Tchaikovsky : Swan Lake
Artists of the Bolshoi Ballet
Orchestra of the Bolshoi Theatre
Pavel Sorokin
Choreographer and company director Yuri Grigorovich seems to have been quite incapable of not putting his stamp on every work the Bolshoi performed during his long tenure at the company's head. There is, of course, no true, definitive version of Swan Lake, merely versions with more or less large chunks of familiar choreography, mostly due to Ivanov (Act 2) and Petipa. However, the degree to which different adaptations tinker with the basic story varies wildly - the most successful versions are usually those which really go for out-and-out re-writing (Matthew Bourne comes immediately to mind). All this to say that I have some serious issues with Grigorovich's 1969 revision, given a new lease of life by the Bolshoi from 2001 onwards.
That he should strip out most of the pantomime, fair enough, and he was far from the only choreographer to want to do so. However, what has emerged is frankly peculiar, neither fairy-tale nor psychological drama. There is no wicked sorcerer Rothbart but a shadowy character named the Evil Genius who engineers the meeting of the Prince and Odette/Odile. There is no kind of motivation one way or another for the Prince, and there's an indeterminate end which leaves the Prince "alone and palely loitering" in a severely anticlimactic finish. The transitions into the "white" acts in both halves are frankly clunky, with poorly edited musical joins, and the entries for both White and Black Swans are jarringly abrupt. It's a production that relies heavily on its audience already knowing what is supposed to be happening, and then pushing a new interpretation on top of that. I can only wonder what the "happy end" imposed on Grigorovich by the authorities back in '69 looked like, and wonder if it might not, however incongruously, actually have been preferable to what we have here.
Given that we do, mostly, seem to be inside the Prince's head, one positive effect is that the Prince is a much more active role than is usual in more standard versions of Swan Lake, and that's quite welcome. It has always seemed a bit of a waste to put a first-class premier danseur in a role that tends to be something of a glorified prop for the ballerina. It was, of course, a typical move for Grigorivich, who regularly exploited the wealth of powerful, athletic men that have been a hallmark of the company throughout and since the Soviet era.
Here, the Prince arrives bounding onto the stage, traversing the vast expanse of the Bolshoi's boards in three or four great leaps, a sure-fire way to make an excellent first impression, and Denis Rodkin did not miss the opportunity, either then or at any other point thereafter. This, too, despite some serious competition from the drolly dazzling (if rather camp) Igor Tsvirko as The Fool (a role unique to the various Russian versions of Swan Lake - in more Western versions, he's usually just a friend to the Prince), and Artemy Belyakov's swooping, sinister Evil Genius.
The downside of this version is that the Swan - White or Black - can never quite come across as real; in either case, she is an idealised figure, for good or ill. Given that vulnerability is probably not Svetlana Zakharova's strongest suit in any event, she makes this work for her exquisite brand of cool perfection. The line and the port de bras are beautiful, the movement and the flow effortless, and when she chooses to turn them on, the speed and power are breathtaking. Her fabled extensions, for which she was so often criticised as a younger dancer, have been tamed to suit the requirements of the choreography without, when fully deployed, losing anything of their unparalleled quality. Her Odette is a study in quiet melancholy, her Odile aloof and calculating, both glorious to watch, even if she cannot engage fully as an actual person, one way or another.
Of the other soloists, most notable was Anna Tikhomirova's Spanish Princess, explosive and vital, vibrantly supported by her quartet of dashing caballeros, the Bolshoi men, once again, at their most impressive. As for the ladies, the overhead cameras showed the wonderful precision of the swans' movement in their acts (despite a fall in the ranks right at the start), visually astonishing.
Perhaps best of all, and most rewarding, was the orchestra under Pavel Sorokin. 'Feared' is too strong a term, but I had expected, more or less, a fairly routine performance from the orchestra. They can, no doubt, play this score in their sleep, and familiarity on that level certainly can breed indifference, if not contempt. No such thing today; the music, however hacked about as it was at times to suit Grigorivich's purpose, was delivered with rich colour and a magnificent drive, full of relish and passion, heartfelt and absorbing where the production itself failed to captivate.
[Next : 29th January]
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