was out of her lover’s embrace. Because she had already forgiven him, and established her protective love before the curtain fell in the first act, the emotional arc of the second act was simplified.
Paradoxically, this had the effect of making the second act as much about the Count as about Giselle, and this suited the talents and temperaments of the two leading dancers surprisingly well. Because for all of the elevation of her jumps, Osipova is not a particularly airy creature on the stage. With a turned in physique, she’s supremely physical and, in the midst of a consistently Russian styled company, was the one dancer with a markedly contemporary international presentation. Sarafanov on the other hand is the traditional Russian classical type. Carrying himself elegantly in everything he does, with an open upper body, legs stretched at the knee and good feet, he shows great lines in everything he does. The jump is powerful yet light; his double tours close to fifth position consistently without showing effort.
While his partnering skills could have improved, by the end of the second act Sarafanov had taken over the performance, so that the final sequence of about 25 straight up and down entrechats six were a magnificent expression, not just of his dance chops, but of his character’s despairing strength and implacable will (when supported by Giselle’s love) expressed in physical steps.
Consistent with the leading dancers’ intrinsically positive interpretation of their respective characters as good people doing questionable things, Roman Petukhov’s portrayal of the Gamekeeper was also without malice or great anger. Giselle might have loved this Hilarion had things been different. Meanwhile Ekaterina Borchenko’s Queen of the Wilis was protective of her group of abandoned maiden spirits, if also murderous towards the two guilty male intruders who fell into her grasp. Borchenko’s act two dancing was spectacular. Tall, blonde and beautiful, with impressively regal Vaganova epaulement and a jump that covered huge distances on the stage, she became just as vivid a protagonist here as the other two leading dancers. The first act peasant pas de deux danced by Veronia Ignatyeva and Andrey Yakhnyuk was likewise impressively styled and finished.
Was this most moving and emotional performance of “Giselle” ever? No. The development of the action was slow; the subdued dynamics of the music and intimacy of the drama did not make for florid emotion. Restraint and taste were the words that came to mind; the ballet felt like both a period piece and an interior characterization that was surprisingly contemporary in emotional tone. But it was a unique “Giselle” and the very opposite of the international style we see in this year in and year out. A regional Russian company with some big name stars thus justified its presence in New York by giving us just what the big companies do not.
Photos:
Middle: Natalia Osipova as Giselle © Costas Cacaroukas
Bottom: Leonid Sarafanov as the Count © Mikhailovsky Ballet