By Tara Mitton Catao
You are all dressed up. You are going to Dreyfoos Hall to see Swan Lake, the most revered Russian story-ballet, which is being performed by the Moscow City Ballet, a “critically acclaimed” touring Russian ballet company. It is natural to have a certain set of expectations. After all, the house at the Kravis Center is sold out for the one-night show.
Then the show started. The lights dimmed and before the curtain was raised, the prologue was played. Hmmm: It was recorded. You rationalized that times are hard for the arts and that it was just one night of performance; therefore, it was understandable that they were using recorded music rather than an orchestra.
Then the curtain opened Friday and the curve balls continued — a virtual hailstorm of them.
Act I started off quite as one might expect with a traditional lavish painted backdrop of the palace with the lake in the background and equally lavish ballet court costumes, but by Act III, one felt that one had been jerked away from the quiet European landscape of yesteryears and thrust into a Cirque du Soleil show in Las Vegas.
What ensued was the strangest hodgepodge of choreography, production elements and an over-all disappointing lack of artistry and technique. Perhaps first and foremost was the fact that this production of Swan Lake took elements from seven different choreographers, giving it a very disjointed flow.
Swan Lake has a long and complex history beginning with its rough start in Russia in the late 1800s. Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, who received the commission to compose the score in 1875, did so with speed and excitement. Despite his popularity as a composer, Tchaikovsky’s score was initially not well-received, either by the assigned choreographer, who thought it “undanceable,” or the critics and audience, who thought it “too noisy, too ‘Wagnerian’ and too symphonic.” In fact, the premiere of Swan Lake was a total bomb. People didn’t like the story, the production, the performers or the music.
Since then, it has been reworked both choreographically and musically many times. The storyline and characters have been altered. There is even a critically acclaimed, contemporary version with male swans by Matthew Bourne. However it is the Russian version from 1895 with the choreography of Petipa, Ivanov and Drigo that is revered and considered to be one of the most exquisite examples of classical ballet.
While he did maintain some of these famous variations, the late Victor Smirnov-Golovanov, Moscow City Ballet’s founding director, created his own version of the tale with, unfortunately, very simplistic and repetitive results. This was particularly apparent in the choreography for one of the main characters, Von Rothbart, the evil scorerer. Even though Andrei Zhuravlev danced with all the drama he had, the steps in his character’s choreography were flat, uninteresting and over-used.
The role of Odetta/Odile was danced by Lillya Orekhova. This role was at one time performed by two different dancers but today this role is performed by a single dancer. It is viewed as the most challenging role for a ballerina, as it requires not only a dramatic change in character but also a complete change in style in the interpretation of the steps in the choreography. But most importantly, the ballerina’s acting must be multi-layered and believable and the technique must be rich and flawlessly musical with miraculous transitions.
Orekhova, a slight brunette with beautiful feet and lovely lines, was pleasing to look at, but didn’t display the depth of character development and maturity of artistry needed to give credence to this famous dramatic role. Her Prince Siegfried was the handsome Talgat Kozhabaev, who was pleasing to look at as well. He was confident in his classical miming, filling the stage with grand gestures, but he was quite short on technical ability.
Much of the aesthetic success of Swan Lake rests on the shoulders of the corps de ballet, particularly the 20 swans whose unison work is under the microscope in the lines and formations. It is grueling work, as every arm, every foot and every head needs to be perfectly timed and to look exactly the same, but this hard work can lead to magical results. The corps, who ranged greatly in technical ability, looked clean but they were missing the requisite softness of the arms and arched articulation in the pointe work.
One dancer who looked truly at ease and was enjoying himself immensely was the character of the jester. Danced by Valeril Karavtsov, full of life and energy compared to the rest of the cast, the role seemed out of balance with the main story line, which has little to do with jesting. But thank goodness Karavtsov was there, as he elevated the level of dancing quite a few notches with his noticeable charm and his repeated scissor jetés and double tours en l’air.
After intermission, things took an about-face. The more traditional visual thread that had been established in the first half was replaced with a very alternative look. It was an almost kitsch interpretation of the unraveling drama. There was an very attractive, semi-transparent scrim that looked like a giant drawing of huge figures — some just partially outlined and others fully realized — that stretched across the entire back of the stage.
The choice of using this scrim was surprising as it gave an almost surreal look to the Prince’s betrothal ball. Then there was the choice of having Odile make her first appearance in at the ball in an arresting half-white, half-black tutu before quickly returning wearing the traditional black tutu of the black swan. Von Rothbart’s costume looked like a homemade Halloween version of Birdman, the recent movie.
After Siegried realized his betrayal to Odetta, the frenzy built with flashes of lighting and a multitude of flurrying swans, but the choreography flailed as Von Rothbart, in his moment of glory, kept repeating the same uninteresting steps he had done all evening. In general, the acting was superficial and overdone and therefore, by the end, almost comedic.
There are many known endings for Swan Lake but there, amongst all the swan arms and “drama,” I was not entirely sure which one had occurred. Did just Odetta drown or did Siegfried drown with her? Did Von Rothbart die too, after all that emoting?
I overheard a woman behind me say in a halting tone “I would never know that this is Swan Lake. It is so … different.”