Lunedi Lunacy

In Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake one of the highlights - and test of a company's Coryphées - is the brief pas de quatre for the cygnets in Act 2.  It's a delightful little interlude as four dancers imitate (?) the movements of baby swans as imagined by Lev Ivanov's .  It is also one of those moments in ballet that is ripe for parody.  

Yesterday my friend - and balletomane par excellence - Simonetta posted a delightful take-off on this iconic moment in dance.  But first I thought I'd post a video of how it is usually done, here by members of the Swedish Royal Ballet.

And now for one of the most original comic takes on that little dance that I've ever encountered:

I don't know who the four dancers are or what the (obviously) gala occasion was but it certainly starts my week off on a fun note.

February 2 - 1709:  Alexander Selkirk is rescued after being shipwrecked on a desert island, inspiring the book Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe.

Salzburger Zeitung 2013 - Fourth Edition

Dateline:  May 26, 2013:

Allium ursinum (wild garlic) gets its Latin name due to the
fondness brown bears have for the bulbs of this spring green.
Its also a great favourite of wild boars.

One of the joys of being back in Europe - hmmm where do I start the list - is the food.   As I mentioned a few days ago it was spargal season in Germany and Austria but Spring is also the time of year for Wild Garlic or Bear's Garlic.  Many cafes and restaurants featured this woodland green on their spring menus in salads, dumplings, presto  and soups.   After my first taste at the hotel in Munich I tucked into variations of   the soup on three more occasions during this trip.  I would have loved to try the dumplings but I went off my gluten-free diet once or twice during the trip and paid the price.

There are as many variations of the soup recipe out there as there are cookbooks and blog writers and  most of them use a potato and stock base.  I'd like to try this in the next few days particularly as the weather is still on the chilly - if not downright cold - and a vibrant green bowl of fragrant soup is always good on days like this.  We do have a close relative of this flavourful plant here in Canada - the Allium tricoccum - which can be found in some markets this time of year.  There has been some controversy over its sale here in Ottawa as it is considered an endangered plant in Québec and poachers have been caught in the Gatineau Park.

Sunday May 19: FrühlingsOPFER
Grosses Festspielhaus: 1500

A design by Nicolas Roerich for the 1913
premiere of Le Sacre de Printemps.

As well as a time for new growth Spring has also been the time for sacrifice in many cultures and lands – the gods or more often simply the earth demanding an offering and in return giving a good harvest. It is a ritual almost as ancient as the human race.

 In 1913 Igor Stravinsky and Vaslav Nijinsky scandalized Paris with their Le sacre de printemps. The legends around what occurred at the Théatre des Champs-Èlysées on May 29 are many and as with all legends have been embroidered over time. Certainly there was a riot with much of the displeasure directed at Nijinsky, who had upset the dance aficionados a few weeks before with his ballet Jeux. But Stravinsky came in for his fair share of brickbats and boos – the orchestra had almost refused to play the score and probably what was heard that first evening had a roughness to it that has long since lost its edge as orchestras learned different techniques since that first performance.

Nijinsky's choreography – much of it apparently influenced by Dalcroze Eurhythmics  – has been long lost. Never repeated after its initial 10 performances (6 in Paris and 4 in London) and certainly never notated the only existing records are photographs, written descriptions and the memories of Marie Rambert who had assisted Nijinsky and danced in those first performances.  Given its unknown state I thought it was odd that the Mariinsky announced that the production (scenes above and below) they were bringing to Salzburg would give us the original decor, costumes and choreography! Certainly the colourful costumes and sets were based on the original designs by Nicolas Roerich, a well-regarded painter and an authority on Russian tribal dress.  But how close Millicent Hodson and Kenneth Archer's “reconstruction” comes to what that audience saw 100 years ago is questionable. Yes many of the poses match the still photographs taken at the time but as Laurent remarked a great deal of what passed for “choreography” seemed to be running around in circles. This is not to say that there were not moments of beauty though they tended to be more tableaux than movement.  Strangely the sacrificial dance of the Chosen One had minimal impact - I recall the first time I saw a version of Sacre with the Royal Ballet, Monica Mason imparted an almost fanatical hypnotic fatalism to this dance to the death.  Here Daria Pavlenko's collapse came out of nowhere and frankly had very little effect.

What made it more than just an interesting exercise in historical speculation was the playing of the Mariinksy Orchestra under Valery Gergiev. As I said for us Sacre will never have the raw savageness that so offended those earlier audiences but Gergiev brought an edge to it that caught much of the primitiveness at its core. If only the choreography and dancing had matched that high standard it would have been a remarkable dance event rather than just a curiosity.

Unfortunately that was to also be the case with the remaining two works: L'Oiseau de feu and Les Noces.  It was almost as if the Mariinksy had decided that since they were sending us Gergiev and the orchestra that a second string troupe of dancers would be acceptable.  Pavlenko was the only company Principal in the group with the rest of the casts being drawn from the Second Soloist and Corphyée ranks.

Prince Ivan (Alexander Romanchikov who danced the first performance) captures
the Firebird (Alexandra Josiefidi) in Michel Fokine's 1910 fairy tale ballet.

Visually L'Oiseau was colourful – again based on original designs from 1910 however with the curtain lowered for the transformation scene – but the dancing left much to be desired. Alexandra Josiefidi's Firebird lacked both grace and, well, fire. She remained essential earthbound at her entry and remained so for the rest of the ballet. Ivan Sitnikov's Prince lacked any sense of nobility – he was far better cast as the bridegroom in Les Noces.  And again there seemed to be much running around in circles from the corps during the scene with Kaschtschej and his hoards of demons.

Natalia Gontcharova's designs for
the friends of the Bridegroom.

Of the three I would have to say that Les Noces was the most successful and most interesting.  Though the programme listed the choreography as Bronislava Nijinka's original it is actually a version staged in 1981 by her daughter Irina for the Oakland Ballet.  The Mariinksy dancers were taught it by Oakland ballet master Howard Sayette  and it was introduced into their repertoire in  2003.  Thus we had Nijinka's dances twice removed and there has been some heated discussion in the ballet world as to how closely it followed her original concepts.  I have only vague recollections of a production at the Opéra in Paris back in the late 1980s so can't speak with any authority on the authenticity of the Kirov version.  There is also some debate about the Kirov dancers being able to assimilate a style of dancing that is foreign to their classical training. 

