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Kirov BalletOctober 2005 Berkeley, Zellerbach Hall by Renee Renouf |
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Full roduction details and casting are at the bottom of this review As suspected, the size of Zellerbach’s stage was difficult for the Kirov dancers, so it is hard to know what may have been rearranged to accommodate company and choreography to the space. I heard reports of distinct problems opening night. Comments about the sound of the shoes opening night were verified October 13 by the corps in the Prologue, some of the Fairies off and on during the three acts, even amongst the principals. It also looked like the ensemble was traveling without a Marley. Aside from unfortunate retarded musical readings of several of the Fairies’ variations in the Prologue and The Bluebird Pas de Deux, the Maryinsky Orchestra commenced with an energetic plunge into the score, morphing into a melodic tone led by the conductor as if he was wooing a woman to which Carlos Carvajal said, “Of course! That’s the story line.” The other major problem was vagueness of the story line, the mime heavily excised, the raison d’etre being clarified only when Desire comes a hunting for his Dawn. A lot of fingers were pointed skyward and elsewhere by the King and Catalabutte, veritable j’accuse or laissez au ciel. Despite these and some costume details, the audience response was fervent, warm; the dancers could not have asked for a better end response: prolonged applause and standing ovations for the principals. It also was great that at the end of each act the major dancers got to take a bow. The practice needs imitating. Carlos Carvajal and I had cut our Beauty teeth on the fall-winter 1950 Sadler’s Wells US National Tour, Carlos subsequently dancing in the Bronislava Nijinska/Robert Helpmann production for the de Cuevas Company when Rudolph Nureyev made his post-defection debut. Oliver Messel’s designs have been rarely bested, Jens Jacob Worsae’s for San Francisco Ballet excepted. It’s obvious no one makes a better tutu than the Maryinsky Theatre costume atelier occupants. The results adorn the dancer’s figure admirably. Trains for the King and Queen, later for Aurora and Desire, are elegant, the former accomplishing the time warp via changes in color and design: very clever. The wigs can go entirely, some, particularly those of the King and the Suitors, are so ornate they verge on comic props. It was fascinating to observe the overall body look of the company; most of the women not only slender, but long to limb, arms and neck; a few had a grand physique and one or two short, thicker torsos. Amongst the men, there seemed a greater variation; in the Birthday act several wielding garlands looked suited to a Taras Bulba production. It also seemed from the company’s roster and the casting that the Berkeley appearances are serving to give experience to members of corps in line for promotion. Basing stage directions from the Sadler’s Wells-Royal production, with the exception of the Lilac Fairy, the beneficent creatures entered from upstage left while the Lilac Fairy made her entrance in the broad opening mid stage right. Elena Vostrotina,lyric charmer with a right leg Guillem extension, projected the gracious command expected of the Lilac Fairy. The bewitching creatures’ names confuse me from those early memories but Ksenia Ostreykovskaya’s Tenderness Fairy was rendered at a dragging, rather than a crooning tempo, while she adapted admirably. Still the memory of the sensuous glory of Violetta Elvin sets the hallmark for me. Yana Selina’s Carefree Fairy and later her White Cat were all pertness and vivacity; if the Brave Fairy was the dancer in marigold Yana Serebrinkova struck my eye as a genuine comer with her small head, sloping shoulders, vertical posture supported by arrow straight legs and elegant pointes. Commencing, Andrey Yakovlev’s Catalabutte was almost obsequious; one can almost hear his compliments being showered on targeted ears. Vladimir Ponomarev was almost too remote as the King, admittedly his size assisting; Elena Bazhenova was the warm gracious queen, able to implore when necessary. The Carabosse reading by Roman Skripkin was everything one could wish for; his tall, lean body swathed in a black cape looked straight from the best of ghoulish New Yorker cartoons. The audience later hissed him! The Russians all seemed to do stroking movements with particular dimension, his no exception. While his carriage was a postage stamp, his contingent was numerous, in two styles of costumes, some garbed like grey carrion birds, others hulking around like black neanderthal creatures. In the First Act the smaller of San Francisco Ballet’s children executed their waltz assignments with considerable charm and competence; the pages, however, were uneven with the divergent American and Russian style walk and deportment evident; the SF boys, with one or two exceptions, seemed untutored in assuming a role or character. They could use some coaching by Peter Brandenhoff. The major casting flub came with Princess Florina and The Blue Bird. Vasily Scherbakov, short and compact, Sofia Gumerova as Princess Florina, cutting a taller, grander figure, were definitely mismatched. Both also were not supported with anywhere near the usual tempo throughout the pas de deux, which itself was truncated. Oleisa Novikova and Leonid Sarafanov proved not only an ideal couple in size, proportion and rapport, but revelations in their command of character. Novikova’s entrance was like a burst, followed by dutiful contact with her parents and then a slightly uncertain air, ‘what’s next on today’s agenda?” Her contact with the suitors was charming, a bit neutral, occasionally a little abashed with intuitive understanding of the intent behind their attention, even to an uncertain turning to her mother repeating her request for direction. Novikova conveyed a remarkable degree of trust in her human milieu. Her dismay being pricked by the spindle tucked into her bouquet sent ripples of concern amongst the courtiers; one suitor unsheathed his sword, getting killed for his pains. As for Novikova’s challenge in The Rose Adagio, she met it handily, although one noticed a slight flutter and rather rapid changes from one partner to another in one set of sequences; but she has an arrow straight back, beautifully sloping shoulders and a neck on which her small dark haired head sits in quiet security; she makes great use of the hands folded in front of the tutu and when she did smile it was radiant and warm. She slipped twice, but recovered instantly and continued with sang froid aplomb. The suitors were stalwart partners; it was intriguing to watch them clustered around the royal parents, pressing their suit like playing chemin de fer at Monte Carlo, trying to be civilized about bargaining - so many camels, the rooms in the various chateaux, the hectares in each property brought with the liaison. Leonid Sarafanov energized the proceedings with nerved correctness. His variation after his initial vision of Aurora absolutely set the audience afire. A left-turner, blond, small and tidy, he was always very much in command, impetuous when aroused, impatient to locate the reality of his vision, dispelling Carabosse’s minions with dash and dispatch to plant his kiss upon Aurora. Her awakening was quite lovely - instead of the quick blackout, she comes forward incredulous at seeing daylight once more, relates to both parents and then asks “but who is responsible?” Desire steps forward, she visibly reacts and the two clearly connect. In the wedding scene, there were one or two moments when the couple exchanged a gaze far beyond court and stage protocol. Their pas de deux lacked the fish dives, but it was both musical and intimate. Hard to believe this was only Novikova’s 6th performance as Aurora, or that Sarafanov was an outsider, a prize winner from Kiev, but not surprising he was touted to me as the best male classical dancer in Russia today. International stars may occupy opening nights, but Novikova and Sarafanov left lingering moments in my mind of a land where feeling and intimacy are added to classical virtuosity and both elements triumph.
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