Ballets Russes
Le Spectre de la Rose / L’après-midi d’un faune / Le Tricorne / Petrouchka
Paris Opera Ballet
Opéra Garnier, Paris
18 December 2009
The centenary of the Ballets Russes has provided ballet companies with the opportunity to revive great works, many of them routinely achieving what eludes most creations today: an alchemy born not only of choreography, but also of music and design. The credits for the Paris Opera Ballet’s latest triple bill form a Who’s Who of ballet in the 1910s: Nijinsky, Fokine, Massine, Picasso, Bakst, Benois, Stravinsky, not to mention the dancers that once shared the stage with them. Where the works stand, however, today’s performers don’t always relate to the character flavor of the choreography, despite the glittering array of Principals on display for the filmed performances of the run.
Le Spectre de la Rose is an important work, perhaps the first manifestation of a woman’s desire in classical dance, but it is also the one piece on the program that seemed in serious need of a new design. The girl’s bonnet is now faded, old-fashioned in an intrusive way, while the Rose’s pale unitard and its pink petals only serve to make the feminine lines of today’s performers more obvious. Or is it just that we have lost something essential – the rich metaphor once conveyed by Nijinsky and Tamara Karsavina? On the basis of this performance, it is quite likely. Matthias Heymann turns the Rose into a jumping exercise – his eyes tend to go dead, and while he has clearly worked on his ports de bras, a certain stiffness remains. His partnering is also remarkably pedestrian – when the girl reaches out for him, he is happy to catch his breath for a minute behind her. His Rose is devoid of any perfume, but then – why throw him into a filmed performance so young, when comparisons will be made? Isabelle Ciaravola, now 37, but made an Etoile the same night as Heymann, gives a sensitive performance. Delicate and shy when she enters, she looks stunningly young as the young girl dreaming about her rose. There’s a hint of French 19th-century romanticism about her, and although she works her unnaturally arched feet to the point of distortion, her sense of wonder brings some meaning to a pale Spectre. (…)
» Read the full review in Ballet.co Magazine
Benjamin Pech in Petrouchka © Sébastien Mathé / Opéra National de Paris
