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Royal BalletJanuary 2002 London, Covent Garden by Lynette Halewood |
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Perhaps first nights at Covent Garden are to be avoided these days. The company’s nervousness and general air of uncertainty rendered the production of Don Q on the first night of the season a rather tense and dull affair which failed to communicate much sense of fun. Some similar cloud seemed to hang over the first mixed bill of the season. The company turned in dutiful performances in the two new works they were showing, but seemed lacking in sparkle and fizz. It was a curiously anonymous showing, lacking in personality – there was little that said ‘Royal Ballet’ about it, they could have been any ballet company, anywhere. Perhaps they just need more time to get these works under their skin. There was a full house though, keen to see Guillem in her first appearance here this season in the evening’s closing work. The evening also offered the chance to see Darcey Bussell in a new role. This was in the opening work, Beyond Bach, by Stephen Baynes (1995) which Ross Stretton has brought from the Australian Ballet. This is a handsomely designed production in a great cathedral-like space with huge pillars and candelabra, using up the full extent of the Covent Garden stage. Two lead couples (Bussell with Cope: Nunez with Urlezaga) are supported by twelve couples (sadly uncredited in the cast sheet although there were some very familiar and senior faces among them) in a cool, restrained, plotless work which uses classical steps to echo the formality of Bach’s musical structures. Intermittently dancers in formal Eighteenth century costume process across the back of the stage (where incidentally, they cannot be seen by most of the audience sitting along the sides of the theatre – such are the perils of staging a work created elsewhere for Covent Garden’s very limited sight lines). Sadly, for fans of Darcey, the role did not seem to offer her much to get her teeth into, and she remained a muted presence. Cope had a short solo in which he made some impact, but most of the dancing was joyless. There were some attractive sections were the two lead women were each partnered by two men, but the choreography, although it looked carefully crafted, wasn’t involving. Perhaps I’m being harsh here, but my mind is still full of Hampson’s Double Concerto after seeing it a couple of weeks ago – a complex and intricate work fully inhabited by the company it was made for. By comparison, the Royal looked like they were trying on someone else’s clothes without enthusiasm. Let’s hope this is just a case of first night nerves dulling the impact of the work, because we will be seeing a lot of it. It is scheduled for another ten performances. The work received a polite rather than ecstatic response from the audience. The second work was The Leaves are Fading, made by Antony Tudor in 1975. Last season saw a couple of Tudor revivals for the Royal, such as Shadowplay, which didn’t quite seem to come off. The Leaves are Fading is an interesting acquisition, and it ought to fit in with the Royal’s particular skills in portraying finely shaded and differentiated states of emotions. On this showing, they haven’t got there yet, but they are on the way. There are four pas de deux which may or may not be one woman’s memories of various encounters, with a supporting cast. Irritatingly, the cast list gives a general list of names but doesn’t indicate who partners whom. I think we had Galeazzi with Persson, followed by Benjamin and Coppen. The third couple were Rojo and Harvey, and the last couple Cojocaru and Kobborg. Although the dancing of Cojocaru and Kobborg was delightful, I enjoyed the second couple most –they exuded a sense of connection and commitment which was rather lacking in a generally careful and cautious rather than rhapsodic performance. This may be a problem of distance - I suspect this work reads better close up from the stalls and stalls circle than it does upstairs.
No problem with the ability of the final work to carry, however. Guillem and Le Riche continue to work on deepening an refining their roles as Marguerite and Armand. On seeing this again, I’m more struck than ever by Ashton’s ability to cut to the essence and discard anything unnecessary. All you need to know about Armand’s farther is conveyed by David Drew’s self important walk and the way he stands and holds his stick and gazes imperiously at Guillem in the garden scene. Ashton’s use of the music, and how it naturally seems to contain Marguerite’s consumptive cough and a brooding sense of dread, is remarkable. And as for Guillem and Le Riche they brought a red blooded passion and ecstasy to an otherwise rather pale evening, and received a suitably passionate response from the audience.
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