I'm going tonight. What did you think of the half you could see?

Come on. everyone-who-was-there, post! Those of us who aren't going until the last night are trying to live vicariously through you!

Grigorovich's choreography took some time to get used to. I did see his earlier production of Swan Lake when the Bolshoi toured London in 1989, but I don't remember much from that production except Nina Ananiashvili's great performance. I still prefer the national dances to be danced in character shoes instead of on pointe in this Grigorovich production. And I am not particularly impressed by Grigorovich's choreography for the two women in the Act 1 pas de trois.

Kevin, I can't agree more.

‘Swan Lake’

The Royal Opera House-
21 July 2004

The most famous of all ballets was created at the Bolshoi in February 1877, since when the Company has learned to perform at least ten further versions of ‘Swan Lake’. This symmetrical version has the action packaged into two Acts of almost equal duration, at around an hour apiece, each comprising two scenes juxtaposing Siegfried’s real world with its fantasy alter-ego. It is much less a fairy tale, much more a gothic novella.

I was very unsure about this production when I saw it for the first time, almost exactly two years ago (it has now been in the Bolshoi’s repertoire since March 2001), but on reflection after last night’s performance, it is the first variation of ‘Swan Lake’ that I have seen which attempts to establish something radically different whilst still retaining every key tradition. However many times one may have seen ‘Swan Lake’, this Grigorovich production will pose new questions and allow the ballet to be seen through a different lens.

There are, nevertheless, a few aspects of the production which are puzzling. In particular, the narrative suffers in this reworking and it is not clear, when approached with an open mind, what is happening in the transition between reality and the fantasy that represents the interior landscape of Siegfried’s soul. This is compounded by a lack of clarity in the set designs. True, the transitions between scenes (in both Acts) are seamless, but it isn’t at all clear that Siegfried’s interior landscape contains a lake, which I would have thought is fairly central to the illusion.

The ending, although thankfully gothic rather than fairy tale, was unnecessarily anti-climactic: the Evil Genius (usually known as Rothbart, but not here) summons up a storm which plays havoc with the lovers’ attempt at re-union but, apart from Tchaikovsky’s crescendos, how was the storm represented? The Evil Genius hoists Odette above his head behind a screen, places her on the ground and she fades away. A wonderful moment at which the curtains should close but the ballet continues for a further while of the Prince’s agonies, the moment is lost and it eventually ends much less effectively than might otherwise have been achieved.

Svetlana Zakharova was absolutely wonderful in both halves of the Odette/Odile role: she was world-class, platinum standard, encrusted with precious gems: a new black pearl of Russian ballet, without doubt. If one freeze-framed every millisecond of this performance, her line would never have been anything other than perfect. It seems invidious to single any element out for special praise but the Black Swan pas de deux was utterly enchanting. Often, one can only feel what an idiot Siegfried is to have fallen for the deception – definitely not here, this was an Odile to be believed in every way. The essential differences between Odette and Odile are emphasised by every ballerina but I have rarely seen so much distance put between the two: a programme-less, first-timer could easily be forgiven for believing that the two characters were danced by different ballerinas.

As Siegfried, Andrei Uvarov exemplified the effortless clarity of the Bolshoi’s style with each step or jump performed easily, with absolute confidence and precision. He exuded a princely demeanour which suited him more in the front-end, castle scenes of both Acts but did not give sufficient differentiation to convince us that we were entering the mysterious landscape of his mind in the second scenes. It needed a different style of performance to move the narrative on into this darker world but that was not evident. Some might say that the Evil Genius does this for him, but where he leads, Siegfried must follow, and whilst Uvarov is physically lured into the evil one’s trap, he never convinces that this is the turmoil of his own mind, rather than the fairy tale fantasy which we all know and love. It needed a more dramatic transition in the character, which never came.

The Evil Genius in Grigorovich’s production is a serious dancing role, much more than the usual character fare reserved for Rothbart, and Dmitri Belogolovtsev drew some very well-deserved cheers for a darkly virtuoso performance. Once again, as in ‘Don Quixote’ from earlier in the week, the solo roles were danced strongly. In particular, Maria Alexandrova and Maria Allash (standing in at the last moment for Irina Semirechenskaya and Nina Kaptsova) were delightfully and stylishly synchronised as the Prince’s Friends.

The Five national dances for the prospective brides were also performed very strongly (bar one unfortunate unbalanced ending) by Allash (Hungarian), Olga Suvorova (Russian), Alexandrova (Spanish), Anastasia Yatsenko (Neapolitan) and Ekaterina Shipulina (Polish) – each time I relive them, I imagine a different one to have been best of all which makes comparisons entirely, and appropriately, irrelevant! Especially memorable was the obvious heart-rending despair of each Princess at their collective rejection by Siegfried – so often in other productions, having put their heart and soul into a dance to win his proposal, they just shrug their shoulders and walk away!