The ballet (scenes above and below) is a reenactment of a Russian village wedding - not a riotous celebration but a rigid social act performed for the good of family and community - the sacrifice of the bride if you will.   Stravinsky took folkloric wedding texts compiled in the 19th century by Pyotr Kireyevsky and with only four pianos and a large percussion battery created a choral ballet filled with the character and rhythms of Russian folk music.  Nijinska matched it with austere movements and patterns which despite their impersonal coldness take on a sense of the profound and become emotionally moving as the ballet progresses.  Natalia Gontcharova's simple brown and white costumes and stark sets highlight the impersonality of the ritual being enacted and  focused attention on the movements and patterns.

Though the male corps lacked a degree of control and seemed almost uncomfortable with the choreography  the female corps (as one expects of the Mariinsky) wove the  rectangles and pyramids with ritualistic discipline.  Maria Shevyakova brought a poignancy to her portrayal of the Bride - the unwilling pawn in the eternal game.  And for all his lack of nobility as the Prince in L'Oiseau Sitnikov brought exactly that quality to his Bridegroom.

Lest I make it sound like less than an afternoon well spent it did have many positives: the chance to see three important 20th century dances pieces; the opportunity to see productions that visually were inspired by the revolutionary original designs; and the opportunity to hear three of the seminal pieces of 20th century music played by one of the world's top orchestras conducted by one of today's great conductors.  Conceptually and musically it was an exceptional afternoon - if only the dancing had been on the same level it would have been a great one.


26 May - 1938: Soprano Teresa Stratas is born in Toronto.

Mercoledi Musicale

When my friend Cathy posted this cartoon on Facebook earlier today it brought to mind one of those pieces that can easily become an ear-worm. And to be honest I'd never thought of the poor percussionist stuck on the snare drum for the full 15 minutes of Ravel's Boléro.

Though it is most often heard as an orchestral piece in the concert hall it was originally composed as a ballet for Ida Rubinstein in 1928.  Choreographer Bronislava Nijinska set her dance patterns to a rather flimsy scenario about a female dancer (Rubinstein) who mounts a table in a taverna in Spain at the insistence of the other dancers and becomes more and more abandoned in her movements.   Maurice Béjart, in perhaps the most famous version created in the late 20th century, echos some of that in a 15 minutes choreographic workout for a solo dancer (sometimes male/sometimes female) with some assistance from the corps that proves that dancers are more athletes than most athletes.

But I will be honest as much as I love the Béjart work I posted it once before several years ago; so when I went searching for a dance version on YouTube I was hoping to find a record of the piece that Peter Gennaro choreographed for the great Hollywood dancer Juliet Prowse.  It was the finale of her Las Vegas act for several outings and I recall seeing it at the MGM Grand back in the 1970s.  I still have the image of the complex finale - a stately procession across the stage, Prowse held aloft as her great black sequined cape (a Spanish funeral cape????) spread across the width of the stage and the whole (her and some 30 dancers) slowly descending from view into the depths of the stage floor.  It was the sort of thing that Las Vegas - and Prowse - did incredibly well before it all became a branch of Cirque de Soleil.  Though I recall she once performed it on The Ed Sullivan Show sadly it appears to not have been archived - though as I've found with YouTube you should never say never.

Unable to find the Prowse-Gennaro and not wanting to repeat the Béjart I found a version created by the French choreographer Roland Petit in 1997.  Danced by Lucia Lacarra and Massimo Murru on a barge in the harbour of Marseille, I find it lacks the dramatic intensity of Béjart's version.  I've always found Petit's choreography, with the exception of his Carmen,  had a certain coldness to it and often seemed mechanical and I'm afraid his Boléro is no different.  But then Ravel never liked Nijinka's creation - he felt it should have been set in the open air with a factory in the background and choreographed to reflect the mechanical nature of the music.  The barge setting definitely meets the open air requirement but that glorious night view across the Vieux-Port towards Notre-Dame de la Garde is magical more than mechanical.

Should you want to compare the two - and hear more of that insistent snare drum - here is a link to a performance by Nichola la Riche with the Ballet de l'Opéra National de Paris. 

23 January - 1943: Duke Ellington plays at Carnegie Hall in New York City for the first time.

Dance, Dance, Dance Little Lady

I think it can be agreed that dance - classical or modern - is an extremely expressive form: the movement of bodies and gestures can transmit a full range of emotions.   In narrative ballets the story is usually a very simple one and the emotions basic: Prince is bored, Prince goes hunting, Prince sees swan, Swan becomes human, Prince falls in love with Swan, love is thwarted by Evil Sorcerer, Swan is heartbroken, Prince and Swan die.  However if the story then involves the signing of a political alliance between two kingdoms, the warnings of a egalitarian cousin about economic troubles in the Kingdom, the nasty Countess who becomes the cast-off mistress because the Prince's father has found religion and a marriage is unconsummated because of phimosis things get a little more difficult for the dance creator and the dancers.

With a gesture that has appeared throughout the ballet Marie-Antoniette (Melody Mennite)
faces her fate with a new found dignity and acceptance.

And that is the problem with Marie the new (2009) full-length ballet based on the life of Marie Antoinette that the Houston Ballet brought to the National Arts Centre this past week.  There is just too much narrative and unless you were versed in the sociology-political-cultural  history of Europe in the 18th century you could be excused for being a bit confused.   When it is necessary to read the costume colour-coding published in the programme to identify characters then there is a problem. In a video introduction to Marie  choreographer (and company director) Stanton Welch remarks that he came up with the idea of a ballet based on a small segment of Marie-Antoinette's life then he found he "couldn't leave things out and the ballet grew and grew, until it became basically an abstract telling of her whole life".  Perhaps given the complexity of the tale he was trying to tell he should have stopped at the first "grew".

