Bolshoi Raymonda reviews Bolshoi Performances?

Nothing about the story of Raymonda explains why it should have survived so long in the repertory. The plot is fairly trivial, if convoluted, and is dispensed with in the first two acts, leaving the third clear for some delightful wedding divertissments. Raymonda bids farewell to her betrothed, who goes to fight in the Crusades: she dreams of him (a typical 19th century vision scene: interesting that it is the woman dreaming of the man this time, rather than the other way round), but her dreams are interrupted by a Saracen warrior who is attracted to her. In the second act, the portent is fulfilled: the Saracen appears, to pay her court, which she naturally refuses, to be rescued from abduction by the convenient return of the hero, who kills Abderakhman the Saracen in single combat. All this is set in a fantasy middle ages setting, in a mad mixture of medieval gowns and tutus. There’s nothing to speak of in terms of development of character - the hero is merely required to look noble throughout - but all of this nonsense does serve as the basis for some quite delightful dancing, set pieces in which the Bolshoi can show off soloist after soloist, as well as the principals, propelled by Glazunov’s score. It’s not exactly a square meal in choreographic terms, more like sitting down with a box of chocolates.

The surprise of the first act was how elegant and restrained it was. It was hard to believe that this was the same company (and some of the same dancers) who had been stomping across the stage in Spartacus (by the same choreographer) only a few days before. The designs were a delicate white and gold, with the hero and heroine in pure white: the vision scene was accompanied by a beautifully marshalled corps of 24 in grey over white tutus which, in lighting unusually subtle for the Bolshoi (spotlights remorselessly tracking the principals is the norm), seemed to shift through mysterious shades of grey-green.

The choreography and its execution was elegant and refined: Raymonda’s friends (Nina Speranskaya, Anna Antonicheva, Ivanov and Skvortsov) had many opportunities to shine, which they took: the women had particularly nice feet. Nina Ananiashvili’s Raymonda was deservedly popular: it’s quite a taxing leading role, but she had a devoted partner in Filin, who piloted her through balance after balance. She was calm and in control, never forced anything, and didn’t feel the need to demonstrate very high extensions: she seemed content to remain very much in the 19th century mood.

Jean de Brienne isn’t much of a role, but Filin fulfilled the demands of not looking silly despite wearing one of the most ridiculous plumed helmets ever seen on stage, and seizing the chances that came his way to demonstrate impeccable technique. It’s probably better not to attempt to act in that role: Mark Peretokin as Abderakham decided to Act, and didn’t we all know about it. But the choreography for him is rather thin: all stomp and bluster, but not much meat in terms of steps.

Act 2 was a little disappointing after the serenity and poise of Act 1: it was evidently necessary for the Saracen to be accompanied by a vast and varied retinue in eye searing combinations of orange and pink. The corps through themselves into it with huge energy, but there was a touch of vulgarity about it completely absent from the other acts. (I wish I knew how which elements of the production were derived from Petipa, and which were Grigorovich’s: I couldn’t help but speculate.) Among the dancers were a lead Saracen couple, wearing rather embarrassing amounts of brown body paint. Not as bad as the blacking up in Bayadere, I was assured, but a little tasteless all the same. The confrontation of the Saracen warriors and the returning crusaders was very stylised and schematic, likewise the duel between Jean and the Saracen, which is relatively short and undramatic, though Abderakham takes an inordinate time over dying. It’s certainly a very big production - there can be up to 50 people on stage at any time, but it is tightly disciplined, making full use of the depth of the Coliseum stage, and always avoids looking crowded.

Act 3 returns to more restrained tones of gold over white and black. It contains some glorious set pieces, with yet more soloists brought out to dazzle us. The section for four men and some of Raymonda’s variations are recognisable from the RB version, but many details of the individual dances were different. Despite a demanding evening, Ananiashvili still had plenty of verve for her variations, and Filin demonstrated some beautiful jumps. The corps didn’t look perhaps quite as uniform or as drilled as they had done earlier in the run in Giselle, but the company looked more relaxed and more confident, as if they had begun to relax here and really enjoy their dancing - they are certainly appreciated by the audiences, if not by all the critics.

Ashton considered creating a full scale production of Raymonda, but abandoned the idea, because of the intractable nature of the story. Pity. Some of the music is delightfully danceable, and sounds just right for an Ashton score, particularly the first act. It has been pleasant to hear the Bolshoi orchestra playing with real commitment, rather than the on sufferance performances we can sometimes get for ballet from orchestras here.