Sleeping Beauty (Kirov Ballet)
by Mary Cargill
The 1890 production of Marius Petipa's
Sleeping Beauty is without a doubt the most important
ballet of the 20th century, for without it and its effect on
the St. Petersburg intelligentsia there would have been no Diaghilev
Ballet, and thus no Royal Ballet, no ABT, and no New York City
Ballet. It was this production that inspired Pavlova to
become a dancer, and without Pavlova, there would have been no
Ashton. And it was as a cherub in the last act of this
production that Balanchine learned the magnificent possibilities
of classical ballet.
This miraculous production has
been heroically recreated as accurately as possible from the
set and costume designs and from the choreographic notations
of the original production. Everyone interested in ballet
history was eagerly awaiting the Kirov's visit, primed to welcome
the Beauty back home. But the real question was
how would a nineteenth century production, with the longer tutus,
heeled shoes, elaborate headgear, and extensive mime, look to
twentieth century eyes. The answer is "magnificent".
I have seen the past and it works.
The sets are mainly painted flats,
with intricate but not massive architectural detail, and long
luxurious perspectives. They set the scene, but do not
overwhelm the action, and serve as a canvas for the costumes.
The courtiers' costumes are infinitely varied and make an interesting
and harmonious stage picture, with just a few bright spots of
red for spice. Though of course they left the corsets in
the museum, the tutus are mid-thigh and soft, so they echo the
movement of the dancing. The various headpieces the dancers
wear draw attention to their noble carriage. And the final
tableaux, where the view of Versailles seems to rise into the
clouds in perfect harmony with Tchaikovsky's magnificent music,
is one of the most effective and moving pieces of theater I have
seen.
The production is generous (it
lasts almost four hours), but the pacing, following Petipa's
scenario, is so perfect it seems much shorter. In fact
I wish it could have been longer; the famous panorama of the
Prince's journey to Aurora's castle had to be left in St. Petersburg.
The changes in the structure from
more familiar versions all work. Carabosse, having
already been defeated, does not skulk around during the awakening
scene (as she does in may productions), which is a magical pageant.
Listening to the music, I realized Carabosse was not there--it
is mysterious and expectant, but there is no danger in it.
In this production, the emphasis on the awakening is all on Aurora.
Carabosse, too, is invited to the wedding, quite appropriately,
since order and harmony have been restored.
The knitting ladies' scene has
been extended at the beginning of the first act. The 6
girls knit doing a charming clog dance, are caught, and condemned
to death by the King. He now has a long mime scene, to
unfamiliar but absolutely lovely music, where we see a loving
father waver between justice and mercy. Mercy wins, and
the peasants celebrate in a joyous garland dance.
The structure of this act is so
perfect, moving from the pathos of the knitting ladies, to the
joy of the garland dance, to the excitement of the Rose Adagio,
to the tragedy of Aurora's death, and finally to the serenity
of the Lilac Fairy's blessing.
The vision scene differs from the
pure white romantic abstraction we are used to. It takes
place in the same forest that the hunt scene did; there is no
transformation to a dream world, and the corps are wearing green
tutus. They are dryads, after all. This locates the
scene and anchors it to the natural world. And nature,
of course, is one of the guiding forces of the ballet.
The prince keeps his hat and his jacket on, and he wears (at
least when danced by Igor Zelensky) heeled boots, which makes
him seem like a real person surrounded by magical creatures,
not a ballet dancer in the middle of an abstract ballet.
It looked like the most beautiful of fairy tale illustrations
come to life. Unfortunately Andrian Fadeyev, at the second
performance Tuesday evening, substituted ballet boots in this
act, and he seemed to be searching more for fifth position than
for Aurora.
Production styles are easier to
recreate than dancing styles, and the current Kirov model of
extreme thinness and hyper-flexibility did divide opinion.
I agreed with those who found the 180 degree extension in the
Rose Adagio and vision scene distorting and distracting.
Those gorgeous tutus don't look elegant flopped over a dancer's
rear end.
The mime, too, was a bit perfunctory.
The extended mime scenes (so important for the flow and variety
of this ballet) are not part of the Kirov's recent heritage,
and they have only been dancing this version a short time; surely
richness and nuance will come with experience. But this
production is as close to perfect as I ever expect to find and
it is an honor and a privilege to get the chance to see it; this
Sleeping Beauty is a ballet for adults of all ages.