The final word has to be for the 31 other swans on show. The corps was magnificent, displaying a standard of harmony and perfect line throughout the ballet which was utterly memorable. I doubt if I have ever seen the cygnet dance performed with a more perfect, synchronised precison: in fact, I doubt that this could be possible. The four dancers were Ksenia Tsareva, Daria Gurevich and two more Svetlanas, Gnedova and Pavlova.

For obvious commercial reasons, ‘Swan Lake’ gets two sets of four performances in this season: from tonight (23 July) through to a matinee and evening performance tomorrow (24 July) and again from 2 to 4 August (with two performances on the last day). I heard a man at ‘Don Quixote’ say that there was nothing left for him to get from ‘Swan Lake’ and he had “closed the book on it”: I can see how one might feel like this with the saturation of swans in modern-day ballet BUT, however bored you might be, there will be something in this ‘Swan Lake’ that will make you think again.

Graham Watts

<<Especially memorable was the obvious heart-rending despair of each Princess at their collective rejection by Siegfried – so often in other productions, having put their heart and soul into a dance to win his proposal, they just shrug their shoulders and walk away!>>

This is so very true! In other productions when these princesses simply walked away it always struck me as "something is wrong with this" but I never could quite put my finger on it. But, you just did. Of course - they should look and act terribly disappointed!

<<Often, one can only feel what an idiot Siegfried is to have fallen for the deception – definitely not here, this was an Odile to be believed in every way. The essential differences between Odette and Odile are emphasised by every ballerina but I have rarely seen so much distance put between the two: a programme-less, first-timer could easily be forgiven for believing that the two characters were danced by different ballerinas.>>

This is the problem isn't it? Odile must fool the Prince into believing she is the "same" as Odette, and yet the ballet asks the ballerina to present herself as "different" from Odette. What do you think Zakharova did to put "so much distance between the two" and yet believable in "every way" to fool Siegfried?

One wonders why Odile has to be different at all when the object is to be the same?

<<I heard a man at ‘Don Quixote’ say that there was nothing left for him to get from ‘Swan Lake’ and he had “closed the book on it”>>

Obviously that's his loss!

Once again, thank you Graham!

Covent Garden was packed with a rather more glamorous crowd than usual for the opening night of the Bolshoi’s Swan Lake. This production is by Grigorovitch, and is not, so I was told, the same version as they brought here on their last visit to Covent Garden in the late 90s. It is described in the text of the programme as first produced in the 1969/70 season, and occasionally slightly revised, and in the cast list as having its premiere on 2 March 2001 at the Bolshoi. Whatever the precise production details, this is a majestic, massive production, the stage packed with dancers, with soloist after soloist displaying impeccable technique in the grand court scenes. The full might of the company’s strength is brought to bear. However, the story itself at times almost seems lost in the process: stripped of all mime passages and explanation, it is not easy to follow, and for all its grandeur it is curiously uninvolving.

Not that this will prevent it selling tickets by the bucket load: the appeal of Swan Lake endures. Does such a thing as the ideal Swan Lake exist ? Paradoxically, the very success of Swan Lake, its eternal allure as the epitome of a certain ideal of ballet, is undercut and yet reinforced by many of the productions we see. Somewhere, as out of reach and as exquisite as Odette, the perfect Swan Lake must exist. A production of purity and elegance, without vulgarity, with a noble prince, a doomed love. But we never reach it: each production always has its flaws or jarring moments so that the smooth water of the lake is rippled and we cannot see through its surface clearly to the crystal purity of the underlying vision. But the attraction remains.

Of course we all have differing views about what that eternal, ideal Swan Lake might contain: whether it would be a jester free zone, for instance. But all our views still hark back to some sensed, impossible original, some poetic icon – something more elusive than the actual literal notated text of the original steps perhaps, a sense of moonlight, tragedy and yearning. It’s always easy to wish that a production would be just a little bit different, to adjust some detail or other but the more adjustments that take place, sometimes the more blurred the picture becomes.

What this production gives us is a polished display of wonderful classical ballet. In the lakeside scenes where the corps of swans dance as if it’s a statement of faith in the art form. In the ballroom scene in Act 3, the luxury of the Bolshoi’s casting in apparent in the five different princesses who appear, all delivering their solos with authority and grand style (just the one slip from the Spanish princess at the end of her solo). It is all very splendid, but somewhere in here should be an immortal love story as well as the splendid display.

Uvarov is a noble Siegfried, elegant, poised, with a pleasingly unhurried air, always with time to get round the most difficult steps. He is a very attentive and considerate partner, and in the first act has two lady friends (again, strongly cast, Maria Allash and Maria Alexandrova, who returned as some of the princesses in Act 3) for a pas de trois. There is little hint of the melancholy or longing that one sees sometimes in other Siegfrieds early in the ballet in this version: it all seems a happy occasion. Siegfried does not chose to go hunting: the Rothbart figure, here named the Evil Genius (Belogolovtsev), lures him away from the court to the lakeside. The lakeside setting looks curiously dull compared to the sumptuous sets for the court and it must be the only lake in history to be lit by the same chandeliers hanging from the sky as were at the court – seriously distracting. The Evil Genius is an all powerful figure. Siegfried is doomed before he starts: no question of free will here or making a choice. Grigorovitch’s Siegfried is just a pawn. His first encounter with Odette is oddly undramatic: it takes a while until the great pas de deux for any sort of chemistry with Zakharova to become apparent.

