TripAdvisor - Florence
home | art & architecture | books & cds | dance | destinations
| film | opera
| television | theater | archives
MaggioDanza
Ballet Blanc: Les Sylphides/Ballet Pathetique
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
The
Florentine company, MaggioDanza, offered a double program under the title Ballet Blanc,
alluding to the days of the long white tutu, softer arms and hands, drastic inclination of
the head and light as air bourees--in short, the classical ballerina stereotype. Indeed,
there is something breathtaking about layers and layers of gauze engulfing the
ballerina’s legs as she leaps across the stage and the way the fabric billows and
floats in the air when she spins. The dancers of MaggioDanza embodied this phenomenon in
Giorgio Mancini’s adaptation of Michel Fokine’s Les Sylphides.
In 1907, Fokine’s initial creative seed premiered as a short work
entitled Moonlight Vision performed by Anna Pavlova in St. Petersburg. He later
expanded his concept to Chopania and in 1909
the final product, Les Sylphides, premiered in Paris. Plot is non-existent.
“The poet,” the male danseur, searches for his ideal of Love and Beauty in the
kingdom of the Sylphs (or in his imagination?) guided by the romantic strains of eight
Chopin piano pieces.
Choreographing during a time when the limitations of classical ballet
were being criticized, Fokine reintroduced the Sylph, an ethereal maiden clad in a long
white skirt and tiny wings; a prototype present in Giselle fifty years earlier. Trained
by the Imperial Maryinsky Ballet School of Russia, Fokine is known for branching away from
rigid and flashy technique and for experimenting with the evocation of feelings through
movement alone rather than through plot.
The gem of the afternoon was the pas de deux, danced by Umberto De Luca
and Claire Pascal to Chopin’s “Valse in C sharp minor.” The
“poet” presents his “ideal” in a series of dramatic lifts as she beats
her legs high in the air, perpendicular to the ground. The languid and melancholic nature
of the “Valse” amplify the mysterious mood as she eludes his attempts to capture
her. He holds her wrists as she sautes in arabesque, as if preparing to flee, and she
leads him running in diagonal circles around her, still pinned to his wrists.
The pianist, Francesco Novelli, elongated the tempo to accommodate the
dancers quite often, sometimes compromising the musicality of Chopin’s composition.
For the pas de deux, however, the rubato and lingering at the end of phrases worked very
well. Both dancers and music melded into one, embodying the elusive beauty that is firmly
embedded in dreams and fantasies.
The finale, with soloists and corps soaring to the “Grande Valse
in E flat Major,” returned to the lively and joyous atmosphere of the introductory
work, complete with the fun and pleasure of watching white tutus fly through the air while
the muses smile. The curtain closes on the same pose as the opening, a symmetrical
portrait of classical ballet poses.
The second dance on the program switches sharply from the romantic
maidens of Fokine to a corps of seven bare-chested male dancers clad in ragged strips of
long white tutus. Neither were they light and airy either, celebrating the ethereal
splendor and beauty of classical ballet. Ballet Pathetique, instead,
choreographed by Jorma Uotinen, gave a new perspective to ballet as an art form and more
importantly to those who are the conduits--the dancers.
The work begins with a lone dancer trotting hunched over an empty
silver plate almost using it as a mirror. Slowly, the others cluster together with their
plates in hand and stand rocking back and forth in silence until Tchaikovsky’s Symphony
Pathetique begins. Unlike most ballets, here it does not matter if the corps is in
unison or not because each member is a soloist with his own problems, pains, thoughts and
vulnerability, telling his own story.
Uotinen incorporates the behind-the-scenes as part of the performance.
One minute the dancers are dancing as if in a real performance and the next they are
succumbing to their personal issues. At the end of one movement, they run in a wide circle
giving up their plates for a leg, back or neck injury and then slouch-trot off stage. In
the next movement they run in a circle displaying the various poses of a proud principal
male roll: the carriage of a crown atop his head, arms spread to envelop his beloved, arm
bent clasping his pretend cape. During the more melancholy music they wither to the
ground, but with the return of the musical theme the lights become brighter and they
plaster smiles on their faces with “the show must go on” practically printed on
their foreheads.
Perhaps because there have not been many modern ballets created solely
for male dancers or perhaps because Uotinen intended the reference, the dancers resembled
those of Matthew Bourne’s all male Swan
Lake not only in their costume, the white shreds of bottoms with bare chests or
and darkly painted eyes, baggy and wounded, but also in some of their arm gestures. One
arm bent right angled over the head with the other arm outstretched is one of
Bourne’s classic swan poses. Also, sometimes the dancers bend their wrists into their
arm and form a cone with their fingers as if about to bite. In another instance they mimic
various classical female swan poses. Like a real corps they form a perfect line on
opposite sides of the stage, but instead of changing sides gracefully, they bumper car
each other before falling to the ground. Some do not get up again while the others busy
themselves massaging their feet.
The dancers pause for a moment of anger, pain and prayer before the
grand finale of a diagonal jumping line. Audio-produced applause brings modest smiles to
their faces and a bouquet of flowers to their arms. They curtsey generously parodying the
prima ballerinas and their melodramatic displays of emotion in front of the audience. One
is left on stage holding the silver plate. Then the “blue ballerina,” danced by
Angela Rosselli, appeared dancing over the strewn flowers. Her blue wig, dusty and stiff,
rained white powder as she shook her head in confusion and disbelief. She moved slowly
with contorted and trembling legs as if she were on a tight rope or as if she could not
remember and had to feel her way. She found brief moments of ballet dancing and the other
moments were spent as an insane Giselle or a suicidal Juliet.
The corps of men return in suits with big yellow balloons tied to their
backs which reach high over their heads. They cluster together in silence around the
“blue ballerina” and rock in silence, using their top hats instead of plates
placed over their heart. Yellow balloons, multi-colored flowers, the blue ballerina, black
and white suits, the formally stark stage becomes very surreal and vibrant at the end of
the work as the ballerina reaches out for something and the lights fade. The portrait may
have changed shape and color, but the message remains the same. What began as an illusion
of tired and desperate dancers on the stage became a reality.
October, 2004 – Sheya Meierdierks-Lehman
