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By Patricia Boccadoro
PARIS,
22 March 2001 - It
is very difficult to be objective about a ballet like Giselle,
the most beautiful and most human of all the classics where an
innocent girl is wronged by a boy of noble birth who encounters love
for the first time, but doesn't realise it until it is too late. At
least, this was the interpretation given to the work the first time I
saw it. It was at Covent Garden in the early 60's, and the performance
of Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev marked me for life.
Since
then, there have been countless enjoyable versions including that
danced by Ekaterina Maximova and Vladimir Vasiliev in the courtyard of
the Pope's Palace in Avignon, the enchanting production of Arthur
Mitchell and Carl Michel for the Dance Theatre of Harlem, when Act 1
was set in Louisiana and the title role danced by a little unknown
ballerina, and the wonderful adaptation in 1991 by Patrice Bart and
Eugène Polyakov, with the decors and costumes of Alexandre
Benois.
What
is interesting in these 'traditional' versions, excluding the
brilliant work of Mats Ek, where the story is re-thought out and Act 2
transposed into a lunatic asylum, is that the choreography remains
pretty well just the same. The decor and setting varies, the costumes
are changed, but the actual steps are not, perhaps because the
choreographers know that they cannot improve on this particular
masterpiece, where nothing is superfluous and everything is as clear
today as yesterday.
It
was then, rather a shock to read an interview given by Ms Guillem to
Debra Caine in London where the ballerina states that the ballet Giselle
was "dying by itself", and" becoming more and more
stupid, without any sense". She described it as being empty and
dead and in need of rejuvenation. Suspecting that this would be a
version which particularly suited her own temperament, I confess I
went to see it in Paris with a somewhat jaundiced eye. While I have
always admired Sylvie Guillem, one of the few real stars of today, I
have never thought her suited to the role of Giselle.
The
first act began convincingly enough, although I was bothered by the
large clanking blocks of cement which served as decor, and which were
constantly being shifted across the stage to show us the various
roads, houses, and squares in the village. In the first fifteen
minutes they moved more than the dancers did. The setting was intended
to represent anywhere, from the poverty of the North of England, to
the ruins of Kosovo. Then there were pots of flowers reminiscent of a
Greek village, before the washing was hung out as in Southern Italy,
while the costumes were all from different periods in time, reflecting
both past and present.
Some
members of the company wore working-class pre war clothing, others
Hungarian style peasant costumes, while Bathilde and the Duke seemed to
be in Medieval garb, the former clad in jodhpurs under her red and gold
brocaded gown. Giselle, when you could see her, and it wasn't very
often, had on an old faded cotton print. In the crowds of people milling
round the stage, from the village idiot, the local drunkard, the
postman, the hordes of children cavorting around, the young washer-woman
who was being seduced on the side by a courtier and even the local band,
with bugle, pipes and drum in evidence, Sylvie / Giselle was simply lost
in the mass.
 Sylvie
Guillem and the Finnish National Ballet in Giselle Photo:
Marie-Noelle Robert
Instead of showing
us the heroine in her own background, which is perfectly clear in the
conventional version, everything was very confused and it was impossible
to see where Giselle and Albrecht (Jonathan Cope) had got to until
suddenly there was a magnificent grand jeté, and then an
exquisite foot in the air. Guillem, flawless, faultless, and superb. You
do not admire the leg behind the ear, what you marvel at is the grace
and ease with which it arrives there. Her technical prowess never fails
to astound me, but sadly for her followers, dance in this production has
been cut to make way for theatrical reality, for these are actors on
stage. What is unsure was the name of the drama taking place, for as
moving and effective as the mad scene was, this was not a vulnerable
peasant girl who died of a heart attack.
Aesthetically, the overall
impression was that of a Flemish painting with its tones of browns and
greys, beige and black. Excepting that this was a traditional version of
Giselle, where the first act of passion, gaiety and emotion,
should pave the way for the second act, and these drab, neutral shades
gave no message at all. Giselle could not see the sun sparkling through
the trees. Instead, it was resolutely overcast.
As
the curtain rose on act 2, and Myrtha (Minna Terramaki) arrived in a
halo of light and fog, she was accompanied not by Wilis, the spirits of
young girls betrayed before their wedding day, but by the brides
themselves. There was no tombstone - Giselle had presumably been buried
in a nearby cemetery, so what were Hilarion, a victim if ever there was
one, and Albrecht doing there? Above all, why were these 26 robust young
women roaming a forest of bamboo, at night? Wilis are by definition
spirits of dance-loving brides whose role is to dance to death any human
who gets in their way; it is their reason for being. Take the dance
away, as in this version, and the whole act is robbed of meaning.
 Sylvie
Guillem and the Finnish National Ballet in Giselle Photo:
Marie-Noelle Robert
When
all the poetry and emotion is eliminated, what is the point of Giselle
and Albrecht being there at all? Guillem has removed all the beauty and
spiritual qualities which should pervade. The audience applauded at the
end, but for what?
As I left my seat, echoes of a conversation
with Agnès Letestu, the Paris Opera étoile who danced
Giselle for the first time last year came to mind. "Giselle is one
of my favourite roles, and I identify totally with her", she had
told me. "It's a timeless work which continues to evolve. I love
the fluidity of the arm movements, and the feeling of each slow
arabesque, because each movement has something to say, and nothing in
the work is superfluous. It's exciting to dance, and very modern because
you have to give it everything you've got and each time it's up to the
interpreter to bring it up to date. The steps are there; it's the way
they are danced that matters".
Outside the theatre a
gentle rain was falling, and the magic and poetry which had eluded me
all evening was in front of me. The glittering lights of the fairy-tale
City Hall, its harsher outlines softened in the damp mist were reflected
in the silvery pools of water in the deserted square. The ice-skaters
had long gone home and the empty rink gleamed wetly, bordered by two
merry-go-rounds shining like coloured jewels through the dusk. The
silence was abruptly broken by the great bells of Notre- Dame.
Sylvie
Guillem will perform Giselle with La Scala Ballet at the
Lincoln Center
Festival 2001, New York on 20, 21, 22 July 2001. .
Related
Article and photos: Paris Opera
Ballet Revival of the Famous 1924 Version of Giselle
Patricia
Boccadoro writes on dance in Europe. She contributes to The Guardian,
The Observer and Dancing Times and was dance consultant to the BBC
Omnibus documentary on Rudolf Nureyev. Ms. Boccadoro is the dance editor
for Culturekiosque.com. |
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