Zakharova’s long limbs are displayed to great effect, slowly, slowly unfurling. Her Odette begins as distant, unengaged, and only slowly melts. Technically, she is very strong and secure dancer, but her Odette was polished and beautifully displayed rather than vulnerable or yearning. The pas de deux in Act 2 with Uvarov was very beautifully danced, but it was oddly difficult to care about the fate of these two lovers or be quite convinced by the reality of their passion.

Act 3 takes us back to the palace. Here the character dances are each allotted to a different princess who has arrived as a candidate for Siegfried’s wife (a detail which you could easily miss – plot details are only very lightly sketched). Sir Peter Wright used this approach in his 1981 version of Swan Lake (though BRB does not run to quite so many princesses). Here I particularly enjoyed the Russian Princess, in a very delicate display – no big steps, no big jumps, but very precisely and cleanly executed. The arrival of the Evil Genius and Odile is grandly announced, though the presence of a group of black swans with them is rather disconcerting.

Zakharova still maintained a kind of detachment as Odile. She looked coy rather than glamorous in her moments of flirting, but while her mind was on her dancing she looked curiously businesslike, as if she was doing some rather mundane domestic chore like unblocking a sink and was keen to get it over quickly. She despatched all her big moments with quite frightening ease, and the audience lapped it up. Dramatically, the moment where Siegfried promises to marry her fell rather flat on the London stage. The pleading Odette was barely visible at all in the background, and there was little by way of gesture of triumph – Odile just disappeared.

Grigorovitch’s ending to the ballet also falls curiously flat. Siegfried returns to the lakeside where Odette is already failing, and doomed to die. The Evil Genius separates them: she dies, he survives. No apotheosis, with its lovely music. Curiously unmoving. I don’t think I have ever sat though the end of Swan Lake dry eyed before. Despite the delightful dancing from the corps, I felt oddly cheated.

If you want a big, expansively danced production of Swan Lake, with consistently high standards of dancing, then this is for you. If you are fond of winsome jesters, then Gennadi Yanin almost burns a hole in the floor with the speed of his pirouettes. But if you want your heart to be wrung, then I’m not sure this is the one.

Thank you for the review!
But I think this phrase of yours demands to be clarified:
>
>The most famous of all ballets was created at the Bolshoi in
>February 1877, since when the Company has learned to perform
>at least ten further versions of ‘Swan Lake’.

A ballet consists of music, choreography, sets, costumes.
The Swan Lake as we know it (any standard version) has NOT been created at the Bolshoi! It was created by Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky and a ballet about swans for this music was created in the Bolshoi. That one was a complete fiasco (all know this, of course). What were the reasons for it? There have been many different opinions. Another story...

But that Swan Lake that all of us know and many of us like (with white scenes, famous 2nd scene of the 1st Act, Odette/Odile) was created for the Mariinsky, by Ivanov and Petipa and with the music subsequently reorchestrated by Riccardo Drigo (including piano pieces of op.72, by Tchaikovsky: L'espiegle, Valse bluhette, Un poco di Chopin). It is a 100% Mariinsky ballet!

All versions that Bolshoi "learned to perform" come from those Mariinsky versions (Petipa-Ivanov, Vaganova, Sergueev). That includes a world-famous position of arms of swans as changed by Vaganova (one arm stretched up, another stretched down with palms turned outside).

Again, I am happy for any feedback but I do think that this is taking knit-picking to an unnecessary level.

I said that 'Swan Lake' - the most famous of all ballets - was created for the Bolshoi in February 1877. I assumed that it would be fairly obvious from the words that went before that I was refering to the BALLET and not Tchaikovsky's music in isolation.

My point is simply that the very first performance of a ballet with something like this libretto, to this music, was performed on the Bolshoi's stage in Moscow. What happened afterwards is entirely irrelevant to this point.

I don't have it with me but I am fairly certain that the programme for this Bolshoi season also underlines the point that 'Swan Lake' was born at the Bolshoi.

So much was created for the Mariinsky that I would have thought it is acceptable to allow the Bolshoi to retain their few claims to key elements of Russian ballet heritage!

Graham

Was the first performance of a ballet called 'Swan Lake' to music by Tchaikovsky at the Bolshoi, or not?

There is only one answer to that question.

If I was born in Russia, but taken to the UK when I was one day old, would I still be entitled to say that I was born in Russia. I think I would be.

Graham

Ekaterina Shipulina as Odette

John Ross Bolshoi Swan Lake gallery

© John Ross

The line-up of head and foot - both the one in attitude behind her and the one she is standing on - is wonderful.

The whole thing is just about perfect.