American Ballet Theatre, Cal Performances at Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley, CA
Program 2: Giselle
September 21, 2001

When American Ballet Theatre was first founded, it was envisioned as a dance "museum" where one would be able to see the great classics of the dance world as well as new works in the same way that you might view art in a gallery and for the second program of its Bay Area run, ABT has brought one its classics, the great Romantic ballet, Giselle.

In the preservational spirit, Artistic Director Kevin McKenzie has taken some trouble to return to what might be called a traditional, twentieth-century version of Giselle. From the Thuringian peasant costumes to the black-bearded Hilarion, we see echoes of famous productions of the last century. In fact, many companies have tackled Giselle in just this year. Among them were experimental versions from La Scala Ballet and the Culberg Ballet, and there are more to come from the Ballet Nacional de Cuba, Boston Ballet, San Francisco Ballet, the Royal Ballet and the Kirov. McKenzie's return to the basics though, makes particular sense for this company which has seen so many great productions, and which could take the opportunity to distill all that has been learned from them into a kind of summation. But one must always keep in mind that it is only the sensibilities of the dancers that can make a truly affecting Giselle and that returning to the heart of a ballet requires more than just faithfully recreated costumes, sets, and steps.

Friday night's cast was led by Julie Kent as title character, and the irrepressible Angel Corella as the lover who betrays her, Albrecht. From the first entrance, Corella was all spontaneity and passion. Much has been made of his "star quality", and in this role you cannot miss it. Throughout the ballet, one could not stop watching him, even when he stood to one side doing nothing. Corella showed a natural ease and comfort with the dramatics even as he demonstrated dazzling technique and a sheer love of dancing. His mime was clear and readable, and the relationship between him and Kent was quite charming if not fully credible.

For her part, Julie Kent has the perfect look for Giselle: beautiful delicate features, long elegant lines, and an iron-clad technique. In the solo made famous by Olga Spessivtseva in Act One, Kent was lovely, using a rather quick phrasing to highlight her sustained pirouettes in attitude. By this time Kent is an old hand at the role, and she is so at home in the character that it occasionally was not as vibrant a portrayal as one might have wished. Still, her warmth and the relaxation of her upper body made her dancing a pleasure to watch.

Kent's mad scene, however, seemingly came out of nowhere. She has doubtless added many details to this pivotal scene as she's worked on the role, but in the end, it was strangely unconvincing. As far back as the 1800's, the author of the story, Theophile Gautier, noted that the mad scene should have "a quality that is touching, not frightening, poetic rather than clinical." [as quoted in Violette Verdy: Giselle a Role for a Lifetime]. Kent has chosen a realistic portrayal of madness, complete with autistic rocking back and forth, that is similar to Spessivtseva's, but her character's madness is difficult to understand because the descent into it is so precipitous. Even so, there were several wonderful moments of stillness in which a lost, childlike look on her face was heartbreaking and Corella's reaction to her plight, while not particularly princely, was understandable.

The pace of the first act was rather brisk. The action moved along well and even the many peasant dances did not seem to drag on as they can in some productions. It is perhaps because the tempo was so brisk that the corps de ballet occasionally had trouble with the choreography, and tended not to use their feet well at times, betraying some inexperienced dancers.

Rita Felciano has said in her review of Sylvie Guillem's production for La Scala Ballet, that "we will not be able to go back to more traditional stagings without having Guillem's interpretation lurking somewhere at the back of our mind." I found myself thinking that several times in the first act. The dancers are more than up to the task of peasant dances, waltzes, and carrying grapes to and fro, but all of them could have benefited from better direction in the dramatics. As the action is played out downstage, they give the sense of milling about in the background without much to do. This is one of those things that people accept as a quaint and slightly annoying part about "traditional" versions of Giselle, but which could certainly be improved.

The Peasant pas de deux was performed on opening night by Xiomara Reyes and Herman Cornejo. Over the years this divertissement has been both a small jewel in which to show an underused principal, as well as a launching pad for young talented soloists. In this instance, although both dancers are soloists in the company, Cornejo is obviously more experienced than Reyes, and this difference unfortunately lessened her appeal in the role. Several changes to the choreography made things more difficult as well, a strange double pirouette to finish with her arms linked into Cornejo's, for instance, did not come off well, didn't serve the dancers and seemed just plain unnecessary. Reyes is a secure turner, and is on her way to being a fine soloist, but this deceptively simple pas de deux demands a neat technique, which she will no doubt develop in future.

By contrast, Cornejo is much more a finished product. His partnering was always attentive, and his two variations displayed precision as well as brilliance. From the first solo, with its emphatic double tour finishes at the end of each phrase, to the double cabrioles that marked his entrance to the second variation, his work was always clean, but never over-technical, and each step was clear and easily read. He is an impressive dancer who will no doubt rise quickly to larger roles in the classical repertoire.

The second act opened with another rising soloist, Gillian Murphy, dancing as Myrtha, the queen of the Wilis. In this staging, the creamy bourrées through the forest have been cut to one pass across the stage, which was a pity because Murphy executed the step well and one would have liked to have seen more. Despite a strong technique and a lovely carriage of the arms, there was a distinct lack of mysticism and Romantic style to her work. This might have been said too, of the corps de ballet, which looked somewhat under-coached. As with many modern productions, the dancers seemed not to have been told much about the atmospheric picture they were creating, and many details, such as the deep lean forward in the upper body, and the careful alignment of the head were completely missing. Then too, they were forced to labor through a slow tempo for the famous arabesques voyagées across the stage creating an uneven "hopping" appearance, rather than a smooth flow of ghosts across a surface.

Myrtha's solo, which begins with a grueling adagio, followed by exhausting jumps, seemed to be a challenge for Murphy, whose air was slightly stiff rather than commanding. I missed the depth of the steps such as the "swinging" sautés to seconde, which barely came off the ground, or the full circle of the leg in the double ronds de jambe sautés. Still, she is a dancer with lovely lines and secure adagio work. The second act, however, is really about the long, extended pas de deux between Giselle and Albrecht. It was in this section that Corella showed the depth of his improvement as a partner, dancing with enormously self-effacing grace and doing anything at all necessary to support his Giselle and create the illusion of her ethereality. The combination of Kent's magnificent line and his selfless partnering was astonishingly beautiful. Particularly memorable was Kent's series of light temps levés in arabesque with Corella supporting her from behind. Corella supported her traversal of the stage to that there was only the lightest touch of her toes on each temps levé and the illusion of her gently alighting and being blown onward each time was complete.

Corella's solos were no less impressive, and although he chose to perform the line of brisés en diagonal instead of the thirty-two entrechat six, his position was almost impossibly extreme, giving the step a startling spark. A great part of what makes his technique so arresting is his way of clearly outlining his positions very early in a jump, so that the audience not only sees the shape floating up, but on the way down as well. His first variation finished spectacularly with an exacting double tour en dehors in passé, in which the eye had plenty of time to register the position well before he hit the floor.

At the end, after Giselle had faded away to her grave, Corella rose with a quiet regality, in a manner than could not help but recall another great ABT Albrecht, Erik Bruhn. Corella has said in an interview that he learns by watching other dancers, but (similar to Bruhn's philosophy) that "it is being real that counts" and this is without doubt what touches the audience in his performance.

Read a review of ABT's mixed bill performance including Black Tuesday, Gong and Jabula.

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This review initially appeared on Voiceofdance.com, September 23, 2001

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