Tag: Alexandre Dumas Fils

Posted on

ABT’s LADY OF THE CAMELLIAS

 

(Photo of Cory Stearns and Irina Dvorovenko in John Neumeier’s Lady of the Camellias, taken from ABT website – click on photo for link).

I so love this ballet. It’s my favorite ABT is putting on this season (since there’s no Manon or Romeo and Juliet). I went to see Lady of the Camellias Saturday night – out of curiosity, went to see the new cast – Cory Stearns and Irina Dvorovenko – and just came away from the Met feeling like I had the fullest, richest, most rewarding night at the ballet this season. I just feel like something about the minimal, but completely realistic sets, the authentic and beautiful period costumes (both costumes and sets are by Jurgen Rose), the depth of emotion conveyed by the story, the heartbreaking story itself, the book it’s based on, the gorgeous partnering, all just really drew me in and made me feel like I was inside of the narrative.

First, I love how there are no curtains – you just walk in to the auditorium and there’s the open stage;  you walk in on the set. And then the first dancer comes out on stage before the chandeliers have risen to dim the auditorium’s lights … so it’s not like a performance at all; it’s like you’re eavesdropping on the characters and their story.

And I love how at points the dancers use the front side of the stage.  You feel like they’re right above you. And you can watch both side stories – taking place there – and the center story, taking place center stage – at once.

I should say, this is the story of a younger man, in love with an older woman – a famous Parisian courtesan (the text is based on the 1849 novel by Alexandre Dumas, fils) who is dying of consumption. It’s a tragedy, as, through the meddlings of others who don’t want them to be together for various reasons – they are torn apart.

Cory Stearns was perfect as the younger man, Armand Duval. He danced very well – executed all of those seemingly impossible but beautiful lifts 🙂 , and he really brought his character to life. He is a natural actor. Either that or he has acting training, because he’s one of the best in the company at that, in my opinion. I love Diana Vishneva in the main role – Marguerite Gautier (and my friend and I passed Diana, holding flowers and still made up, as we were walking from the Italian restaurant where we had dinner to the Met), but I thought Dvorovenko did very well too, danced beautifully, had strong chemistry with Stearns, and overall fit her role as well.

I also loved the supporting cast. Gennadi Saveliev doesn’t often impress me, but wow, he did Saturday night in the role of the party attendant who’s having big fun with that horse whip, holding it next to his pelvis and making suggestive movements, and all that. He was a lot of fun, and he danced the bravura parts spectacularly. Luciana Paris shone as his partner, the sultry, hip swaying, Mlle. Duvernoy, and Melanie Hamrick was also radiant as Olympia, Armand’s would-be mistress, had he not been so in love with Marguerite. Vitali Krauchenka and Grand DeLong were totally believable as, respectively, Armand’s father, and the regal, all-powerful angry Duke who wants Marguerite for himself. And finally, Stella Abrera danced beautifully as Marguerite’s reflection of herself (or Manon Lescaut in the ballet-within-the-ballet, however you want to see it). Blaine Hoven was a good partner for her, as Des Grieux. His ballet technique is near perfect – even someone without a huge amount of ballet training can tell that – and I think he is acting and emoting much better than before, though I still think he has a ways to go before he might be considered principal material.

The pianists (music is Chopin) – Koji Attwood, Nimrod Pfeffer, and Emily Wong – were brilliant. They deserved their substantial applause at the end, during curtain calls.

Everything just came together to make a really memorable ballet. And these weren’t even the “star” dancers – these were the “up and comings”! The choreographer, John Neumeier, originally created the ballet for the Stuttgart Ballet. He currently runs the Hamburg Ballet (both companies being in Germany, of course, though I think Neumeier is American). So many of my European friends think ballet is so much more alive in Europe than in America, and they enjoy going there so much more than here. I can see why. More Neumeier and MacMillan, Kevin McKenzie!

Posted on

ABT’S LADY OF THE CAMELLIAS NOT VULGAR!

 

Photo by Gene Schiavone, of Roberto Bolle and Julie Kent in Lady of the Camellias, taken from ABT website.

I was so busy last week carting pounds and pounds of books back and forth from the Javits Center – and killing my back and shoulders in the process, that I haven’t had time yet to figure out how to reinstall my Disqus system, which means you still can’t comment here, unfortunately. Sorry! I was going to wait to write about ABT’s Lady of the Camellias (and their other ballets I’ve seen) until I had the comments system up again, and until I’ve seen the second Lady cast, but I just have a few things to say now, mainly prompted by the critics, as usual.

