Paris Opera 'Romeo and Juliet' reviews 'Romeo and Juliet' reviews 'Arlesienne' reviews 'Carmen' reviews Dupont in reviews Moreau in reviews recent Paris Opera reviews more Sheila Cross reviews

Nureyev’s production of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ adheres more closely to the storyline of Shakespeare’s play than do most of the numerous other versions. This has the strength of making more sense of incidents which usually go unexplained (such as why Romeo returns but doesn’t know that Juliet’s death is faked). Yet the focus on detailing the plot sometimes obstructs the emotional development of the main characters, the essence of the play. The lack of atmosphere at the modern Bastille also reduces the dramatic impact.

However, Aurelie Dupont as Juliet was more emotionally engaged than her performances were several years ago. Astonishingly, this season saw her debut in this role (I saw her second performance). Her dancing was beautifully controlled and phrased, with sublime balances and turns. Herve Moreau, also new to the role, was an ardent, boyish Romeo, and coped well with the tricky choreography. But the choreography is so busy that it fails to develop organically or expressively.

‘Romeo and Juliet’ famously links love, sex and death but from a romantic perspective. The three Petit ballets also associate sex with death but more sinisterly since they are danses macbres. The Paris Opera always performs ‘L’Arlesienne’ with real conviction; without that it would seem hackneyed and melodramatic. But the combination of Bizet’s haunting music, the vibrant backdrop by Allio, so reminiscent of Van Gogh’s celebrations of Provence, the sets contrasting wide open spaces with the claustrophobic room of the bridal home, all provided a compelling context for the dance. Jeremie Belingard, debuting, gave an impassioned performance as the bridegroom driven to madness and death by the memory of his rejected love. The crescendo of his tortured jetes were displayed to maximum effect by the wonderful raked stage of the Garnier theatre, whose intimate atmosphere is also crucial to the success of the piece. At a later performance Benjamin Pech also gave a moving account.

The corps, all of soloist calibre, danced in unison as an undifferentiated chorus, sharing choreographic images such as splayed hands and providing a calm sense of community which contrasted powerfully with the hero, Frederi’s, anguish. Isabelle Ciaravola, as the loving bride who cannot halt her husband’s suicide, danced in both performances with expressive lyricism. This was the one ballet where the woman on stage was pure and innocent; the woman who inspired Frederi’s tragic passion never appears.

The second ballet, ‘Le Jeune Homme et la Mort’, saw Nicolas Le Riche reprise what is arguably his greatest role. It is essentially a long, intense solo, albeit with a major passage performed with his seductive lover taunting him to suicide. In the final scene she appears as Death. A femme fatale incarnate. The piece’s power is amplified by the way the design, music and choreography work together. The angry dance is contrasted with the purity of Bach’s ‘Passion’, a surprising pairing which works remarkably well, especially given that the choreography was actually created on very different music, jazz, with the Bach only being substituted at the dress rehearsal. The sets are still stunning, nearly 60 years after the ballet’s premiere: the main scene is set in a claustrophobic room that traps the young man, who vents his anguish on the chair (was it the first of all those ballets to deploy a chair as a choreographic prop?) and table in explosive, acrobatic choreography. The second section, after he has hanged himself, is on the rooftops of Paris.

Dressed in dungarees, the character, created on the great Jean Babille, is a James Dean before his time. Le Riche’s dancing is like a powerful outburst of despair. Belingard, at the later performance, also offered a tour de force. Marie-Agnes Gillot was the seductress enticing Le Riche but Eleonara Abbagnato was miscast against Belingard, lacking the dynamic charisma that gives the piece its full force.

The programme ended with the most famous of the ballets,’Carmen’. Another femme fatale, Carmen, corrupts Don Jose, the police officer, seducing him into committing robbery and murder. When her passion wanes she taunts him into murdering her. Again Petit uses the corps (and chairs- this time a corps of chairs!) to dramatic effect, driven by Bizet’s stirring music. Certain passages could now look clichéd, but it is, of course, ‘Carmen’, created in 1949, which is the original source of later imitations. In the first cast, Abbagnato, fine dancer though she is, did not display the sexual attack and charisma essential for Carmen. As a result, the chemistry with Don Jose didn’t work. So Le Riche, in his debut in the role, although dancing magnificently and providing total support as a partner, was not as compelling dramatically as usual. The later performance by Gillot and Jose Martinez was more powerful.

All in all, the two programmes demonstrated the dramatic strengths of many of the company’s dancers. It will be interesting to see whether Le Riche’s first three act ballet, ‘Caligula’, will show Petit’s influence, in the second production of their new season. Before that is premiered, we will have the opportunity to see the Paris Opera in London in a very different genre, the contemporary style of Preljocaj. What a versatile company.