Ballet Nacional de Cuba 'Don Quixote' reviews Valdes in reviews Carreno in reviews recent Ballet Nacional de Cuba reviews more Anjuli Bai reviews

The role of Kitri is rather unique in the pantheon of heroines in classical ballet. She is emotionally full figured. She teases, retreats and advances. She loves, and dislikes. She is jealous and a flirt. She is filially loving but also rebellious and mischievous. Kitri is not easily convinced or made a fool of, she knows what she wants. This story is about her. Then why not "Kitri's Choice" or "Kitri and Basilo" as a more cogent name for this ballet? Perhaps because this is not enough. Kitri is not a misty romantic, she chooses Basilo for good solid reasons: she knows him and loves him. Her head is firmly placed upon her shoulders; she goes where she knows she will be happy.

It is Don Quixote who provides the romance. His starry eyed, almost hallucinatory imaginings remind us that dreams are part of life, too. Not solid, not reasonable, but nevertheless lending soul to life's hopes. The Don's barely understood emotional meandering is the counterpoise and counterpoint to Kitri's rational love for Basilo. It makes sense that this young woman would choose an interesting, fun, young man. But Don Quixote says it's about more than just making sense, it's about romance. His imprimatur tells us there is no such thing as an ordinary love in an ordinary village.

The prologue introduced us to the daydreaming world of Don Quixote (Octavio Martin) and the much more sensible Sancho Panza (Javier Sanchez), who decides to accompany his knight as much to protect him as anything else. Sanchez brought thought and care to his role. The prologue didn't make the mistake of being over long or over wrought.

Salvatore Fernandez's village set had little detail and a general lack of color, made up of various shades of brown and tan. An exception was the rather surrealistic backdrop of swirls that changed color to match the mood. Throughout the ballet Fernandez's costumes were mostly pastels and white except for red trim, red matador capes and Kitri's red skirts. They were graceful to watch in movement, though I wished for stronger color.

The ballerina who essays this role must establish herself from the first moment of her entrance: confident, full fleshed, not a moment of timidity. Viengsay Valdes' Kitri soared onto the stage and into her bravura dance full of eclat, but she didn't throw it away. It wasn't hesitancy; it was more a testing of the space around her. She wasn't entirely committed. This changed, however, as her fully extended series of temps de fléche were perfectly punctuated by the clapping a la flamenco of the corps. It seemed to ignite her. Kitri was exasperated with her father and his marital plans for her, rather than simply strong willed in her refusal. I think Valdes may garner more sympathy by re-thinking this view of the role.

Joel Carreno as Basil mostly excelled as a partner - he was flawless in this capacity. Especially notable was the perfection of his support of her pirouettes. One couldn't tell when she had stopped rotating on her own and when his support began; there was no grappling around the waist. Their partnership was effortless, and Carreno looked at his best when dancing with her. A series of over the head off center one-handed lifts were extended beyond the music. The orchestra fell silent and he slowly walked forward to the edge of the stage, and still they held that lift - high and steady.

Martin's Don Quixote was sometimes doddering and sometimes balletic; a bit too balletic in his pas with Kitri. The dance of the bullfighters presented a stage full of marvelous male dancers. Here is talent in depth that any company would prize. Huge soaring jumps, airy landings, fully stretched feet, with flawless multiple pirouettes everywhere. The red capes against the white clad male dancers were striking as they swirled about, intricately choreographed and perfectly synchronized. As impressive as these men were, even more so was Jaime Diaz as Espada the bullfighter. He struck just the right note of Spanish strut never allowing it to become a caricature. His lover, Mercedes, danced by Hayna Gutierrez, is a sprightly dancer who would have benefited from a brighter costume. She has a tendency to over prepare for turn sequences, a bit of preliminary chatter in her feet, but overall a pleasure to watch.

Act II was danced before a simple but properly dreamy set of draperies. Idania La Villa as Love is a tiny dancer, light and fleet, executing completely weightless hops sur a pointe en diagonale. However, in a series of relevés sur la pointe to arabesque she has an unfortunate jerk to her chin as she hits her balance. This was present but a bit less noticeable in Sadaise Arencibia's Queen of the Dryads. Arencibia is a long legged, long lined dancer, presenting a good contrast to the diminutive Love, having a queen's royal air without being cold. There was not one 90-degree arabesque, all were stretched beyond. Is the 90-degree arabesque history? I believe this perfectly proportioned triangle deserves to live, not die a victim to extension beyond proportion. But, I admit I am losing this battle to the times.

The star of Act II without doubt was Kitri. In a company of lovely arms, Valdes' arms were surpassingly lovelier. Not a moment of tension in shoulder, elbow, fingers or upper body. She flowed, legato to legato, attenuating each phrase in her port de bras. She capped this off by a series of slowly spiraling attitude turns, allowing us to see the full beauty of line and movement. And, it was gaspingly beautiful; the indelible art of the seemingly simple.

Mime in the character roles was clear and brought response from the audience. However, Felix Rodriguez as Kitri's father, needs to take his portrayal of the role beyond a shambling walk and hunched shoulders. The company members were active and effective in giving life to the scene in Act III. The corps de ballet exhibited a truly Balanchinesque speed in petit allegro, crisp and clean throughout, crowned by soft arms, a credit to beautiful schooling. Also of note: never once did one hear a pointe shoe contact the stage, even when the stage was filled with female dancers landing grand jetés. Other companies would do well to learn the secret.

The grand pas de deux was danced in white with red trim and while Kitri's costume was beautiful the stiff tutu lacked grace. Again Carreno looked best when dancing with his partner; they were truly a compliment to one another, physically perfect. Twice she ran toward him, jumped, turned sharply in the air and landed in a waist high lift in his arms without a visible effect as her full weight impacted against his body. It brought delighted applause. But her balances brought the audience to its feet. Repeatedly. While her balances were not immediate, they were extended. Extended beyond belief, beyond the music. The orchestra stopped, and she continued to stay on pointe; sometimes moving from retiré into a la seconde, sometimes from retiré into arabesque. Slowly. On pointe. Unsupported. In silence.

In my 38 years of observing, teaching and dancing I have never seen this kind of balance, certainly not in performance. But I wonder at what point does this pass the line from art to trick? Perhaps within the context of a wedding celebration, that demarcation is not as important as it might otherwise be. The audience remained standing and applauding into the final tableau and company bows. Then the curtain closed, and when it reopened Prima Ballerina/Artistic Director/Founder Alicia Alonso was standing between the two principals. The audience roared in response. Her age is obviously upon her, she needed the physical support of her dancers, but her smile was broad. She understood the ovation was for her. I must admit it brought tears to my eyes. She has created a jewel of a company.

The San Diego Symphony with Giovanni Duarte sensitively conducting the Minkus music did credit to itself.