Now I can see my dear Simonetta raising an eyebrow and asking: but what about the great narrative ballets of the 19th century?   At the time they were created the gestures of pantomime were part of dance, drama and opera and audiences had a full understanding of them.  The scores of many of the 19th century ballets are filled with arrangements of melodies that would have been familiar to audiences - giving them an aural clue as to the action.  As the fashion for musical pastiche faded - even in the 1800s critics where complaining about the lack of original music in ballet scores - and stage acting became more natural lengthy pantomime sequences fell from favour and stories became more basic i.e. Prince is bored etc.

Melody Mennite as Marie-Antoinette

Today the language of pantomime - other than that practised by those irritating Marcel Marceau-want-to-bes who one can only wish would be trapped in a real glass box - is largely unknown; and though the score for Marie arranged by Ermanno Florio was a  "pastiche" taken from the works of Dmitri Shostokovitch, it would take a scholar to identify the aural clues, if indeed any were intended.  As a sidebar it would be interesting to see what sort of musical clue would/could have been used for poor Louis' medical condition.  Now "pastiche" is not a word I would have ever thought I'd write in the same sentence as the great Russian's name but it was an extremely beautiful score - how could it not be - and I only wish there had been a recording of it available.  It was a bit like  "Shostokovitch's Greatest Hits" in the style of the old Leopold Stokowski recordings.

But back to the dance.  It is when it is dealing with the most basic situations/emotions that Welch's choreography is its most successful.  Those are the four pas-de-deux for Marie and the two men in her story - Prince and Princess timidly approach their marital bed, Queen flirts and falls in love with toy boy, Queen sadly parts from toy boy, heart-broken Queen parts from husband.  When dealing with the court intrigues, the dissolute antics of Marie and her coterie and the pending unrest around them Welch does some interesting things but more often then not there was a temptation to laugh or at least snicker at some of the goings-on.  It would appear that the most outrageous things going on at Le Petit Trianon were bun fights, baguette sword fights, a penchant for gaudy pastel clothing and a bit of champagne guzzling.  Perhaps if the unrest that was rife in the country had appeared on the edges of the scene it would have had more impact but as it was it just seemed like mindless fun in the high-school cafeteria.  And initially when the revolution did break in on the insular world of Louis and Marie costuming and movement made it look more like a Zombie Apocalypse than the French Revolution.  However as the second act came to an end the intensity and tension suddenly built and carried over to the final act.

   An excerpt from the bedroom pas-de-deux from Act I of Maire: Melody Mennite 

and Ian Casady.  The music is from Shostokovitch's piano concert #1.

Much of that intensity came from Melody Mennite's Marie.  Never off-stage except for costume changes - and a few of those happened on stage - her Marie had a certain blandness for most of the first two acts but with her fall came a new depth in both her character and her dancing.  Also at this point Welch choreography gained in complexity and depth.   The earlier pas-de-deux - one with Ian Casady's Louis XVI as the Royal pair coupled was a little twee but did end in a touching kiss on the cheek that more than all the previous lifts and pirouettes told the story of Marie's relationship with Louis.  And that was one of Mennite's strengths - as well as being a technically fine dancer she is a fine actress.  This was more than apparent in the beginning of Act Three as Marie, stripped of all finery, sat with her back to the audience and was menaced by the crowd and the damning Citizen's Committee.  Her very stillness conveyed the terror and resolve of a woman who knew already what her fate would be.  The two pas de deux with Count Axel Fersen (Connor Walsh) had a sense of eroticism but it was the final pas de deux of parting with Louis that highlighted Mennite's ability as both a dancer and an actress.   The heart-break was palpable and the fact that we as an audience sat in silence for several beats before showing our appreciation spoke of the effect it had.

The company surrounding the three principles is a solid one however none of the dancers stood out from the crowd (Welsh's crowds were busy ones).  What did stand out where the production values - designer Kandis Cook had obviously given a generous budget and spent it lavishly but tastefully and with good effect.  As already mentioned the score was exceptionally beautiful and well-played by the NAC Orchestra under Jonathan McPhee.  And the mere fact that in this day and age of cutbacks to the arts worldwide that the company (61 dancers strong) could bring a production on this scale to us is a wonder.  But given what was being presented I can be forgiven for wishing that more resources had been put into creating a better piece of narrative dance.  As I said perhaps Welsh should have stopped at that first grew or when his piece grew to the size it had, taken a pair of judicious pruning shears to it and cut it back to the basic emotions.

21 October -  1910:  HMS Niobe arrives in Halifax Harbour to become the first ship of the Royal Canadian Navy.

Lunedi Lunacy

Back in the 50s when my father would take me downtown to the Imperial Theatre  (one of the grand old movie palaces in Toronto - marble sinks, two story high mirrored stairways, plush seats) to see first run movie amongst the most anticipated where anything with Danny Kaye.   Kaye was a master of the tongue twister, the slightly-frantic and the most wonderfully funny facial contortions that a 10 year old could ever want to see.

A true "movie palace" - the Imperial Theatre was pretty much this grand when my father and I went to see films there in the 1950s.  No longer used - as it was in this photo from the 1920s - as a vaudeville house it still retained all the grandeur that made a trip to the movies a special event.

On re-viewing its also apparent that his films were erudite, witty and never played down to their audience.  It was a time when "culture" wasn't considered a filthy word and if you included a ballet or operatic aria in your movie you weren't playing to the "elite".   Often the dance or musical interlude took the mickey out but in a loving, knowing way.

Perhaps the most spectacular dance sequences in any Kaye movie where those created for Zizi Jeanmarie and Erik Bruhn by Roland Petit (now that's class!) for Hans Christian Andersen that delightful 1952 fantasy based more on the stories of the Danish writer than his actual life.  But dance also figured - tongue very much in cheek - two years later in Knock on Wood.  As a neurotic American ventriloquist whose dummy seems to have taken over the act Kaye gets involved with spies, counter-spies and dead bodies.  He spends most of the film changing disguises as he runs for his life ending up in a ballet sequence that out-exotics anything that the Ballet Russes ever came up with.  Choreographed to a fare-the-well by Michael Kidd (more class) and featuring Diana Adams - of the New York City Ballet (even more class) - as a rather nonplussed prima ballerina partnered by a danseur less than nobile it is a brilliant send-up of all the cliches beloved of classical dance. 

