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![]() December 2007 Baden-Baden, Festspielhaus by Azulynn |
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Fairytales sometimes do come alive on stage, as if they'd always been there, just forgotten, allowing us to remember why we go to the theatre, again and again. The Mariinsky Sleeping Beauty indeed looked like a truce on all matters of politics or casting in Baden-Baden, a splendid show every dancer that afternoon could be proud of. True, the company style seems to change slightly but distinctly as the years go by ; accents feel sharper, the dancing acquires a new, almost metal-like quality, while legato is more often missing, but there's an emotion to this Sleeping Beauty that one does not find in many classical productions. Konstantin Sergeev's Sleeping Beauty, premiered in 1952, may not look as opulent as the reconstructed version usually performed in Saint-Petersburg, but its simplicity is extremely fitting for a fairytale. The costumes are light, serviceable, as the fairies' vividly colored ones indicate ; the scenery is warm and seems to reflect on the four seasons as the mood of the story changes. One thing I find compelling is the respect everyone on stage shows for the spirit of this Beauty, as if trying to out-do Tchaïkovsky and Petipa was totally unnecessary - for everything is already there, carried on by a cherished tradition. The only issue may be the removal of practically all the mime scenes, as usual in soviet productions ; the relationships between some characters look very mysterious as a result, and although the fairytale is well-known, more storytelling wouldn't hurt. The doors of the castle give way to the Prologue, devoted to Aurora's christening, and the six fairies positively shined upon it that afternoon. The harmony of their every gesture contrasts perfectly with the authority of the King, played by Vladimir Ponomarev, and the Queen, a somewhat stiff Elena Bazhenova. Nadezhda Gonchar danced the first variation, mellow and benevolent as the Candide Fairy, waving at the cradle with tenderness, just as Yulia Kasenkova in the third variation. An unannounced dancer replaced Yevgenia Obraztsova as the Coulante Fairy, and looked less self-assured than the other dancers of this Prologue, but the Canari Fairy of Yana Selina proved exhilarating, swift and musical, while Irina Golub devoured space as Violente, a part that fits her stage persona like a glove ; she seemed to be having a blast playing with the sharp accents of her variation. The Lilac Fairy for this performance, Anastasia Kolegova, has been with the company for barely a year and a half, and I must say she looked radiant on stage. Slender and youthful-looking, what she lacks in quiet authority she makes up for with a distinct aura of happiness. Some of her développés and arabesques though still look « punched », a tad too athletic, where she's also capable of beautiful fondus, her lines suddenly blending into the air ; experience may still be lacking here, but her cheerfulness as Aurora's godmother was the ideal counterpoint to Islom Baimuradov's wonderful Carabosse. Baimuradov is an artist, and he takes us very far from the usual cliché of the Ever-Sniggering Evil Fairy. Here we see Carabosse entering for the first time withered on her carriage, surrounded by her creatures, and Baimuradov delineates in this scene a very old Fairy, a witch turned blind out of pride, who rips off Catalabutte's wig with a quietly subdued, meticulous cruelty. The dancer has to do with reduced mime, but Baimuradov took full advantage of the part he's given in Act II as guardian of the sleeping castle ; in a delightful little scene, he mimes for his followers how he tricked Aurora, again and again, underlining Carabosse's self-satisfaction, all her complacent madness epitomized in a few gestures.
