Royal Ballet (live broadcast), 16/1/2020
Tchaikovsky : The Sleeping Beauty
The Royal Ballet
Orchestra of the Royal Opera House
Simon Hewett
I mentioned legacy productions in my last Royal Ballet review in December; their Sleeping Beauty is another such, a reproduction of the 1946 production that re-opened the Royal Opera House after the war, and saw the Vic-Wells Ballet become the Royal Ballet. The choreography is mostly Petipa, based on Sergeyev's work, since he was ballet master at the Vic-Wells until 1942, but there are additions by Ashton, Anthony Dowell and most recently Christopher Wheeldon. However, the most striking aspect of the production is the splendid design, sets and costumes, by artist and designer Oliver Messel. There's no denying the pleasure to be had in viewing this grandest of fairy-tale ballets sumptuously dressed, it cries out for that kind of lavish treatment, and the interesting thing about it is that Messel achieved his original effects with minimal resources. Given the period, that Britain was just emerging from the war and life was still difficult, to say the least, much of his design, particularly in the costumes, was illusory. In fact, it's quite likely that the costumes the present company is wearing are a good deal more elaborate than the originals, since they don't need to 'cheat' with things like pipe cleaners and paper doilies any more. It's no more extravagant than Philip Prowse's gorgeous designs for the Birmingham Royal Ballet's version - if anything, those are even more spectacular - but in an age when few companies can really afford to indulge in luxurious design, it's a real treat for the eyes.
This is a reasonably complete version of Beauty. There are a few cuts, but fairly standard ones, notably in the last act and at the start of the second act, and Ashton took the Sarabande from Act 3 to give the Prince a melancholy solo in Act 2, but there's nothing that jars musically. Dramatically, the one problem I have with this version is the end of Act 2. After the Panorama, the final scenes of the act are particularly beautifully written, mysterious, magical music working up to a breathless climax before a triumphant conclusion. It speaks of the thorn forest, and arcane creatures, a challenge and a conflict, and we get almost none of that in this version. The Lilac Fairy leads the Prince by the hand (figuratively) all the way from the Vision sequence right up to the kiss. She's the one that bests Carabosse, he just ambles through the greenery in wide-eyed bemusement. It's not ideal, and it certainly doesn't live up to one of Tchaikovsky's most inspired passages, which is saying something in a score that offers page after page of glorious music.
That aside, it's a fine production, and challenging for the company, as the choreography, particularly in the Prologue, can be rather pitiless in that the least deviation sticks out like a sore thumb. In consequence, some of the Prologue did look a little rough. There was one of the Cavaliers who worried me quite a bit, notably, and Gina Storm-Jensen, replacing Fumi Kaneko as the Lilac Fairy, made an uneven first impression, as she fell out of a pirouette prematurely during her Variation. As the Prologue is almost the only serious dancing the Lilac Fairy gets to do, it's a pity if she doesn't get it absolutely right. However, elsewhere, the company performed well, true to the house style and delivered with conviction. Of the plethora of solo roles, I was particularly drawn to Anna Rose O'Sullivan as the Fairy of the Song Bird (traditionally known as Canari-qui-chante) in the Prologue, and also in the Act 3 Pas de trois, but Kristen McNally turned in a scenery-chewing, scene-stealing performance as Carabosse, while Yasmine Naghdi and Matthew Ball were a delightful Bluebird couple.
Kaneko was not dancing the Lilac Fairy because she had had to step in for an indisposed Lauren Cuthbertson as Princess Aurora. I've not seen much of Fumi Kaneko before, though I knew the name, and she made an excellent impression as Aurora. Her dancing looked effortlessly graceful, and above all musical to a degree I've rarely seen, every movement of foot or hand perfectly synchronised with the music. She was elegantly partnered by the handsome Prince of Federico Bonelli, who is a dancer I enjoy very much and is, to be honest, a little wasted in this role, as is any good danseur noble. However, you really can't afford not to put up a good male principal, so we got to enjoy Bonelli's assured and polished performance as much as his role permitted.
Had the orchestra been a little more inspired in its playing, we might have had a truly memorable show, but Simon Hewett's conducting, while sensitive to the dancers' requirements, did not stir the ROH orchestra to the heights it is quite capable of achieving, but merely delivered competency without that additional fire of imagination. Nevertheless, this was a visual feast, and a fine evening's entertainment.