I'm posting this with a big hug to my darling Simonetta - who drew me more into the world of dance than I had ever been and in the process gave me a new love and appreciation of it as an art and as an entertainment.  Baci cara and 1000 grazie!

May 7 - 1920 – The Art Gallery of Ontario, in Toronto, opens the first exhibition by the Group of Seven.

A Short Evening of Petit

December was an eventful month musically with much going on operatically, orchestrally and on the dance scene. Couple that with holiday happenings and schedule conflicts meant some things had to be missed. But some fancy footwork and manipulating of TrenItalia schedules did allow me to see a Riccardo Muti conducted Moïse et Pharon at the Teatro dell'Opera on my birthday and then make a run to La Scala for the new Die Walküre the next night. Observations on both those performances should follow shortly. I had been looking forward to the mid-month Academia Santa Cecilia Christmas concert - note not Holiday Concert but Christmas Concert - and the opportunity to hear both Arthur Honegger's Une cantate de Noël and the much talked about young baritone Jacques Imbrailo but other commitments made it impossible.

However I wasn't going to miss the opportunity to see Eleonora Abbagnato, the Sicilian born premiere danseuse, of the Paris Opéra Ballet in Roland Petit's L'Arlésienne at the Teatro dell'Opera. And the fact that it was being paired with Petit's ground-breaking Carmen starring Polina Semionova, one of my favourite dancers, made the evening a must-see. So on the second last night of the year our friends Simonetta, Brigitte, Lorraine, Simon and Laurent and I ensconced ourselves in a palco at the Teatro dell'Opera for una Serata Roland Petit.

Abbagnato is as much known here in Italy for her commercials and magazine appearances (including a few of the gossip rags) as she is for her dance work but that all falls in the shadows when she steps on stage. This is a dancer who has "star" in every step she takes and even her stillness has impact. Though the role of Vivette doesn't have the showy opportunities that Petit gives to his male dancer in this tale of obsessive love it is technically and theatrically one of nuance and Abbagnato makes every moment on stage electric.

As often happens at the Teatro dell'Opera the originally announced cast list qualified as a work of fiction - Benjamin Pech, Abbagnato's frequent partner in Paris, was scheduled to dance Frederi but was replaced by Alessandro Riga, a dancer who received his major training here in Roma. It was an impressive substitution. Petit's choreography for the village boy driven mad by his love for an unfaithful girl from Arlés requires virtuosity as both a dancer and an actor: after a slightly tentative beginning Riga delivered both. That final desperate descent into madness was electric and the suicidal leap breathtaking. He is listed as a "guest artist" for several productions in the coming months - it will be interesting to see him in other types of roles.

I had seen L'Arlésienne many years ago when Petit's Ballet de Marseilles brought it to Ottawa along with the Carmen that he had revived for Karen Kain. I don't recall it having the same impact as it did in this performance. Even with the less than stellar company of the Teatro dell'Opera the power of this piece of dance-making, with the central drama set within the framework of the folk-inspired movements of the Corps de Ballet, came through.

Here is Eleonora Abbagnato with her frequent partner (on and off stage) Jérémie Bélingard in the final scene of L'Arlésienne. Unfortunately it is split in two clips and the dark setting does obscure some of the complex leg work that Petit demands of the male dancer - but Bélingard is incredible in this performance as is Abbagnato in a quieter way.

My friend Simonetta and I turned to each other almost simultaneously at the end of the Carmen and muttered "dated". This is arguably Petit's most famous work and one of his earliest - it was created in 1949 for his Ballet de Paris and more particularly for his wife the great French ballerina-performer Zizi Jeanmarie. Looking at it now it is very much dance theatre of its time - even the once striking decor and costumes by Antoni Calvé have a musty feel to them. On the way home Laurent remarked that he kept thinking "Gene Kelly" and there was a certain truth to that - the choreography has a quality to it that marks it as a piece of dance from the 50s. Perhaps with a Carmen of more sensuality than Semionova - she's just too nice - and a José of more passion than Robert Tewsley it would have had more impact. I recall seeing Semionova and Roberto Bolle dancing the pas de deux at a Gala two years ago and feeling at that time that there was something missing. In both instances the technique was there but not the sexuality.

The company put a good deal of energy into the performance and notable amongst the gypsies, cigarette girls and riff-raff of Seville was Alessandra Amato as the chief bandit. She is a dancer who has demonstrated rare skill over the past few years and it has been interesting watching her develop. Hopefully the Company's new director, Micha van Hoeck, will give us more opportunity to see her in other roles.

Though there have been great dancers who have assumed the roles of Carmen and José there have never been any to challenge the sensuality and sexuality that Zizi and Petit brought to those first performances. Fortunately it was caught on film in Black Tights, a 1960 dance film that featured four dance pieces choreographed by Petit for Zizi, Moira Shearer and Cyd Charisse.

It was an enjoyable evening but as I made note in the title a rather short one. Perhaps budgetary constraints stopped van Hoecke from programming a third Petit work to fill out the evening. It would have been interesting to see another of his works - Le Loup, Le jeune homme et la mort or even the Company's lead male dancer Mario Marozzi in Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune which he danced here several years ago. However given the current financial situation - the Company is only presenting 4 programmes this season - I should just thank the gods he was able to give us an evening of dance at all.

04 gennaio - Beata Angela da Foligno

Lunedi Lunacy

I was working on my ballet translations this weekend and came across a perfect Lunedi Lunacy and was all set to post it then realized it would be funnier if the source was there for comparison.

In 1905 Mikail Folkine choreographed a small piece for Anna Pavlova which was to become her trademark: The Dying Swan. It has been passed down as a show piece for generations of ballerinas, each one adding her own layer to the original. It is still considered to be one of the major test pieces before any dancer can be truly considered a Prima ballerina assoluta.

