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Royal Ballet

‘Sylvia’

January 2008
London, Covent Garden

by Jane Simpson



© John Ross

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The last time we saw Frederick Ashton's Sylvia at Covent Garden it was looking very good: confident, assured performances carried us easily over the oddities of the plot and the weakness of some of the choreography, and emphasised the glowing beauty of the rest of the evening. This time round - at least at the performance I saw - it's not working quite so well. There's still much pleasure to be had, but there were also moments - the beginning of Act 3 in particular - when I thought that a shortened version might serve Ashton's memory better. The whole piece, choreography apart, is balanced precariously on the knife edge between fun and foolishness and the least wobble, the least sign of doubt from the cast, could bring it crashing down on the wrong side.

The highlight for me, perhaps even eclipsing the last act pas de deux, is the long sequence of dances for Sylvia and her attendants in the opening scene - it looks like pure Ashton in invention and musicality, as well as being a charming, and quite touching, portrait of the heroine in her carefree, love-free domain. When Marianela Nunez first danced it she did it with the artless happiness of youth. In the three years since then she's grown and changed, and perhaps she's lost that first freshness; but it's still a role that suits her very well, and she certainly has the confidence and fearlessness of a natural leader. She has fun with the scene in Orion's grotto - you can practically see the 'Thinks!' bubble when she decides to make him drunk - and manages very well the transition from triumph to near-panic when she realises she's on her own and far from home. In Act 3 she didn't reach the heights I remember from last time - she was just very good, rather than completely breathtaking. That does, though, mean that one can look more closely at the detail of what she does, and admire for instance the way she takes her wonderfully secure balances without any fuss: no telegraphing to the audience how difficult it is, she just does it and then moves on. And I love the way that in an adagio she can move straight from the most delicate Ashton-y effect into a huge, passionate swoop into arabesque.
 


Sylvia's Attendants
© John Ross


Nunez was partnered by David Makhateli, replacing the injured Rupert Pennefather, and of course there's no knowing how much this may have affected her interpretation. Makhateli's dancing has a nice, clear line but he hasn't yet found the way to make this rather anonymous hero come to life. Thiago Soares makes a wonderful villain - I'd love to see him in Le Corsaire - and you have to think that Sylvia's married life might have been rather more entertaining if she'd settled for him instead. I liked Joshua Tuifa as Eros, most particularly at the moment when he throws of his disguise after reviving the 'dead' Aminta - there was something quite majestic about the way he did it and for just a second you could believe he was something more than human.

But, oh dear, that long sequence of ensemble dances that opens the third act seemed interminable. Whatever do people who know nothing of the ballet's history make of it? Who are all these characters in different costumes and why do they never get to do a solo or a proper pas de deux? It's only very hard work and an appearance of total conviction from the dancers that can make it tolerable, and this time it just didn't come off. Fortunately by the time the curtain comes down, the wondrous pas de deux and then Diana's turbulent little scene have made us forget it.


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