Mute swans and rare birds
Ballet: Swan Lake, MCC
I don't think that I could have been more than six or seven years old when I first heard the Swan Lake theme; that unforgettable haunting passage, all harp glissandi and a plaintive oboe solo that sears into your very soul. A cousin was, at the time, a pupil of Princess Poutiatine and, like all 13-year-old girls, had visions of herself dancing Odette/Odile one day. I fell for Swan Lake hook, line and sinker and still, all these years later, get gooseflesh whenever the theme is played; such is the sheer beauty of the most celebrated of Tchaikovsky's ballets.
Swan Lake at the MCC last week was a great treat. Performed by the stars of the Bolshoi Theatre with the participation of the State Classic Ballet Theatre under the experienced supervision of Natalia Kasatkina and Vladimir Vasilyov, Maltese audiences had the very rare experience of having the Presidential Orchestra of The Kremlin under the direction of Anton Orlov; a live orchestra instead of the usual taped music, which, because of the prohibitive expense involved is unfortunately the norm whenever that rare bird, ballet, graces our shores.
The Bolshoi is an ongoing legend in its own right; possibly surpassed on this earth only by the Kirov. It is strange how the Russians, whether under Czarist or Communist rule, have jealously retained not only the tradition but the reputation for unsurpassed excellence in classical ballet. I would imagine that the world's most fervent and fanatical balletomanes are found in Moscow and St Petersburg, followed closely by London, where it is taken for granted that everyone who is anyone in the cultural world has to be a balletomane too. However, it is always Russia that leads the way and has for centuries provided the world with ballets, choreographers and dancers that are now part of the genre's legend.
Classical ballet is a strange genre which if looked at dispassionately may be boiled down to the ability to count and the gift of doing it gracefully. This is why choreographers reign supreme. The ability to weld the arabesques, entrechats, brises, battements, eleves and pirouettes into an expressive poem that, through some magic formula, conveys emotion, while, if one observes closely, not actually being in synch with the music, is an illusion that requires total genius to create. This is why the great choreographers like Petipa, Balanchine, Macmillan, Messerer and Ivanov, to name but a few, are revered like gods.
From the drawing board to the actual stage then it is the dancer that makes the whole contrivance come alive to entrance the audience with wonderful coordination where ensembles are concerned, and inimitable grace and gossamer lightness from the great soloists who like opera singers remain legends long after they have been wafted to the realms of the Almighty Choreographer.
The choreography in last week's production was a mixture of Petipa, Gorsky, Ivanov and Messerer. Unforgettable are those lakeside scenes bathed in blue light with those flocks of mute, white swans fluttering their arms and making their stiff tutus tremble as they perform eleve after eleve; mute swans that with a tiny gesture can convey a volume of emotion; such is the magic of Swan Lake with its ensembles of swan girls led by the lovely Odette with whom Prince Siegfried, as befits a romantic prince, must fall in love with. The whole production was delight to the eye; lovely costumes in the court scenes, simple though highly effective scenery and, above all, romance of the first order.
I will not forget that wonderful pas de quatre in a hurry nor those 32 fouettes en tournant at the end of the pas de deux performed by Odile. Whether there were 32 or not is immaterial to a numerically challenged person like myself; all I know is that they were wonderful and brought the house down. Anna Antonicheva was superlative as Odette/Odile; ethereal and as light as gossamer as the White Swan Odette and dazzling and virtuosic as the Black Swan Odile. Sergei Filin, as Prince Siegfried was adequate but not memorable. It seemed as if his was a mere supporting role and little else. It may have been the choreography itself that pales into insignificance next to Odette's but I felt that Filin's dancing was outshone by Alexey Pryadkin who played the Fool. Menacing and sinister describes the dancing of Mark Peretokin who played the sorcerer Rothbart.
The rest of the cast were excellent and even if the male dancers were a teensy bit clumsy and uncoordinated at times the whole thing went down a treat. This was a very conventional production of Swan Lake; one that also had to be tailor-made for the size limitations of the MCC stage. One actually could notice that there were steps included that were inserted so as not to have any of the dancers landing on the lap of some violinist in the pit. Speaking of which, more than a word of praise is due to the orchestral soloists, notably the oboist and the harpist, without whom that inimitable atmosphere pertinent to this ballet and this one alone could never have been achieved.
A wonderful evening by all accounts and one that was highly appreciated by everyone I spoke to. Now, a word to the organisers; we all know that half way through the booking period the seat prices of the ballet had to be reduced as, logically, it was observed that at those high prices booking was on the sluggish side. I know and fully appreciate the fact that in Malta operatic and ballet productions cost a bomb; much much more than they do anywhere else in Europe because we live on an island and everything has to be flown in instead of railed or driven as they are on the continent.
This is something that the ministries of finance and culture must take into consideration by facilitating and subsidising to the extent that local prices do not exceed what is usually paid in leading theatres in Europe; the last tariff paid by me for a ballet at the Coliseum in St Martin's Lane was £45 for a reasonably good seat. Everything is relative. We suddenly had two lovely ballets in a matter of a week and both were highly appreciated. Just as the Manoel Theatre stages its so-called annual Opera Festival in March, I feel that a Ballet Festival is very much on the cards. Please note that a festival does not, I repeat, does not, consist of just two productions. In that case please do not call it a festival.
