Capitole de Toulouse, 27/12/2023

Feux d'Artifice

Lalo : Suite en blanc (chor. Lira)

Mozart : Sechs Tänze (chor. Kylián)

Chopin : The Concert (chor. Robbins)

Artists of the Ballet de l'Opéra National du Capitole

Orchestre national du Capitole

Philippe Béran

The big selling point of this unusual triple-bill, for me, was the Suite en blanc, choreographed by Serge Lifar in 1943.  I have always known Lifar as a tremendously important figure in ballet, and particularly in French ballet, but I have never seen any of his choreography, and this was a chance to rectify that situation.  The Suite en blanc (sometimes also known as Noir et Blanc) was created for the Paris Opera Ballet in 1943, and Lifar described it as his neo-classical ballet.  He meant in terms of choreography, because for music, he used Lalo's Namouna ballet score, which is anything but neo-classical in the accepted musical sense of the term.  Choreographically, however, it's an apt description for this completely abstract suite of numbers, delightfully leavened with sly humour.  More to the point, though, it's an utterly textbook demonstration of the Paris Opera Ballet style, fluid and elegant, with open arms and precision matched with delicacy, which makes it clear just how significant Lifar was in the development of that company.  I think pretty much the whole company was required for this piece, with over a dozen solo spots, and a corps of twenty, and it was delivered with style and poise.  The panache, that came from the orchestra, revelling in Lalo's lush, colourful score.

Jiří Kylián created Sachs Tänze (Six Dances) - to give it its full title - in 1986 for NDT1, using Mozart's Six German Dances K. 571 as the score.  It'a a very quirky piece, the dancers frankly look like the morning after an extremely rowdy night before, and it's doubtful whether they're actually yet awake properly.  Clad in (18th-century) undies, dishevelled, perruques and make-up somewhat smeared, the dances are a distorted echo of the court dances these characters might have performed before things got out of hand, while two black, paniered, court dresses wander in and out of frame like a pair of disapproving duennas.  And, yes, I do mean the dresses, because it's the costume that has the character, not the dancer moving it around.  

Finally, to end this delightfully humorous programme, Jerome Robbins's The Concert, widely recognised as a 20th Century masterpiece.  Humour in ballet can be a difficult thing - all of tonight's ballets demonstrated it in varying degrees - but Robbins's unabashedly comic depiction of a concert audience's private, internal elucubrations inspired while listening to a Chopin recital is one of the best examples out there.  The thing is that it has to be presented both amusingly and seriously, without hamming it up except when it's clear it's really necessary, and this was handled very well by the company.  The Raindrop Prelude comes as a quietly reflective moment that is strangely touching, the "Mistake" Waltz was well calculated, without over-exaggeration, while Kayo Nakazato was a delightfully ditzy Mad Ballerina.  Company pianist Yannaël Quenel contributed far more than just his pianistic skills, responding vividly to the scenes around him, till he finally snaps and chases after the dancers with a giant butterfly net, which brought the proceedings to a close in a gale of laughter.

[Next : 15th February.  Happy. New Year to everyone]