"Sylvia"
American Ballet Theatre
Metropolitan Opera House
New York, NY
May 11, 2016, matinee
by Mary Cargill
copyright © 2016 by Mary Cargill
After the veritable flood of guest stars appearing the last few seasons, ABT's focus on its own dancers is a welcome change. There is only one official guest star (Alessandra Ferri) and two "exchange artists" (though what is being exchanged is not clear). One, Xander Parish, appeared in "Sylvia" with Isabella Boylston (a debut). Parish, Royal Ballet trained and currently dancing with the Mariinsky, is tall, dark and handsome, with long legs and arms. He has danced Ashton's version in Russia so his initial shakiness during the opening solo as he made those slow turns into deep arabesques was surprising; he looked like he was rushing and the pensive, wistful air of a classic Attic shepherd hopelessly in love was only lightly sketched.
Isabella Boylston and Xander Parish in "Sylvia" photo © Rosalie O'Connor.
Once the huntresses poured on, however he seemed to relax and he was a focused, generous partner and died elegantly, feet carefully pointed. Aminta barely gets a look in after the first act until he turns up for the final pas de deux, but the evocative tableau vivant where Aminta mimes his longing behind a gauze curtain was elegantly done. It is one of my favorite moments in that beautiful ballet; how daring of Ashton to create eye-poetry instead of exertion to express desire. Few have been more effective than Parish, with his long arms expressing hopeless desire. His solo in the final scene had an energetic freedom. I did miss the more restrained classical sculptured look that some dancers have, but his joy was irresistible.
Boylston, too, combined freedom and joy in her debut. She is not a strict classical dancer and the singing silver line from the raised arm to the lower arabesque leg was missing, as Boylston tended to fling her back leg as high as she could, throwing classical harmony to the wind. Her arms, too, could flail in emergencies, but her musicality, tremendous jumps, and dramatic commitment (her combination of pathos and pride during the cave scene was very moving) were, in the end, as irresistible as Parish's.
Her Sylvia was not so much of a man-hating acolyte of the chaste Diana as a young woman rejoicing in her freedom. There were little hints that her disdain for Eros and rejection of Aminta were protesting too much and she seemed to revel in the sensuality of the bathing scene; this created an intriguing dramatic through-line, as if Eros's arrow were an excuse, not a capricious chance. She made a charmingly innocent hoochie coochie dancer in Orion's cave, though the moment when she realized she could befuddle her captor was a bit fudged (it used to be clear, though the light bulb going off expression did raise some laughs). She seemed to go from rejecting Orion's jewels to surrendering to him in a split second; unless you knew the story it seemed as if she had just given up on Aminta.
Her pizzicato solo was beautifully phrased, her points eloquent and pliable. The final pas de deux, one of Ashton's most evocative--those gentle moments where the couple nestle in each other's arms, the confident stops in mid-turn to a perfect position, the daring leaps into those fish dives--and the couple danced it with a natural elegance, adding warmth and exuberance. The final pose, as Sylvia poses on Aminta's shoulder with her arms open, seemed to embrace her partner, everyone on stage, and the entire audience.
Eros, Gabe Stone Shayer in another debut, also danced with a special lilt. He was not the slightly capricious, almost dangerous little god who does enjoy his power (even if he used it to make people happy). His soft, boneless quality and beaming smile seemed to radiate kindness and generosity; it was an impressive debut.
The corps, especially the three naiads with their shimmering hands mimicking water, were vibrant and alive, though the difficult pin-point synchronization of their heads and arms which can make them look like they are inside the music, came and went. The two applause-generating goats, Skylar Brandt and Arron Scott, deserved every clap; I especially liked Scott's impeccable musicality and deadpan expression. Alexandre Hammoudi was a stylish Orion -- the bad guy does get all the best jumps. Zhong-Jing Fang, usually cast so memorably in lyrical, moonlit roles, was a fine Diana, using her bow like an exclamation point and then surrendering, almost eagerly, to the memory of Endymion. And the audience gladly surrendered to the ballet and all its dancers.
copyright © 2016 by Mary Cargill