Hikari no Pas de Deux Analysis {Part 1 of 2}

Nov 18, 2010 15:26



FOR MY SAKE, WON’T YOU DANCE?

A HIKARI NO PAS DE DEUX (DATENSHI NO NAMIDA) ANALYSIS

I’ve been meaning to write this analysis for quite a while. The past two months, at least, but probably ever since I began showing more interest in classical ballet. Because, truthfully, the Pas de Deux of Light is the closest I’ve ever seen Takarazuka come to traditional ballet without making use of previously choreographed material or “simple” barre technique.

Why is that, one may wonder, since it is widely known that all ‘siennes have a past within traditional ballet and must possess some level of skill in classical dance before even being accepted into TMS. The main reason, I believe, is the role of the otokoyaku and especially the top star. If we look at classical ballet and in particular the traditional pas de deux (French: step/dance of two), one thing seems to spring to mind. The ballerina. In classical ballet and most certainly in the classical pas de deux, the very heart of the dance is the female solo dancer. The danseur noble (or ballerino in Italian) is her frame, the one who supports and underlines her gracefulness, the one who elevates her onto the very tips of her toes, so that her body in and by itself becomes the masterpiece on display.

In Takarazuka this gender role distribution has been turned upside down. Because in Takarazuka, the leading character is always the top star. The otokoyaku top star. Who may dress and mimic the danseur noble, but whose presence on the stage is more alike that of the ballerina in regards to substance and extent. On the other hand we have the musumeyaku, top star or not, who is “merely” serving as the frame for the otokoyaku to flaunt her idealized masculinity in opposition to the musumeyaku’s hyper-femininity. In this - in her show of embodied femininity - the musumeyaku retains her roots in the classical ballet’s prima ballerina, but in terms of interaction with her otokoyaku partner, she reflects the danseur noble who must act as framework. Framing in that which makes for the actual exhibition.

Datenshi no Namida has two great pas de deuxs. The first is the Blue Rose sequence playing out between Lucifer and Jean Paul. Although this pas de deux is unusual in comparison to classical ballet - seeing that, gender role-wise, it’s two danseur nobles dancing together - it is very Takarazuka-esque and only proves to underline the otokoyaku’s ballerina position. Because in Mizu’s and Komu’s choreography, they are both on display, though, the top star more so, of course. Komu is fully playing the part of the prima ballerina in the Blue Rose sequence, seeing how she is the one “led” into and “held” in different, classical and difficultly obtained positions, Mizu steadying her and supporting her weight. But this is the only aspect of the danseur noble role that Mizu carries. Throughout most of the dance, Lucifer and Jean Paul mirror one another, strike poses inspired by or provoked by the other - thus, both being showcased and neither acting as casing for the other. Therefore, the Blue Rose pas de deux is, in every imaginable way, very typical for Takarazuka’s use of the otokoyaku. If anything, this employment is only more prominent in the usual top star pair dance where the musumeyaku serves as the feminine frame showing off the masculine piece of art at the centre of the performance.

However, I dare say that the Hikari no Pas de Deux is essentially and rather drastically different from this norm.

I’ve titled this small essay “For My Sake, Won’t You Dance?” which is what Lucifer asks of Lilith when they meet in the midst of nothingness, caught in between time and space. I chose this exact quote because, if read out of context, it could easily stamp the Pas de Deux of Light that followed it as a typical pair dance; some variation or other of what I described above. The interesting thing, though, is that it… isn’t. At all, actually.

The classical ballet’s use of the prima ballerina is obvious from the very beginning of the duet. Lilith walks towards the front of the stage, following a “red carpet” of light, placing her feet in an outward position as she moves. Lucifer’s attention and thus the attention of the audience and the camera moves to her almost immediately, placing her at the very centre of the scene.





This is where Lucifer’s question becomes important. “For my sake, won’t you dance?” Not only does it mean that the dance will be performed by Lilith mainly if not alone, but it also expresses an emotional investment on Lucifer’s part, something that is typical for a pas de deux in the classical sense, seeing how it is most often a sequence where the prima ballerina is paired with the main danseur or with two or more suitors. With her being the focus of the act. A prominent example would be the Black Swan pas de deux from Swan Lake.

In the Pas de Deux of Light, this focus on the “female dancer” is very explicitly shown, most likely because it is an unusual angle for Takarazuka to choose. Therefore, Lucifer takes Lilith’s hand, not to dance with her, but to lead her to the front of the stage, openly presenting her to the audience. Something that makes for the very essence of the danseur noble’s part in most classical ballet duets, but in Takarazuka’s understanding of the pair dance doesn’t happen very often, due to the otokoyaku being the main star.







