![]() |
![]() 26th February 2004 London, Covent Garden by Graham Watts |
||||||||
Perhaps the fates are traditionalists? Maybe the Powers that be are especially fond of the Royal Ballet’s triumphant, signature version of The Sleeping Beauty from the 1940s? If so, this might provide some supernatural explanation for the jinx that hovers over Natalia Makarova’s new Production. The opening of her Sleeping Beauty in March 2003 was beset with initial technical, teething problems and received a mixed, but often hostile, reception from many critics and balletomanes. That opening night saw Darcey Bussell hobble offstage in the Act III Coda to be replaced by Marianella Nuñez, quickly swapping the Lilac Fairy’s gown for Aurora’s tutu. A year later and the opening night of this season’s production came with problems of its own. The performance began several minutes late with the lights finally going down just as the audience began to fidget. This minor irritation was soon obliterated by the magic of a sumptuous Prologue and First Act. We had marveled at Alina, now we wanted Johan but it soon became clear that something was not quite right in the state of the Prince from Denmark. His obvious discomfort was not just an accurate portrayal of Prince Désiré’s vacuous and unfulfilled life but something much more mundane. After an incomplete solo and some unscheduled disappearances off-stage, the curtains came down just prior to the Lilac Fairy’s appearance to the Prince and Monica Mason explained that Johan was injured and would be replaced by Federico Bonelli. It later transpired that Johan had injured his ankle and Bonelli just happened to be at the Opera House and available to step in. 25 minutes later, he was changed and warmed up and we had a new Prince and, more to the point, Alina had a new - and unrehearsed - partner. Despite these problems, I saw enough to re-convince me that Makarova’s Production is a very valuable and interesting extension of the life of The Sleeping Beauty in ballet. More to the point, I think it IS the Sleeping Beauty for our time: it has a foot and both arms firmly rooted in the past, but another foot planted equally firmly in the 21st Century.
There has been little concession to the baying pack’s call to cull the Cupid, although he is less evident in the awakening scene. This is a ballet that has always provided a place on stage for children, a fact that is enhanced in the Makarova version. The Cupid remains a whimsy, an appropriate link between Acts I, II & III and, perhaps above all, a relevant leit motif, providing a unique point of reference for her production.
![]() © John Ross
It isn’t all wonderful. The Panorama is still a mess, with half the action invisible to much of the audience and Aurora’s bed unseen by half the House. Spinatelli’s set designs are actually worse than I remember from last year. I think that it is unfair to judge Alina Cojocaru’s performance in any context other than the First Act, since everything with Bonelli must have been like a live rehearsal for them both. Her entrance as an excited young girl bursting into her 20th birthday party was charming, balanced exquisitely between an innate childishness and a thirst to experience her first taste of adult life. Her solo performance to the assembled guests in the variation towards the end of the Act is a magical blend of strength, vivacity and grace, culminating in a characteristically powerful medley of piqué and chaîné turns. She has completely conquered Giselle but I feel that she has still some way to go before achieving the same command over the sleeping Princess. The weakest part of her performance comes in her relationship with the four suitors and in the delivery of the Rose Adagio and here it might be worth a comparison with Makarova herself. In characterization, Makarova struck an appropriate balance between confidence and fear in her attitude towards the four suitors, whereas Cojocaru’s Aurora appears more coquettishly sure of herself. However, their respective accomplishment of the Adagio reverses these emotions. Where Makarova was always in control and would hold the en attitude balances whilst confidently, yet gently, lowering her arm for support, Alina has not yet overcome the fear which demands that she holds the pose for as long as she can and then hurriedly grabs each suitor’s arm. There is surely more control to come. Federico Bonelli deserves great respect and admiration for stepping in merely because he was staying late at the office. He reminds me of a younger Roberto Bolle: darkly handsome with a commanding stage presence and an impressive virtuoso technique. Ivan Putrov was a majestic Blue Bird, capturing the quintessence of Cecchetti’s role. It was never in any doubt that he could soar in the Blue Bird’s two flights of entrechats, double tours en l’air, brisé volé and temps de poissons steps but he also perfectly captured the Bird’s essential body lines and his arm positions were absolutely perfect. As the Princess learning to fly in this Pas d’Action, Christina Elida Salerno was an excellent match for Putrov, handling her own, cautious challenge to follow the Blue Bird’s flight with suitably delicate aplomb.
Lauren Cuthbertson was a very acceptable Lilac Fairy, dancing with effortless attention to her steps, but somehow lacking the serenity and majesty that I have found in the Lilac Fairies of Nuñez and Yanowsky. The latter gave a typically powerful and menacing performance as Carabosse but I can’t help feeling how awful it is to lose her in this role at this stage of her career, not to mention the irony in the casting of one of the sweetest and most beautiful ballerinas in such an unappealing role!
![]() © John Ross
A final word for one of the youngest performers on the stage. It must be quite hard to be up there knowing that many people want to cull you (was it Clement Crisp who said in this context that Herod had the right idea?) and so well done to James Liley as the first young man to step back into Cupid’s wings.
In his big moment of shushing the audience into the 100-year slumber he suddenly thought that he might be standing too far upstage and that the curtains could close on him so with a hasty look left and right he shuffled back to avoid them, a moment which only added to the audience’s humour. And this was a theme for the evening: no matter what went wrong, it all went right. A great night for everyone, apart from poor Johan and Mara. We hope that it is nothing that a bit of rest and recuperation can’t mend!
|
|||||||||
|
|||||||||
|
|||||||||