Back in 1959 the incredible impresario Sol Hurok brought the Bolshoi Ballet to North America. It was the first major cultural crack in the Iron Curtain. They came to Toronto which in those days didn't have a major theatre so performances took place in Maple Leaf Gardens - the home hockey rink of the Toronto Team. The Gardens was the site of many cultural events at the time - the Metropolitan Opera played there every spring, the Royal Ballet danced there and I saw Maria Callas in concert there. A stage was erected at one end of the arena, baffling hung and seating installed on the rink surface. I could never afford the seats on the floor so my vantage point was always from high up in the Grey section where binoculars were a must. That spring of 1959 I trained them on the dancers from Moscow for two performances and saw (?) the great Galina Ulanova as Giselle one evening and the incomparable Maya Plisetskaya in Swan Lake the next afternoon. I saw Plisetskaya on only one other occasion several years later when Toronto finally had a theatre and the Bolshoi brought a mixed programme to the stage. She was dancing that signature piece and there was no question that she was a Prima Ballerina Assoluta!




Another dance company that also dropped in - well more like crashed in - for the occasional visit was the Ballet Trockadero de Monte Carlo - the Trocs. This group of drag dancers has been taking the piss out of classical dance for years. And as anyone knows you can't properly take the piss out of something unless you are a master of it - and these guys are all fine classically trained dancers.

Each of their Primi Ballerini has performed their own unique version of the Fokine-Pavlova classic. My first experience was seeing the remarkable Ida Nevasayneva swan to her death to great acclaim. Here one of their more recent dancers, Maya Thickenthighya, has put her own spin on the demise of the Cygnus ballerinus. And believe it or not I've seen curtain calls exactly like that - but they were serious!



While searching for information on the Dying Swan I came across this article in the Independent. Dame Nanette de Valois had spent her early years as a dancer with Pavlova and it appears notated her performances. It follows the passing on of a dance from one generation of dancer to another.

27 settembre - San Vincenzo de'Paoli

A Few of My Favorite Things - Theatre Memorabilia

I mentioned earlier today about stopping in at our friends Simonetta and Renato's on Christmas Day. Simonetta works with us at the Embassy but as well as being a colleague has become a close friend. Through her I have become more closely associated with the dance world. She has been both a dance critic and writer on dance for many years and seems to know everyone in the dance world.

And she is the one who got me involved in translating for Ballet2000 - a tri-lingual dance magazine published out of Nice. Its hard work but it has taught me a lot in the past six months - about language and dance. Though I have been going to the ballet since I was five I am developing a deeper understanding of what is perhaps one of the most ephemeral of the arts. And for that I can thank Simonetta.


For that and a charming little book that she left under our tree a day or two before Christmas. The Natural World of the Ballet Girl is a tongue in cheek little tome tracing the life of a Victorian ballet dancer. Not some great Prima Ballerina but a simple girl who dances in the corps de ballet - sometimes as a village girl, or one of the Ballerina's friends or a lady of the court. Her's is a life of dusty, drafty stages, demanding ballet masters, the smell of greasepaint mixed with lamp oil, shared digs, small pay packets and often indecent proposals. Despite its slightly wry tone it accurately reflects the almost Dickensian life of a dancer of the period.

Before Diaghilev and the Ballet Russes made dance a form of high art to the English , ballet was seen more often in the Musical Hall than the theatre. The Empire Theatre in Leister Square lead the way with ballets based on French models such as Coppelia as well as their own creations. The themes could vary from fairy tales to mythology to allegories to celebrations of current happenings. Productions were elaborate: settings replete with special effects, waterfalls, transformations, flying dancers, processions, beautiful costumes and scores written by famous composers of the period.

Amongst her many dance related treasures Simonetta has this rather appropriate photograph from 1902 in her collection. Our Crown was an Empire Theatre ballet created to celebrate the coronation of Edward VII. As well as cities and counties of the United Kingdom countries of the Commonwealth joined in this paean to the House of Saxe-Cobourg-Gotha and its new ruler.


And Miss Emille Tree - attired for the bitter winter in fur, adorned with symbols of the Dominion and armed for the hunt - proudly represents Canada. I do wonder how long she would have lasted in those tights in an Ottawa January? Fur leggings would be more useful but then the gentlemen in the stalls would have had nothing to train their opera glasses on! And despite Mr. Smith's warning to lascivious Gents in The Natural History that was one of the appeals of Victorian ballet.

29 decembre - San Davide

Mercoledi Musicale Plus

Last evening was a great evening and also a sobering one for ballet fans here in Rome. Because of budget cuts we were denied a revival of a piece of Soviet dance history but given the opportunity to see a current Russian dance legend. And the presence of that legend make us acutely aware of the weakness of our resident company.

When she was forced to delay the revival of The Red Poppy until next February, company director Carla Fracci pulled several rabbits out of her toe shoes. Yes we were going to see added performances of the already scheduled umpteenth revival of Swan Lake but several were to star Svetlana Zakharova the reigning Queen of Russian ballet. And for the two of the performances she snagged the Feijoo sisters Lorena and Lorna , who are stars in their own right, to alternate the roles of Good Swan/Bad Swan.

I attended Zakharova's final performance last night and was blown out of my palco by the incredible technique and charismatic stage presence that have made her the idol of balletomanes around the world. Not since Maya Plisetskaya - in my first Swan Lake back in 1959 - have I seen a dancer who made me so so aware that Odette is a woman trapped in a swan's body or that Odile is a cold reflection of that sad woman. The movements for each though similar had a subtle difference - the White Swan's soft and lyrical, almost liquid when danced by the Black Swan were sharper, more brittle with the cold brillance of a diamond.

Here she is partnered by a talent the equal of her's, Roberto Bolle, in the Pas D'Action from Act 2.



In this performance from Rome in 2003 she is partnered in the "Black Swan" pas de deux by Eugene Ivanchenko.



Many of the commentors on various ballet blogs seem to find her performance of the 32 fouettes lacking but certainly last evening she whipped them off with aplomb and finesse. Again here she is in 2003 and we even get a bit of Carla Fracci grandstanding it as the Queen Mother.



Unfortunately last evening she was not partnered with the same elegance or presence that certainly Bolle and to a certain extent Ivanchenko brought to the role of the Prince. The Rome Opera Ballet uses Galina Samsova's choreography which turns the Prince into pretty much a human barre for the prima ballerina and gives all the spectacular stuff to his friend Benno. Andrei Uvarov seemed to be sleep walking through much of the performance and had little of the prince about him. Although he is a product of the Russian school he is more in the stolid old-fashioned Bolshoi style as opposed to Zakharova's more lyric Kirov style. Fortunately Vito Mazzeo was dancing the Benno and brought some of the air of a Premier Danseur to the stage. Also of note was the Foreign Princess variation of Alessandra Amato. Both these young dancers had performed the lead roles earlier in run.

