July 5, 2011

Review: Jazzy Distortions (Wayne McGregor in Paris)

L’anatomie de la sensation
Choreography: Wayne McGregor
Paris Opera Ballet
Opéra Bastille, Paris
July 2, 2011

Don’t be put off by the pompous title or the strike currently playing havoc with Paris Opera performances: Wayne McGregor’s first evening-length creation for a ballet company, L’anatomie de la sensation, is a welcome surprise at the end of a rather pedestrian season. After a glacial first collaboration with the POB in 2007, Genus, this work for eleven soloists and a corps de ballet has uneven moments but brims with a more relaxed inventiveness.

Billed as a tribute to Francis Bacon, the piece intermittently references the painter, with silent screams among the corps de ballet and bursts of violence in one pas de deux. McGregor’s work, however, is too idiosyncratic to take the connection much further, and relies on his customary bright, minimalist sets and costumes for visual effect. Instead, the driving force in L’anatomie is the score, Mark-Anthony Turnage’s own homage to Bacon, Blood on the Floor. Its jazzy accents bring out a new playfulness in McGregor’s customary menu of fast, quirky, hyper-articulated twists and turns, and this light touch works particularly well in the eighth movement, “Crackdown”, where Alice Renavand’s zippy pointe work and seeming improvisations with Josua Hoffalt light up the stage. (…)

» Read the full review in the Financial Times

Jérémie Bélingard & Matthias Heymann in Lanatomie de la sensation © Anne Deniau

Jérémie Bélingard & Matthias Heymann in L'anatomie de la sensation © Anne Deniau





October 24, 2010

Review: The Spirit and Myths of Post-War France

Le Rendez-vous / Le Loup / Le Jeune homme et la mort
Choreography: Roland Petit
Paris Opera Ballet
Palais Garnier
September 25, 2010

Essentially French: perhaps the first words that come to mind when the curtain raises on a recreation of the black and white Paris so often seen on French postcards, the setting for Le Rendez-vous. But far from being just a nostalgic trip back in time, the Roland Petit triple bill with which the Paris Opera Ballet opened its 2010-11 season brings back the collaborative spirit of a seminal, arguably glorious era. Picasso, Prévert, Brassaï, Cocteau, Jean Anouilh all contributed something to the works on offer, a curtain here, a wonderfully Surrealist plotline there. The perfume and myths of old France emerge naturally from these ingredients; while the neo-classical choreography may not always speak of genius, Petit was undeniably a product of the artistic milieu these artists belonged to, and he channelled the delicate metaphors they devised for him in the 1940s and 1950s into rich, intelligent works.

Le Rendez-vous and Le jeune homme et la mort have much in common, and are both firmly rooted in French culture. Neither of their heroes has a name: they are jeunes hommes (young men), and a type often encountered in 19th and early 20th-century French literature – the moody young man who has come to Paris to make a fortune or to become an artist, and who gets lost on the way, sidetracked by melancholy or the absurdity of life. The smoking hero of Le jeune homme et la mort, who lives in a garret in Paris and has Picasso prints looming over his bed, evokes Baudelaire’s anguished melancholy or Louis Aragon’s Aurélien, caught in the strange inter-war atmosphere, doomed to love a woman whose face reminds him of a death mask. In Le rendez-vous, the hero plays a dangerous game with Fate while two innocent children dance to Jacques Prévert’s nostalgic Les enfants qui s’aiment. In 25 minutes, Petit captures the world Marcel Carné and Prévert created together on film (at once lyrical and unsentimental, eerie and tragic) much better than José Martinez’ recent re-creation of their masterpiece, Les Enfants du paradis. Both jeunes hommes encounter Death in the end, whose personification is striking in each case: a woman, of course, with two versions of the femme fatale, as ambiguous as any Surrealist figures. What we see are two modern enactments of Le spleen de Paris, in a sense, as Baudelaire had so aptly titled one of his volumes of poems – a life-or-death mental struggle against a background of Brassaï photos or Citroën lights. (…)

» Read the full review in Ballet.co Magazine

Nicolas Le Riche & Hugo Vigliotti in Le Rendez-vous © Anne Deniau

Nicolas Le Riche & Hugo Vigliotti in Le Rendez-vous © Anne Deniau





May 1, 2010

Review: The empty quest of Siddharta

Siddharta
Choreography: Angelin Preljocaj
Paris Opera Ballet
Opéra Bastille, Paris
11 April 2010

If you have been wondering what is wrong with the Paris Opera Ballet these days, don’t miss Siddharta. This lavish creation is the latest and perhaps most obvious symptom of the derailment of a system – a state-funded institution with a budget most other companies can only dream of, but with no artistic control other than that of its long-time director. A lot of money has obviously been thrown at this season’s major premiere, created in the large Opéra Bastille – with a commissioned new score, splendid sets, shiny new costumes and gorgeous promotional images, how could it go wrong? Well, it did, with some of the most blindingly mediocre choreography I have seen in a long time. Is there a captain onboard?

Siddharta is based on the mystical journey of the man about to become the first Buddha. We witness him unhappy at his father’s court and with his wife Yasodhara; an immaterial being, the Awakening, impersonated on stage by a woman, appears and persuades him to leave his material life behind to commit himself to an ascetic existence. In the end, having overcome tentation, he becomes one with the Awakening. Spirituality should shine through in this story, but the production does the opposite: it sacrifices content to form. The commissioned score by Bruno Mantovani, difficult and dark, is not without interest, and yet Preljocaj only ever uses it for cheap effects – the entrance of Siddharta to guitar riffs, for instance. The stunning sets created by Claude Lévêque are another missed opportunity. The enormous sphere hanging over the initial scene of decay, swaying back and forth like a monstrous reminder of time, filling the air with incense-like smoke, is the most striking image of the ballet. Without a choreographic response, however, it is little more than an empty vessel. (…)

» Read the full review in Ballet.co Magazine

Aurélie Dupont & Nicolas Le Riche in Siddharta © Anne Deniau

Aurélie Dupont & Nicolas Le Riche in Siddharta © Anne Deniau

Siddharta
Choreography: Angelin Preljocaj
Paris Opera Ballet
Opéra Bastille, Paris
11 April 2010
If you have been wondering what is wrong with the Paris Opera Ballet these days, don’t miss Siddharta. This lavish creation is the latest and perhaps most obvious symptom of the derailment of a system – a state-funded institution with a budget most other companies can only dream of, but with no artistic control other than that of its long-time director. A lot of money has obviously been thrown at this season’s major premiere, created in the large Opéra Bastille – with a commissioned new score, splendid sets, shiny new costumes and gorgeous promotional images, how could it go wrong? Well, it did, with some of the most blindingly mediocre choreography I have seen in a long time. Is there a captain onboard?

Siddharta is based on the mystical journey of the man about to become the first Buddha. We witness him unhappy at his father’s court and with his wife Yasodhara; an immaterial being, the Awakening, impersonated on stage by a woman, appears and persuades him to leave his material life behind to commit himself to an ascetic existence. In the end, having overcome tentation, he becomes one with the Awakening. Spirituality should shine through in this story, but the production does the opposite: it sacrifices content to form. The commissioned score by Bruno Mantovani, difficult and dark, is not without interest, and yet Preljocaj only ever uses it for cheap effects – the entrance of Siddharta to guitar riffs, for instance. The stunning sets created by Claude Lévêque are another missed opportunity. The enormous sphere hanging over the initial scene of decay, swaying back and forth like a monstrous reminder of time, filling the air with incense-like smoke, is the most striking image of the ballet. Without a choreographic response, however, it is little more than an empty vessel.





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