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Giselle (American Ballet Theatre)by Mary Cargill Among the many casts of American Ballet Theatre's Giselle, Amanda McKerrow and Vladimir Malakhov's single appearance, at a Wednesday matinee was extraordinarily moving. McKerrow is a small, deceptively fragile dancer and a natural, convincing actress. Malakhov as Count Albrecht (he has been expelled from his Dukedom in this production) was equally unforced and believable. This Giselle was the story of two country people, who are then transported into a magical realm; it was as if Trollope had written one of Grimm's fairy tales. McKerrow is a master of portraying innocence, one of the most difficult of emotions to perform convincingly. She never wandered off into cloying sweetness or artificiality, and though every detail had clearly been worked out, gave the appearance of complete spontaneity. She seemed to be ready to burst with gentle joy during the crowning scene and her face just lit up whenever she looked at Albrecht. The technical tour de force of the hopping on point was danced only for him, as if her feet were an extension of her beating heart.
Malakhov's Albrecht was young and casual at the beginning, certainly aware of what he was doing, thanks to Clinton Luckett's desperate and moral force as Wilfred, but he was not a callous and practiced seducer (who would probably not have been attracted to McKerrow's retiring and modest Giselle anyway). It was as if Albrecht fell in love unexpectedly, realizing his situation in the middle of the first act.
Malakhov started to swear his eternal love casually, looked at Giselle, and suddenly realized he could not abandon her. He seemed to dance the rest of the act in a desperate fog, trying to figure out how he could possibly keep Giselle. This hidden panic made poor Giselle's blissful oblivion during the harvest scene even more tragic. During the mad scene, which McKerrow underplayed to great effect-Giselle is no drama queen-Albrecht tried desperately to reassure her and to ask for her forgiveness. Malakhov could not even bring himself to kiss Bathilde's hand, dropping it with near disgust while looking pleadingly at Giselle.
The magical second act grew naturally out of the characters developed in the first. McKerrow remained a simple, loving peasant girl. Unlike so many other Giselles, she didn't go through the second act wearing an invisible crown and trailing imaginary moss. It is no slight to the dancing, which was very good, to say that the technique was secondary to the overwhelming sense of sadness at the fate of these two very real people.