I am almost tempted to attend tonight's performance to see the twins however the problem of bringing in stars of the caliber of the Feijoos and Zakharova is that it throws the limitation of our home company into stark relief. This was the first time my companion for the evening, an alumni of the National Ballet School of Canada, had seen the Rome Opera Ballet. She commented that there seemed to be little common style and that many of the dancers behaved if though they were still in the rehearsal studio rather than on stage in what is purportedly a major Italian theatre. And I have to agree with her - with the exception of Amato and Mazzeo the general level of performance by the company is not what should be expected of a major dance company.

And though I adored her in her days as Prima Ballerina Assoluta and admire much of what she has done as Director of the Company it really is time that Carla Fracci unstrung the slippers and stopped trying to hog centre stage. The ballet is called Swan Lake not The Queen Mother Gives a Ball. One questions why, when she does not appear in Act 4, she needs to take a curtain call at the end of the performance when everyone else had taken theirs at the end of Act 3. And why does she have to take a call at the end of every performance I have seen in the past two years whither she is dancing or not? I am as nostalgic as the next theatre/dance/opera/concert nut but there does come a point when it is necessary to say: Basta! Enough!

And there was one ungracious gesture during the final calls that was totally unwarranted and almost insulting to the guest artist. An unnecessary and unworthy action!

02 decembre - Santa Bibiena

Things to Come - Musical

I wrote this introduction back on September 5 - and never got around to completing the post. Thought I'd keep it and finish off what I was going to say.

Now that feragosto is over things are returning to normal - or a least normal for Rome. Over the past week shops, bars, trattorias and super markets have been reopening or going back to regular hours, though a few places are still doing half-day Saturdays. Just a word on shop hours here - most places are open from 1000 until 1300 or 1330 then open again at 1530 or 1600 until 2000. Many places close on Saturday at 1300 or 1330 and most are not open on Sunday. Trattoria and restaurants are open from 1230 until 1500 for lunch and 1930-2000 often until last guest for dinner. It takes some getting use to - and we have had colleagues who just never catch on - but after a while it makes perfect sense.

Traffic has also returned to normal. During feragosto it was quiet, there were days when you could cross Via Nomentana and not see a car from Porta Pia to the bend at the Russian Embassy - about 3 kms; the hornet hum of motorinos was a mere buzz and the blaring sirens of ambulances heading to near-by Policlinico were few and far between. This morning as we sat with our friend Walter on Regina Margherita everything was as it is for 11 months of the year.

It is now a month later and believe me everything is really back as it was - for better or for worse. But what is for better is that the music season has started. Both the ballet and the opera are back in operation - if on reduced schedules because of the budget cuts. So here's a few things on my calender for the next little while.

• La Gitana, a 19th century ballet premiered in 1836 in St. Petersburg, is on the cards for this weekend. One of the fine things that former Prima Ballerina Carla Fracci has done with the company here is to revive or re-stage some works that are known only from the history books. They are presented at the small Teatro Natzionale with a reduced company of dancers and orchestra but with fine production values. Next in the series will be August Bournenville's La Sylphide (Maria Taglioni as the Sylph 18th century print) which I recall seeing many years ago in Toronto with the magnificent Eric Bruhn. As well come November we will get a full staging of The Red Poppy - one of those ballets from the Soviet era about the poor Chinese girl trapped in the Western-based opium trade but saved by the love of a Soviet sailor. I recall the Bolshoi performing it - to general derision - when they first toured North America in 1959.
  

• The fall season at the Teatro dell'Opera has opened with Debussy's Pelleas et Melisande - and I just saw the cast list and we are getting the second cast. As I have mentioned before most operas here are double cast and you pays your money and takes your chances. That is not to say second casts are bad casts just not necessarily the ones you want to see. And this time around I am frankly disappointed: all the singers are Italian in what is one of the quintessential French operas. The first cast was a top notch French one - this is one time when I honestly feel double casting is a rip off. And it will interesting to see how Maestro Gelmetti and his orchestra handle a work that is really not in their blood.
  


• Then I'll be off to Athens in mid-month to visit my friends Yannis and Fotis and go to the ... wait for it... opera. I shouldn't feel ripped off there, one of my operatic idols Anna Caterina Antonacci (left) - who I saw this time last year in Medea - will be singing Gluck's Alceste. And American tenor Gregory Knude is in the cast as well - he was so remarkable in Zelmira at this year's Rossini Fesival. They are doing the French version which I've never heard and Fotis promises me that there may be a chance of making a fool of myself over Mme Antonacci after the performance. He made good on his promise with Agnes Baltsa so... problem is that I am known for saying the wrong thing as I abase myself before celebrities. I will have the infamous Marilyn Horne Ottawa 1986 exchange forever on my conscience.
  


• I'm hoping to get up to the Verdi Festival for the Nabucco but tickets are currently not showing as available but I'll keep trying. I always enjoy Parma - the city, the food (yes Dora the ham!) and the Festival.


• Our concert season starts at the Academia at the end of the month and though it may not be as starry a season as last year its still a pretty good line up. A Russian mini-Festival, under the rather romantic title Passione Russa, will be highlighting some of the better and lesser known works of Čajkovskij, Rachmaninoff and company. Most will be conducted by music director Antonio Pappano (left, photo courtesy OC) though Opera Chic's Uncle Solly - Yuri Termirkanov - is going to show us how the natives do it on at least one occasion. Michael Tilson Thomas will give us his thoughts on the 9th as part of an on-going Beethoven Fest. And Wayne Marshall, who blew us out of our seats literally last year with a very loud Porgy and Bess, is returning to try his hand at Bernstein and Broadway. Claudio Abbado plans to be a bit more traditional with his Mozart and Mendelssohn's Italian. Vladimir Jurowsky with take us to Firezne with a concert performance of Gianni Schicchi starring Juan Pons. Pappano comes back in his yearly foray into Mahler and Georges Prêtre promises to take us through some Brahms. And that's just our subscription, there's a whole pile of other stuff going on throughout the season.


