"Swan Lake"
The National Ballet of Canada
Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts
Toronto, Canada
June 10, 2022
by Denise Sum
copyright © 2022 by Denise Sum
Karen Kain’s “Swan Lake” has been a long time coming. Originally scheduled to premiere in June 2020, the new production was pushed back two years due to the pandemic. It marks the end of Kain’s long career as artistic director of the National Ballet of Canada, from 2005 to 2021. This “Swan Lake” is a collaborative effort. Kain is not a choreographer and while the production is directed and staged by her, she also relies on Associate Artistic Director Christopher Stowell and Choreographic Associate Robert Binet for choreography, which is listed in the program as “after Erik Bruhn, after Lev Ivanov and Marius Petipa”. Sometimes this version suffers from too many cooks in the kitchen and can feel a bit scattered. Nonetheless, it is truer to the heart of the love story and more dynamic than James Kudelka’s bleak and dreary version that the company has been performing since 1999. As such, it feels like a breath of fresh air and will be part of Kain’s legacy with the NBoC.
Jurgita Dronina and Harrison James in "Swan Lake". Photo by Karolina Kuras.
Historically, “Swan Lake” at the NBoC has not been kind to women and has often been shrouded in controversy. The Bruhn production, which Kain spent her career dancing, focused on Siegfried’s psychological struggles and drew a parallel between his overbearing mother and the Black Queen, a female stand-in for Rothbart. Meanwhile, in Kudelka’s puzzling version, Odette is not a woman trapped in swan form – she is literally a bird. The princesses in Act III are treated like chattel, taken around by their male “ambassadors” with their faces hidden. Most egregiously, the first act is stripped of any female characters except the Queen and the wench who is gang raped by the all-male corps de ballet.
Kain brings a much needed and long overdue female perspective to “Swan Lake”. She highlights the humanity of the swans, leaving no doubt that despite their daytime bird-like appearance, they are still women to the core (indeed, in the program, there are “leading women” and “young women” instead of “big swans” and “little swans”). In the prologue, Odette and three of her friends are free spirited maidens dancing in the moonlight. There is a sense of adventurousness, even rebelliousness in them, making Rothbart’s curse that much more dramatic. It serves as a potent reminder that before the swans were uniform and identical, they were individuals with their own personalities, idiosyncrasies and aspirations. When Odette learns of Siegfried’s betrayal in Act IV, her loyal friends are immediately at her side comforting her. They shun Siegfried with sharp movements and flexed wrists, reminiscent of the wilis in “Giselle”. As it happens, the bond Odette shares with her friends endures beyond her relationship with Siegfried. Of course, “Swan Lake” is a story of romantic love, but this version is also about sisterhood and feels more modern as a result.
The designs of this “Swan Lake” are also a departure from previous productions. The sets and costumes by Gabriela Týlešová mirror each other, creating an immersive experience. Painterly patterns from the backdrop are echoed on the swans’ tutus. We are in Rothbart’s dark world, which is made clear from the start with 65 feet animatronic black owl wings which close and open the show. There are projections designed by Sean Nieuwenhuis over the wings to add dimension. The effect is striking.
Other aspects of the designs, however, are less successful. The costumes jump between different countries and historical eras. In Act I, the female corps wear feathery ruffled dresses in candy colors reminiscent of a Moulin Rouge cabaret. In Act III, we are abruptly transported to a Venetian masquerade. Apparently, this serves as a plot device, explaining why guests do not notice Rothbart’s presence. This felt gimmicky and unnecessary. The dancers have fussy, elaborate masks that they wear for a few seconds and then have to remove before actually dancing. There are far too many feathers and too much glitter. Rothbart looks like Captain Hook with his giant pirate hat, Benno looks like a lost Bluebird from Rudolf Nureyev’s “The Sleeping Beauty” with his tall feathered headpiece, and Odette looks like Natalie Portman in “Black Swan” (or Zorro) with her thin black mask. The Hungarian dance is cut out, but there is a French dance that is added, where the dancers wear 18th century style wigs.
As for the dancing, the first act features some nice opportunities for the corps de ballet with musical, inoffensive choreography. The pas de trois is danced by Benno and Siegfried’s two sisters, Celia and Elizabeth (an homage to NBoC founder Celia Franca and National Ballet School co-founder Betty Oliphant). Benno was performed by Naoya Ebe, who spins like a top and has a soaring ballon. Who needs a jester when Benno is doing switch split leaps? As Elizabeth, Jeannine Haller brought her own technical brilliance, with steady balances and crisp entrechats six. The highlight of Act I though, is the soulful, introspective variation for Siegfried created by Bruhn. Harrison James showed off his plastique and control in this very slow and challenging choreography, while conveying the prince’s ambivalence around coming of age.
The canonical Act II Ivanov choreography remains mostly intact, save for some small tweaks that seem there not to serve any particular purpose except to check if you are paying attention. Jurgita Dronina, dancing the 10th version of “Swan Lake” in her career, was equal parts tender and dignified as Odette. She stays in character and does not crank her extensions to 180 degrees just because she can. She makes you care about Odette’s plight. The corps were strong here with clean formations and perfectly synchronised movements. As Rothbart, Spencer Hack made an impression with the small amount of dancing he had, while manoeuvring enormous wings with aplomb.
In the Act III national dances, Genevieve Penn Nabity shone as the lead Russian dancer. In this short variation, she showed great range from subtle gestures in the first part to power and speed in the upbeat second part of the dance. For the Black Swan pas de deux, Kain, like Bruhn, used the adage from George Balanchine’s “Tchaikvosky Pas de Deux”. Odile’s variation uses the oboe-heavy music used in Yuri Grigorovich’s staging, which was also used by James Kudelka for the Wench’s variation in Act I. Siegfried’s variation and the coda use the familiar music from most other productions. Dronina’s Odile was not so much seductive as authoritative and commanding. One gets a sense that Siegfried never stood a chance. She fell off pointe during the fouettés and somehow kept going and stayed on tempo by sheer grit. James danced cleanly while looking a bit helpless under Odile’s spell. What was missing though was the palpable chemistry that is really needed to charge this pas de deux.
The final act is decidedly tragic. Odette eventually forgives Siegfried and confronts Rothbart, knowing that he was behind the deception. But Rothbart drowns Siegfried in the storm and the final bars of music see Odette, doomed to captivity, bouréeing around her love’s dead body.
Although “Swan Lake” is a workhorse of any classical company, there have been so many interpretations and modifications to the original that purists will find it hard to find a satisfying version. Kain’s version has its shortcomings, but it also contains some lovely tributes to the NBoC’s history, much of which is entrenched with Kain’s career. This, as well as the female perspective, make this “Swan Lake” distinctive and memorable.
Jurgita Dronina and Harrison James in "Swan Lake". Photo by Karolina Kuras.