Choreography
Alicia Alonso after the original version by Jean Coralli and Jules Perrot
Music
Adolphe Adam
Set Design
Ricardo Reymana
Costumes
Salvador Fernandez
Orchestra
Royal Ballet Sinfonia
Conductor
Giovanni Duarte
Giselle
Viengsay Valdes
Albrecht
Joel Carreno
Myrtha
Luiva Horta
Hilarion
Victor Gili
Moyna
Yolanda Correa
Zulma
Ivis Diaz
Bertha
Ivette Gonzalez
Prince of Courtland
Octavio Martin
Bathilde
Sadaise Arencibia
Wilfred
Romel Frometa
Head of Peasants
Felix Rodriguez
Friends
Ivis Diaz
Jessie Dominguez
Idania La Villa
Betina Ojeda
Aymara Vasallo
Marina Villanueva
Miguelangel Blanco
Elier Bourzac
Javier Torres
Carlos Quenedit
Court, peasants, Wilis, and soldiers
Corps de ballet
|
Giselle
Ballet Nacional de Cuba
Sadler's Wells
18 - 21 August 2005
There is something a little strange about watching Giselle, a ballet epitomising the Northern European Romantic tradition, performed by a South American company. Cultural stereotypes dictate that hot-blooded Cuban esprit must sit uneasily with an emotionally tempered European style of expression. Watching the Ballet Nacional de Cuba perform Giselle is a strange experience then, because far from being an uneasy and ill-fitting match, the marriage of Cuban and European style makes perfect sense but it is hard to say how and why.
Partly the answer lies in the Giselle narrative, and its history in the Ballet Nacional's repertoire. Alicia Alonso, at 83 the driving force of the Ballet Nacional de Cuba, first danced the role of Giselle in 1946 as Principal dancer with American Ballet Theater. Twelve years later she staged her own production in Buenos Aires, followed by another staging, with herself as Giselle, in 1972 at the Opera de Paris. Aged only 25 she returned to Cuba determined to start up a ballet school that could feed into a national company, a vision shared by Fidel Castro who helped establish, officially at least, the Ballet Nacional after the cultural programmes emergent from the 1959 Revolution.
That Alonso's drive and determination succeeded is all the more remarkable given that she lost her eyesight completely in her early twenties. The concomitant impact of blindness on her dancing was to filter into the teaching method used at her ballet school, namely a heightened sense of balance, control and spatial awareness. Her choreographic version of Giselle was the first full-length ballet to benefit from this heightened sense of movement and physical intuition.
The choreography is marked by solid balances, particularly in the fouettés performed by Viengsay Valdes as Giselle. Not only Valdes' balances but those of her partner Joel Carreno (Albrecht), are held for slightly longer than necessary, but deepened to such an extent as to make it worthwhile. Carreno's line was initially slightly heavy but improved by partnering Valdes. This pair work well together and it was unfortunate that not more of the choreography centered on their partnering. Much of the dazzle in the performance came from Valdes' solos, particularly a sustained pirouette down the diagonal length of the stage. Whilst these were vituoso displays of technicality and concentration, they did little to even out the emotional register of the performance as a whole. In that respect, this Giselle seemed to veer from a cold technicality that wanted to prove something, to over-acting typified by Carreno's heaving sobs at Giselle's grave-side. Similarly, when confronted with the over-enthusiastic interpretation of the role of Hilarion, by Victor Gili, it was hard to remain immersed in the narrative.
The overall effect of veering between extremes of technicality and interpretation was one of contradiction. At points the company's desire to prove its ability and sound classical technique was uppermost. At other points the ballet was owned so much by the entire company that it seemed there had never had been a moment of doubt regarding its suitability for Giselle, as if the application of the Giselle narrative to Cuban culture made perfect sense. Indeed, this is the most credible Giselle yet, no mean feat when one considers all the improbable elements in the narrative; that a robust peasant girl can die suddenly from the shock of a broken-heart; that ghosts of betrayed women, the Wilis, live in a nearby forest and exact revenge of men by dancing them to death. It has always been hard to suspend disbelief for this particular ballet, but Ballet Nacional de Cuba assumed the earthy peasant culture of Act One, with its roots that tap into a culture of myth and legend, as if there were no question. This was mainly due to a strong performance by Ivette Gonzalez, as Bertha, Giselle's mother, who related the concept of the Wilis with such vividness through movement alone.
The strongest performance was given by Luiva Horta as Myrtha, Queen of the Wilis. Her technique was at once strong and light, so fitting in such a contradictory ballet, and convinced utterly of supernatural abilities. She had a waxen pallor and sadness in her opening solo, but revealed the emotional void and hollow determination to revenge at the core of Wili motivation.
The centre of Giselle has always been the white act, and as such there has been a tendency in productions to focus all on conveying the Romantic elements of choreography. This production assumed that historical elements in the choreography were there for all to see and focussed instead on the making the Wilis genuinely terrifying, rather than romantic young women moving delicately in white tulle. Bent double, arms shielding their faces with elbows raised, Alonso's Wilis were soulless beings. It was here that Alonso's teaching methods came to the fore. Her stamp is clear in the kind of harmony and unison of movement that could only come when the corps is thinking as one body, sharing the same impulse from within rather than relying on eyesight for cues. The corps' shared timing was simply breathtaking.
The main hallmark of this production is an instinct for assumption, meaning that Alonso assumes there are choreographic elements that make Giselle what it is, but recognises the elements which she can make her own. If Alonso's spirit is stamped upon her company, there is the sense when watching this ballet that Alonso owns it spiritually. It is a mix of strange elements that, put together, form a beautiful and fitting artistic whole - a strong legacy for the dance world.
Laura Keynes
|