This ballet, by John Neumeier, the artistic director of the Hamburg Ballet, is based on – and closely follows – the 1848 novel by Alexandre Dumas, Fils, which in turn is based on the tragic true story of a beautiful and rather famous Parisian courtesan, Marguerite Gautier, who falls in love with a young rich Frenchman, Armand Duval. The story is told in flashback and through various viewpoints and utilizes a play within a play to create theme (or a ballet within a ballet — in this case Manon, which tells the same doomed story of a prostitute and her lover), but this complicated structure doesn’t seem to confuse since the basic story is pretty clear. Though she initially rejects him when they meet at a performance of Manon, Marguerite eventually falls for Armand, and is torn between her role in society and her love for him. Armand is by turns angry, jealous, smitten, in love, and finally devastated when Marguerite terminates her relationship with him, due to pressures from the powerful Duke and Armand’s upright father, then dies of tuberculosis. Neumeier, an American who, like William Forsythe, has for most of his career worked in Germany, made the ballet in 1978, but this is the first time ABT has performed it. The novel has previous incarnations in the opera La Traviata and the Greta Garbo movie Camille.

I saw not Tuesday’s opening night but Thursday’s performance, by the same cast as opening night: Roberto Bolle as Armand, Julie Kent as Marguerite, and Gillian Murphy and David Hallberg as the “ballet within the ballet” dancers from Manon, Manon and Des Grieux. My first thoughts are: I loved Neumeier’s Death in Venice (based on the Mann novel) and I loved this as well. He really knows how to make a theatrical ballet, how to grab you and make you feel like you’re in these characters’ story. The settings are extravagant and specific, evocative of the 19th Century, the costumes are plush, and good use is made of the front edges of the stage, where the dancers come to reflect on the onstage action or to carry on with their own drama outside of the main action. The music is all Chopin, both orchestral and piano, and often the pianist is onstage; at times he actually becomes a character in the drama, interacting with the others, making music while they dance, and whom the characters may tease, or stop from playing to create a commotion. There were so many things to watch — the characters on the front side of the stage, the ensemble dancing in the middle, the pianist. It created a world. And the ballet within the ballet was done very well too: a red curtain masking the back half of the stage parted to reveal David and Gillian in heavy makeup and 18th Century garb, and they danced a Manon pas de deux as the others reacted — Armand falling for the beautiful Marguerite as Marguerite began to identify with Gillian’s Manon.

And then the beautiful partnering between Marguerite and Armand becomes front and center whenever it happens. Many critics are finding the choreography vulgar and crass but I didn’t. I thought the many sweeping lifts were beautiful and evocative of that world – this isn’t Romeo and Juliet, it’s the story of a courtesan and her very passionate lover, so it makes sense for Armand to lift Marguerite high above his head in adulation one moment then bring her down and place her on the floor the next. At times it reminded me of Kenneth MacMillan (both his versions of Romeo and Juliet and Manon) without copying him; the lifts were original. At one point, Armand holds his arms out in a T shape and Marguerite wraps her arms around his from behind. It looks like she’s on a cross. Or at times he’ll pick her up by holding onto her lower arms, which she’ll hold down. It looks like she’s a prisoner and can’t move – which she is in a way. And then there are lifts where she’s lying on her side, like he’s glorifying her.

Also, some of the choreography reminded me of Tudor, such as when Marguerite is begging for acceptance from Armand’s father and she circles around him repeatedly on pointe, or where a character will show hesitation and conflicted feelings with the almost Swan Lake-like rapid fluttering of a foot or by going in one direction, then with intentionally awkward rapidity, stopping and going in the opposite.

And I loved some of the floor choreography. At one point, Marguerite and Armand are sitting opposite each other, back to back, legs extended out, and they lean back and lovingly wrap their necks around each other’s side to side. So sweet.

I don’t know, look at some of these NYTimes slides and see if you think “vulgar” or original, evocative. Critics are also saying the choreography is severely lacking in musicality. To be honest, I didn’t pay much attention to that. I thought Chopin was evocative of that era, that world, as was the choreography, but I didn’t pay attention to the ways that the movement complemented the music. In general I don’t think a certain movement has to hit a certain beat; sometimes movement can play with a rhythm, question it, or work against it for effect. I don’t even think movement needs music. But I’ll pay attention to the music and movement when I see the ballet again next week.

I’ll also write more about the dancers’ interpretations after I’ve seen the second cast.