There was a time when cultural attachés from the various embassies were so flush as to be in strong competition as to who procured the most lavish cultural event. Those days are sadly gone. Also gone are the days when the Ministry of Culture subsidised wonderful ballet productions at the MCC during the late lamented Paddy Stubbs's chairmanship. Those days are now but distant memories. Can any of us who were there ever forget the Giselle with Carla Fracci and Georg Jancu? I will never forget it. Now that we are part of the EU there must be a way to obtain subsidies that will ensure that Maltese audiences will have equal opportunities as their continental counterparts.
Swan Lake at the MCC last week was a great treat. Performed by the stars of the Bolshoi Theatre with the participation of the State Classic Ballet Theatre under the experienced supervision of Natalia Kasatkina and Vladimir Vasilyov, Maltese audiences had the very rare experience of having the Presidential Orchestra of The Kremlin under the direction of Anton Orlov; a live orchestra instead of the usual taped music, which, because of the prohibitive expense involved is unfortunately the norm whenever that rare bird, ballet, graces our shores.
The Bolshoi is an ongoing legend in its own right; possibly surpassed on this earth only by the Kirov. It is strange how the Russians, whether under Czarist or Communist rule, have jealously retained not only the tradition but the reputation for unsurpassed excellence in classical ballet. I would imagine that the world's most fervent and fanatical balletomanes are found in Moscow and St Petersburg, followed closely by London, where it is taken for granted that everyone who is anyone in the cultural world has to be a balletomane too. However, it is always Russia that leads the way and has for centuries provided the world with ballets, choreographers and dancers that are now part of the genre's legend.
Classical ballet is a strange genre which if looked at dispassionately may be boiled down to the ability to count and the gift of doing it gracefully. This is why choreographers reign supreme. The ability to weld the arabesques, entrechats, brises, battements, eleves and pirouettes into an expressive poem that, through some magic formula, conveys emotion, while, if one observes closely, not actually being in synch with the music, is an illusion that requires total genius to create. This is why the great choreographers like Petipa, Balanchine, Macmillan, Messerer and Ivanov, to name but a few, are revered like gods.
From the drawing board to the actual stage then it is the dancer that makes the whole contrivance come alive to entrance the audience with wonderful coordination where ensembles are concerned, and inimitable grace and gossamer lightness from the great soloists who like opera singers remain legends long after they have been wafted to the realms of the Almighty Choreographer.
The choreography in last week's production was a mixture of Petipa, Gorsky, Ivanov and Messerer. Unforgettable are those lakeside scenes bathed in blue light with those flocks of mute, white swans fluttering their arms and making their stiff tutus tremble as they perform eleve after eleve; mute swans that with a tiny gesture can convey a volume of emotion; such is the magic of Swan Lake with its ensembles of swan girls led by the lovely Odette with whom Prince Siegfried, as befits a romantic prince, must fall in love with. The whole production was delight to the eye; lovely costumes in the court scenes, simple though highly effective scenery and, above all, romance of the first order.
I will not forget that wonderful pas de quatre in a hurry nor those 32 fouettes en tournant at the end of the pas de deux performed by Odile. Whether there were 32 or not is immaterial to a numerically challenged person like myself; all I know is that they were wonderful and brought the house down. Anna Antonicheva was superlative as Odette/Odile; ethereal and as light as gossamer as the White Swan Odette and dazzling and virtuosic as the Black Swan Odile. Sergei Filin, as Prince Siegfried was adequate but not memorable. It seemed as if his was a mere supporting role and little else. It may have been the choreography itself that pales into insignificance next to Odette's but I felt that Filin's dancing was outshone by Alexey Pryadkin who played the Fool. Menacing and sinister describes the dancing of Mark Peretokin who played the sorcerer Rothbart.
The rest of the cast were excellent and even if the male dancers were a teensy bit clumsy and uncoordinated at times the whole thing went down a treat. This was a very conventional production of Swan Lake; one that also had to be tailor-made for the size limitations of the MCC stage. One actually could notice that there were steps included that were inserted so as not to have any of the dancers landing on the lap of some violinist in the pit. Speaking of which, more than a word of praise is due to the orchestral soloists, notably the oboist and the harpist, without whom that inimitable atmosphere pertinent to this ballet and this one alone could never have been achieved.
A wonderful evening by all accounts and one that was highly appreciated by everyone I spoke to. Now, a word to the organisers; we all know that half way through the booking period the seat prices of the ballet had to be reduced as, logically, it was observed that at those high prices booking was on the sluggish side. I know and fully appreciate the fact that in Malta operatic and ballet productions cost a bomb; much much more than they do anywhere else in Europe because we live on an island and everything has to be flown in instead of railed or driven as they are on the continent.
This is something that the ministries of finance and culture must take into consideration by facilitating and subsidising to the extent that local prices do not exceed what is usually paid in leading theatres in Europe; the last tariff paid by me for a ballet at the Coliseum in St Martin's Lane was £45 for a reasonably good seat. Everything is relative. We suddenly had two lovely ballets in a matter of a week and both were highly appreciated. Just as the Manoel Theatre stages its so-called annual Opera Festival in March, I feel that a Ballet Festival is very much on the cards. Please note that a festival does not, I repeat, does not, consist of just two productions. In that case please do not call it a festival.
There was a time when cultural attachés from the various embassies were so flush as to be in strong competition as to who procured the most lavish cultural event. Those days are sadly gone. Also gone are the days when the Ministry of Culture subsidised wonderful ballet productions at the MCC during the late lamented Paddy Stubbs's chairmanship. Those days are now but distant memories. Can any of us who were there ever forget the Giselle with Carla Fracci and Georg Jancu? I will never forget it. Now that we are part of the EU there must be a way to obtain subsidies that will ensure that Maltese audiences will have equal opportunities as their continental counterparts.