The Trocks, 30/10/2018
Chopin : Les Sylphides
Cage/Franck : Patterns in Space
Verdi : La Trovatiara - Pas de cinq
Saint-Saëns : The Swan
Minkus : Paquita - Grand Pas de deux
Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo
I wish I was a better physiognomist, because I have to admit I find it very difficult to identify dancers through several inches of heavy make-up and fake eyelashes. The programme booklet is useless in this respect, because the first thing that happens at every Trocks performance is a comprehensive list of cast changes, announced in a thick cod-Russian accent. First of all, I never know whether to take that at face value or not, and secondly, it's quite hard to make out the names because everyone's laughing at them. So there are not many of the dancers I'm sure of, and if anyone reading this was there tonight, and knows I've got it wrong, please feel free to correct me. However, there are no stars in the Trocks, or rather, they all are.
I mentioned, after their last visit to Scotland, three years ago, that I was a little wearied of their Swan Lake Act 2, which had opened the show on both occasions I saw the company at that point. It was therefore with pleasure that I found tonight's show commencing with Les Sylphides, even though I'm not all that fond of that particular ballet in its normal guise. However, that just makes the spoof all the more tasty. I won't say it's more subtle, the Trocks don't really do subtle, but it's not quite so gag-laden. The one recurrent joke was the Poet, Nicholas Khachafallenjar tonight, more completely spaced-out, rather than romantically dreamy.
Patterns in Space, after Merce Cunningham, is the one item that rather went over my head, simply because I'm not that familiar with Cunningham's work. So the three dancers were more notable for their wonderfully awful crushed velvet costumes and wild hair, and most of my attention was on the two on-stage 'musicians', providing an accompaniment of weird and wonderful sounds, from popped paper bags to whisks in kettles, all delivered with earnest seriousness. As for La Trovatiara, of course, it doesn't exist - I'm not even sure the music is actually Verdi, though there were certainly some tunes of his in there. That said, since most of the ballets are systematically cut from his operas in performance, it's just possible that the music is indeed original Verdi. The choreographic style is pastiche Petipa, a touch of Le corsaire about it, but it's not one of the Trocks' more inspired numbers. Olga Supphozova's Dying Swan, however, was one of the best versions of this Trocks classic I've seen, more controlled and more effective.
Their take on the Grand Pas from Paquita, however, is a joy from start to finish. The corps throws itself into its numbers with unrestrained glee, arms and legs flung around with cheerful abandon. The premier danseur can't manage a lift to save himself, much to the annoyance of the prima ballerina, but most of the variations are delivered largely come scritto, notably Paquita's one. There's a zest to the performance here that's genuinely captivating, and that, as well as the cheeky encore, where the company dons neon-green versions of the Statue of Liberty's sun-ray crown and high-kicks to "New York, New York", are an excellent reminder of just why the Trocks remain an unalloyed pleasure after all these years.
[Next : 2nd November]
Cage/Franck : Patterns in Space
Verdi : La Trovatiara - Pas de cinq
Saint-Saëns : The Swan
Minkus : Paquita - Grand Pas de deux
Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo
I wish I was a better physiognomist, because I have to admit I find it very difficult to identify dancers through several inches of heavy make-up and fake eyelashes. The programme booklet is useless in this respect, because the first thing that happens at every Trocks performance is a comprehensive list of cast changes, announced in a thick cod-Russian accent. First of all, I never know whether to take that at face value or not, and secondly, it's quite hard to make out the names because everyone's laughing at them. So there are not many of the dancers I'm sure of, and if anyone reading this was there tonight, and knows I've got it wrong, please feel free to correct me. However, there are no stars in the Trocks, or rather, they all are.
I mentioned, after their last visit to Scotland, three years ago, that I was a little wearied of their Swan Lake Act 2, which had opened the show on both occasions I saw the company at that point. It was therefore with pleasure that I found tonight's show commencing with Les Sylphides, even though I'm not all that fond of that particular ballet in its normal guise. However, that just makes the spoof all the more tasty. I won't say it's more subtle, the Trocks don't really do subtle, but it's not quite so gag-laden. The one recurrent joke was the Poet, Nicholas Khachafallenjar tonight, more completely spaced-out, rather than romantically dreamy.
Patterns in Space, after Merce Cunningham, is the one item that rather went over my head, simply because I'm not that familiar with Cunningham's work. So the three dancers were more notable for their wonderfully awful crushed velvet costumes and wild hair, and most of my attention was on the two on-stage 'musicians', providing an accompaniment of weird and wonderful sounds, from popped paper bags to whisks in kettles, all delivered with earnest seriousness. As for La Trovatiara, of course, it doesn't exist - I'm not even sure the music is actually Verdi, though there were certainly some tunes of his in there. That said, since most of the ballets are systematically cut from his operas in performance, it's just possible that the music is indeed original Verdi. The choreographic style is pastiche Petipa, a touch of Le corsaire about it, but it's not one of the Trocks' more inspired numbers. Olga Supphozova's Dying Swan, however, was one of the best versions of this Trocks classic I've seen, more controlled and more effective.
Their take on the Grand Pas from Paquita, however, is a joy from start to finish. The corps throws itself into its numbers with unrestrained glee, arms and legs flung around with cheerful abandon. The premier danseur can't manage a lift to save himself, much to the annoyance of the prima ballerina, but most of the variations are delivered largely come scritto, notably Paquita's one. There's a zest to the performance here that's genuinely captivating, and that, as well as the cheeky encore, where the company dons neon-green versions of the Statue of Liberty's sun-ray crown and high-kicks to "New York, New York", are an excellent reminder of just why the Trocks remain an unalloyed pleasure after all these years.
[Next : 2nd November]