• The rest of the season is up in the air where opera is concerned. The budget cuts mean that many of Italy's opera houses have no idea what will be happening come the new year. Rome has given hints but a recent letter from Genova suggested they may have to close the house for the rest of the season. La Fenice still hasn't said anything about the new season nor has San Carlo. Bologna and La Scala have both put out their calenders but without much to raise the old opera queen's operaphile's interest though I will definitely go up to Milan to see From the House of the Dead. Palermo may have some interesting things coming up and we are planning to go to Sicily at some point in the new year but other than that nothing else has captured my attention. But then, of course my dear Opera Chic will probably write about something and I'll be rushing to Termini to catch a train to Cremona or Bolzano or Trieste.
  

Other than that nothing much planned musically over the next little while.

04 ottobre - San Francesco d'Assisi - Patrono d'Italia

Io Sono Ammalato

Now just imagine that said with a throb in the voice and a clutching of the throat - sounds better than "I'm sick" doesn't it? I was all set to post about the glorious day in the spring-like weather on Tuesday with pictures of happy patrons at outside cafés etc when this flu hit Wednesday morning.

And of course it couldn't have come at a worse time - we've got a lot going on in the next few days.

• Tonight is our first subscription ballet night - a rather strange evening built around works designed by the Greek-Italian Surrealist Giorgio de Chirico.
  Set design for Bacchus e Ariane by Giorgio de Chirico (Source: Rome Opera)
  
  Its a varied programme involving the disparate talents of Igor Stravinsky, Albert Rousell, Vittorio Reiti, Serge Lifar, George Balanchine and Luigi Pirandello. Aside from the Stravinsky-Lifar Appollon I can honestly say I only recall reading about the other ballets as Ballets Russefootnotes. Next week we'll be getting three ballets designed by Picasso.



• Tommorrow night is our regular night at the Academia de Santa Ciecila and the promise of the Brahms Symphonies 1 and 2 conducted by Antonio Papano. The season thus far has been plagued with cancellations and not all that memorable.
  However last month's concert with Maurizio Pollini doing the Brahms Number 1 Piano Concerto was a truly moving experience. He's such an unassuming man - slightly stooped and almost apologetic as he approaches the piano. Then he sits down, his fingers touch the keys and he becomes a Titan. Jack tried to get a few shots with his Cell camera during the curtain calls but none of them turned out except this one of Pollini with his back to us.



• As this horrid flu was starting to take affect I turned to some of my favorite bloggers (many of whom seemed to have the same thing - could it be a real computer virus????) for solace and comfort. OC, that divine diva of Opera Bloggers, had just come back from opening night at La Scala of Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac with Placido Domingo. Even before she had her Prada heels off she was writing a quick review that sent me running to the La Scala website. There were a few tickets left for this Tuesday's performance. Snapped one up real quick like; navigated the shoals of the treacherous TrenItalia website to book a train (its only 4 hours 30 minutes) and used travel points to get a hotel near the opera house. When I read her complete review I knew I had made the right choice. As OC observes Domingo is approaching his 70s and we can't expect him to go on forever, so this may be the last chance I'll have to see him on stage. I know it won't be the voice I heard in 1976 in SFO or Paris in 1986 but I do know that he is still the greatest tenor around and it will a spectacular event. I am getting antsy with anticipation.
  
  (Photo from Royal Opera House Covent Garden - Catherine Ashmore)

So I really have to pull myself together and get right over it. None of this wallowing in self-pity that man-flu would normally demand; though when I'm sick I just like to be left alone. So just let me go and die in my own manner just promise me the body will be given a decent burial.

01 febbraio - San Orso

The Traditions of Christmas - The Nutcracker II

In his preface to a 1984 translation by Ralph Manhem of E. T. A. Hoffmann's The Nutcracker illustrator Maurice Sendak, who had based his drawings on set and costumes he created for Pacific Northwest Ballet production of the Christmas favorite, comments:

Tchaikovsky, understandably disappointed in the scenario, proceeded to compose a score that in overtone and erotic suggestion is happily closer to Hoffman than Dumas. His music, bristling with implied action, has a subtext alive with wild child cries and belly noises. It is rare and genuine and does justice to the private world of children. One can, after all, count on the instincts of a genius.

I saw my first Nutcracker in 1952 at the age of six in a very traditional production by the National Ballet of Canada. They followed the story that Ivan Vsevolojsky had created from an Alexandre Dumas-père version of E.T.A. Hoffmann's novella: Clara is given a Nutcracker, Christmas Eve the Nutcracker with her help defeats the Mouse King, The Nutcracker turns into a Prince and takes her through the Land of the Snow to the Kingdom of Sweets, she wakes up and it was all a dream. Not very exciting as stories go and certainly no where near the complexity or drama of Hoffmann's original and certainly no equal for that score. Since that first production in 1891 many great choreographers - Balanchine, Cranko, Nureyev, Bourne, Bèjart, Petit - have adapted, changed or completely thrown over Lev Ivanov and Marius Petipa's original dances and Vsevolojsky bland scenario in attempts to match Tchaikovsky's ravishing music.

I'm struck by the phrase "erotic suggestion" that Sendak uses - I have always thought that the two great pas de deux are amongst the most erotic and sexual music every written.



The first act transformation of the Nutcracker into the handsome prince of Clara's dreams throbs with sexual awakening - and nowhere is that more apparent than in this performance by Merle Park and Rudolf Nureyev. Later dancers may perform Nureyev's choreography with more grace but few have the same raw passion.



Equally the music for the Act II Grand Pas de Deux has a startling sexuality for a dance between a spun sugar fairy and her cavalier. When I listen to it I hear two people making love; it builds from gentle foreplay to climax - listen to those almost out of control flutes - to the final shudders of after play. Even in this beautiful but slightly aloof performance by Miyako Oshia and Jonathan Cope I find the eroticism of two bodies in tune with each other and the music highly sexual.

Tchaikovsky may have been writing to an insipid scenario but Sendak is right about "the instincts of genius."