[Next : 31st January]
The Royal Ballet
Orchestra of the Royal Opera House
Simon Hewett
I mentioned legacy productions in my last Royal Ballet review in December; their Sleeping Beauty is another such, a reproduction of the 1946 production that re-opened the Royal Opera House after the war, and saw the Vic-Wells Ballet become the Royal Ballet. The choreography is mostly Petipa, based on Sergeyev's work, since he was ballet master at the Vic-Wells until 1942, but there are additions by Ashton, Anthony Dowell and most recently Christopher Wheeldon. However, the most striking aspect of the production is the splendid design, sets and costumes, by artist and designer Oliver Messel. There's no denying the pleasure to be had in viewing this grandest of fairy-tale ballets sumptuously dressed, it cries out for that kind of lavish treatment, and the interesting thing about it is that Messel achieved his original effects with minimal resources. Given the period, that Britain was just emerging from the war and life was still difficult, to say the least, much of his design, particularly in the costumes, was illusory. In fact, it's quite likely that the costumes the present company is wearing are a good deal more elaborate than the originals, since they don't need to 'cheat' with things like pipe cleaners and paper doilies any more. It's no more extravagant than Philip Prowse's gorgeous designs for the Birmingham Royal Ballet's version - if anything, those are even more spectacular - but in an age when few companies can really afford to indulge in luxurious design, it's a real treat for the eyes.
This is a reasonably complete version of Beauty. There are a few cuts, but fairly standard ones, notably in the last act and at the start of the second act, and Ashton took the Sarabande from Act 3 to give the Prince a melancholy solo in Act 2, but there's nothing that jars musically. Dramatically, the one problem I have with this version is the end of Act 2. After the Panorama, the final scenes of the act are particularly beautifully written, mysterious, magical music working up to a breathless climax before a triumphant conclusion. It speaks of the thorn forest, and arcane creatures, a challenge and a conflict, and we get almost none of that in this version. The Lilac Fairy leads the Prince by the hand (figuratively) all the way from the Vision sequence right up to the kiss. She's the one that bests Carabosse, he just ambles through the greenery in wide-eyed bemusement. It's not ideal, and it certainly doesn't live up to one of Tchaikovsky's most inspired passages, which is saying something in a score that offers page after page of glorious music.
That aside, it's a fine production, and challenging for the company, as the choreography, particularly in the Prologue, can be rather pitiless in that the least deviation sticks out like a sore thumb. In consequence, some of the Prologue did look a little rough. There was one of the Cavaliers who worried me quite a bit, notably, and Gina Storm-Jensen, replacing Fumi Kaneko as the Lilac Fairy, made an uneven first impression, as she fell out of a pirouette prematurely during her Variation. As the Prologue is almost the only serious dancing the Lilac Fairy gets to do, it's a pity if she doesn't get it absolutely right. However, elsewhere, the company performed well, true to the house style and delivered with conviction. Of the plethora of solo roles, I was particularly drawn to Anna Rose O'Sullivan as the Fairy of the Song Bird (traditionally known as Canari-qui-chante) in the Prologue, and also in the Act 3 Pas de trois, but Kristen McNally turned in a scenery-chewing, scene-stealing performance as Carabosse, while Yasmine Naghdi and Matthew Ball were a delightful Bluebird couple.
Kaneko was not dancing the Lilac Fairy because she had had to step in for an indisposed Lauren Cuthbertson as Princess Aurora. I've not seen much of Fumi Kaneko before, though I knew the name, and she made an excellent impression as Aurora. Her dancing looked effortlessly graceful, and above all musical to a degree I've rarely seen, every movement of foot or hand perfectly synchronised with the music. She was elegantly partnered by the handsome Prince of Federico Bonelli, who is a dancer I enjoy very much and is, to be honest, a little wasted in this role, as is any good danseur noble. However, you really can't afford not to put up a good male principal, so we got to enjoy Bonelli's assured and polished performance as much as his role permitted.
Had the orchestra been a little more inspired in its playing, we might have had a truly memorable show, but Simon Hewett's conducting, while sensitive to the dancers' requirements, did not stir the ROH orchestra to the heights it is quite capable of achieving, but merely delivered competency without that additional fire of imagination. Nevertheless, this was a visual feast, and a fine evening's entertainment.
[Next : 31st January]