We have to wait in this production until after the first intermission to get a first glimpse of Aurora, and Olesya Novikova proved absolutely enchanting in the title role. Medium-sized, very light, she resembles in Act I a graceful young fawn, her eyes wide open, as if she had just stumbled innocently into the world. Her character in the ballet builds cleverly around her very modest demeanor on stage, and although she may have everything (physically and technically) to be a « Diana Vishneva bis », as I've seen her discribed, her restraint is at odds with Vishneva's very dramatic stage manner. There is no affectation whatsoever in her Sleeping Beauty, and her steely technique is all the more remarkable for it. It's no use looking for mistakes ; there weren't any. Add to that what a beautiful classicist Novikova is, displaying the choreography rigorously, as if uncovering a masterpiece. The Rose Adagio went by as a mere formality, with a few nice balances. More importantly, in the Act I adage and variation, she acknowledged the entire court with a innocent and youthful wonder, present in the smallest head tilts towards the princes. She looked a little tired by the end of Act I, but came back to deliver a very strong performance in the next two acts. I feel she's one of those dancers who let the dance speak for itself, never trying to over-act the story, and while she may look somewhat distant as a result, this approach works very well in Sleeping Beauty ; her naturally elegant, almost hieratic arms, the way they seem to carry the movement and show us the harmony at its heart are truly a wonder. The Vision Scene may require a softer, warmer lyricism, especially in Aurora's variation, but Novikova's Act III variation in the Grand Pas was a moment of sheer emotion, from the slight épaulement lending a perfect curve to the opening attitudes to her diagonal of dégagés on pointe, led by a beautifully yielding upper body. The Mariinsky seems to have found, in Olesya Novikova, a princess of rather uncommon gifts.
![]() © Natasha Razina
I feel compelled to mention the Mariinsky corps de ballet right after the principals, as it was dazzingly perfect in this Sleeping Beauty. True, we hear sometimes of a decline, a new found disparity in its ranks, and I've seen performances that were lacking in that respect, but here the company proved it can still reach supreme heights. The Act I waltz was a delight, waves of dancers crossing path as if gently breathing together, and the Vision Scene looked as gorgeous as ever, the coda conjuring up images of the Wilis crossing the stage and melting into one magical being. Act III was another sparkling display of the company's strengths, and its overall consistency topped up even the quality of each individual divertissement. The wedding starts with a grand parade, featuring a great number of fairytale characters, from Little Red Riding Hood to Tom Thumb or Cinderella, some of them on stage only for a few seconds, while Aurora and her prince preside over the event, appropriately dressed. The Lilac Fairy then gets a variation, somewhat athletic-looking in Anastasia Kolegova's rendition, but then I don't know if the opening marathon of développés seconde (right, left, right, left...) has any potential as great poetry. The Jewels section got a splendid performance from Nadezhda Gonchar, Irina Golub and Yulia Kasenkova, a spot-on trio, and Ekaterina Osmolkina, displaying her quicksilver technique and a huge smile as Diamond. Yana Selina was her witty self as the White Cat - I really enjoy the slight irony she brings to such parts, and her almost elastic jumps and extensions certainly seemed to please Puss-in-Boots. The Bluebird pas de deux, finally was just as worthy of mention ; the Mariinsky seems to favor couples where Florine is slightly taller than her partner, and it actually makes sense when we see the princess trying to replicate the Bluebird's flying lightness when she herself is doomed to remain human, but the partnering sections sometimes look awkward. Sofia Gumerova was a sensitive Princess Florine ; although she's quite tall, her technique looked pure and restrained, and she lent a fitting sense of longing to the end of her variation. Vasily Scherbakov, as the Bluebird, seemed to favor light, floating jumps instead of very high ones, thus disguising all effort, and the coda, with its quietly feline diagonal of brisés volés, suggested both dancers wanted to avoid turning this pas de deux into a display of sheer virtuosity ; they did, and very well indeed.
A word, finally, about the Grand Pas de Deux that brought together Aurora and the Prince, Olesya Novikova and Igor Kolb. The dancers and the orchestra built it as the climax of the four-hour performance, bringing to the diagonal usually featuring the fish dives (and here simpler choreography) an exciting sense of occasion. Olesya Novikova seemed to be expressing her gratitude to the Prince, and showed perfect restraint in the arabesques penchées, never hitting 180°; in the coda, between two phrases, she reached for him with her upper body, suggesting love and relief, before reverting to her noble carriage. Lucky kingdom.
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