23 decembre - IVa domenica di avvento

Extravagance ... and Optimism

In a gesture of extravagance and optimism I purchased a box for the Opera and Ballet for the coming year. Extravagance because a box is five seats and we are only two but this way we can invite friends or visitors to come out for the evening with us. And I'll never had this chance again - our own box (10D) at the opera! Damn the expense I say! Optimism because I am saying that on December 11, 2008 I'll be alive, well and able to attend Otello. But to be honest if I don't book subscriptions we will end up not going. Its happened so often in other places: Oh look the bus-truck production of the hit musical In Cold Blood is coming to town, we must get tickets. Oh damn that was last week.

Okay Roma isn't La Scala - hell I guess its not even La Fenice or San Carlo - but at least here you have a chance of getting a seat as most transactions still have to be done at the box office. There are a few other opera houses, that will remain nameless, were the only people who seem to have seats are the scalpers. The minute seats go on the Internet they are snatched up - and how exactly at 2 per customer do those totes outside the theatre end up with rolls of 10 to 12?? The big subscription booster this year is the Muti Otello scheduled to open December 6, 2008 - on the strength of that one production alone the subscription series appear to be sold out and all five performance will be standing room only. I guess I'm not alone in my optimism.

So we now have subscriptions to the Opera, the Ballet and the Accademia Ste Ceciela which guarantees that at least three times a month we'll turn off the fascinating Italian quiz shows, get off our asses and get out on the town. However friends and acquaintenances should note, we are still available the rest of the month for dinner parties, cinema and pizza forays.

06 decembre - San Nichola di Bari

After the Bolle's Over

Well last night was the night, Roberto came to Roma and the town succumbed. Teatro dell'Opera was packed - not a poltroni or palci to be had - with the great, the near great and the "don't I just think I'm great!" There were insane Italian TV personalities, Bolle-boppers of both sexes, Government Ministers, movers in the arts world, dancers - we shared our box with a lovely ex-dancer and her husband - and then those of us that just wanted to see the ballet... oh okay and Bolle.

And make no mistake Bolle was the reason we were there and he knew it but in a rather modest self-effacing way. He shared the stage with 10 other dancers - all leading dancers with their respective companies - and only appeared in four of the eleven numbers. It was a mixed programme with a fascinating range of choreography: from the Romantic (the Petipa Esmeralda and Swan Lake, the Coralli/Perrot Giselle) to 20th century classics (Petit's Carmen and MacMillan's Manon) to the modern (John Neumeier, Jiri Kylian, Jiri Bubenieck and Ben Van Cauwenbergh.)

Highlights? Well of the Bolle's bits the Carmen with Polina Seminova was well done if slightly cool (but then no one sizzled in Carmen quite like Zizi.) But the Manon finale with the Royal Ballet's Mara Galeazzi tore the place apart. The impassioned dance that MacMillan created for Des Grieux and the dying Manon blazed across the stage with raw intensity - God I wish I had seen Bolle and Ferri in it.

The rest of the selections were well danced but the two that grabbed the audience's attention the most were a male pas de deux and a male pas de trois. Neurmeier's Opus 100 for Morice danced by Otto Bubenicek and Ivan Urban, a simple but beautiful tribute to friendship and affection was brilliantly danced to the music of Simon and Garfunkel (Friends and Bridge Over Troubled Waters.) Equally well received was Jiri Bubenieck's Le Souffle de L'Esprit with Urban and Bubenicek joined by Alexandre Riabko dancing an exuberant number to the Pachabel Cannon. All three are with the Hamburg Ballet which suggests they have a very strong group of male soloists. Kylian's Bella Figura as danced by the Nederlands Dans Theater's Natasha Novotna and Vaclav Kunes had some stunning visual moments. And Novotna closed the evening with Bolle in Kylian's Petite Mort which was a stunning opportunity to admire their joint technique and Bolle's near naked body. But understand we were there for the ballet!

The only gripe about the evening - the recorded music. It worked in the modern dances but worked against the dancers in the classical pas de deux. Normally a ballet conductor bases the tempi on the dancers, here the dancers were at times forcing themselves to keep up with the recorded tempi. And Roberto could have given us an encore!

There were only three ad pages in the nicely done free programme - the one above, another for a 5 star Hotel in Rome and the one below.


Bolle was appointed a UNICEF Ambassador several years ago and has shown special support for children of the Sudan.

04 decembre - Santa Barbara

You Shall Go to the Bolle Cinderella

Well I was expecting the Roberto Bolle Gala at the Teatro dell'Opera to be sold out within minutes of tickets going online but the listing still hasn't appeared as of noon today. As I was heading to Centro to get my hair cut - when you find a "barbiere di qualita" who can do something with what's left of my hair you stay with him not matter the distance - I dropped in at the Box Office and was able to pick up extremely good seats about an hour after sales had opened. I'm not sure why its not selling out given the amount of publicity our boy Bobby is getting these days but it could be the high (for Rome) price of tickets.



Thought I would just post this video of a scene from Excelsior with Bolle (fully dressed for a change)mostly because of its kitsch value. This was the great hit in the 1880s and celebrates the progress of the 19th into the 20th century: Electricity, light, the telegraph, the steam engine, the Brooklyn Bridge(!!!), tunnels linking France and Italy, the Suez Canal are all recreated in a series of tableaux. It's been referred to as Le Cosaire meets H.G. Wells and it looks like great fun. Its in the repetorie of La Scala and I'm just hoping they revive it sometime in the next four years.

08 novembre - San Goffredo

Bolled Over

It's just been announced that Roberto Bolle, the incredible Italian ballet star, will be appearing here December 8th - the day before my birthday - in a ballet Gala. I've suggested to Laurent that since he didn't get me tickets for opening night at La Scala (only E1500 a seat) for my 60th last year that it would only be right if he lined up at 0600 next Wednesday when tickets go on sale for the Gala.



Now understand this has nothing to do with the fact that Bolle is f...g gorgeous and has a body that a less cultured person would think of doing all sorts of unsavory barre exercises with. He's one of the top male dancers in the world today and I've wanted to see him dance since I first read about his appearances in London back almost 8 years ago.



And he's f....g gorgeous and has a body that a less cultured person would think of doing all sorts of unsavory barre exercises with!

1 novembre - Ognissanti