Following this presentation of Lilith, the choreography turns into a long series of motions and positions performed by her with Lucifer standing to the side, watching. In this first part of the pas de deux, Lilith strikes many typical ballerina positions, though the most well-known aspect of the ballerina’s dancing has been left out. There is no pointe work, because Maachan isn’t wearing ballet shoes and thus can’t support herself on the tip of her toes. This famous routine is briefly shown during Jean Paul’s recollection of Justine’s and Lilith’s fight where Lilith is shown behind the veil, en pointe performing a quick series of pas de bourrée en pointe (quick, even movements, giving a gliding look). To illustrate that her dancing would make people think of the angels in Heaven.



I actually didn’t realize that Maachan only portrayed Lilith in the first part of this recollection until very recently. She disappears off stage after having done her beautiful pointe work - making my thoughts stray to the opening sequence of Les Collages - and leaving Arisa Miho to play the young Lilith, desperate to keep dancing ballet.

In the Pas de Deux of Light, Lilith’s solo dance - because that is exactly what it is, really - is opened by her performance of a beautiful, slow battement développé, elevating up onto a demi-pointe. Personally, I find this movement the most obvious proof that the Pas de Deux of Light is Lilith’s (and Maachan’s) dance in the same manner that “Lucifer of Hell” at the beginning is Lucifer’s (and Komu’s). Both because most of the pictures of Lilith in regards to Maachan’s stage history and other marketable images (most notably the main picture of her in the Datenshi DVD brochure collage) show her in this pose, but also because of how the camera is first tuning in on her - on her face and then, zooming out to ensure a full view of her elevé and the subsequent choreography.





Lilith’s solo continues with a series of motions that make for a very abstract, yet forceful presentation of reaching for the light. Her movements are continuously directed forwards or up, first in two petites allegro a la seconds (small leaps to the side) with her leg in the passé position, elevating, finally at the third jump, into a classical arabesque position.





Some will perhaps insist that this is where her solo ends and turns into the actual pas de deux, since the pose she goes through afterwards leads up to her partnering with Lucifer. Also because the attitude en demi-pointe which she holds before breaking into a run is cut short on the DVD, granting a quick view of Lucifer’s encouraging “push”. However, I believe that the rest of the dance is to be considered “an extended solo”, in the manner that most of the choreography consists of Lucifer either repeating Lilith or following her lead.

I would also like to add, quickly, that the very fact that Lucifer’s only actual motions during this part of the dance is to lead the attention back to Lilith speaks volumes about who the focus of the choreography is. Not the otokoyaku. Perhaps not even the musumeyaku, but the ballerina, in every sense of the word.

And this choreography that Lilith performs, if we delve a little deeper, is some of the most challenging ballet I’ve yet seen in any Takarazuka production. First Lilith moves into a very sudden and abruptly balanced attitude devant (forwards attitude) which she smoothly and slowly changes into the almost iconic attitude en (demi-)pointe. Although the DVD doesn’t give us the pleasure of the final pose, one of the pictures of Maachan as Lilith depicts this moment and it is truthfully inspiring to look at, isn’t it?









In the very last part of what can be considered a genuine solo, Lilith moves towards Lucifer (notice how he, in response, is presenting her once more - with a suspended, slow gesture of his arm), gaining enough momentum to land in front of him in the wake of a grand jeté with a full split. Even though the camera is zoomed out at this point in the dance on the DVD, it is very obvious how she is holding her arms in a version of the recognizable “gazelle” posture of a full-split leap, arms extended in front of her with her hands relaxed on level with her head - perfectly fit to meet Lucifer, palm against palm.





Here the solo and the duet melt together - as often occurs with pas de deuxs, where the prima ballerina carries a heavy load of the entire choreography. The danseur noble, in this case Lucifer, and the prima ballerina, Lilith, have until now danced, paralleled at uneven paces; from this point where their paths cross, physically as well, the choreography aims to have them move as a couple.



A couple, yes, but with the ballerina in front and the danseur either following her or reacting to her. In every way, anti-Takarazuka, and yet in every way sustained in the Pas de Deux of Light.

In practice, this is displayed in how Lucifer’s and Lilith’s partnering starts out with a set of twirls (waltz steps en tournant), Lilith performing two slow double-turns and Lucifer repeating them at a faster pace. Lucifer presents Lilith during her movements while the both of them reach for one another in between the rounds, mirroring each other and striking a beautiful balance. Lucifer, as the danseur, is consciously aware of his partner, in movement and line of attention, making certain that she stays in focus at all times through his own motions - when still as well as in execution; something we would rather have expected from the musumeyaku than from the otokoyaku. Lilith, on the other hand, steps sideways into an open pose while Lucifer does his twirls, keeping her arms extended, one away from Lucifer and the other towards him, without presenting him, simply keeping her own posture light and graceful.





Immediately after these pas de valses, the reflective style of the pas de deux reaches a climax as the two dancers move to stand next to each other, Lilith (in her position as the ballerina) in the front and Lucifer a few feet behind her to the side, and - through a smooth plié - strike an echoing pose of straight lines. Feet in third position en demi-pointe, arms forming a beautiful V and head inclined. There is both stillness and piercing movement in this part of the pas de deux, seeing how the first pose seems to freeze for a few seconds before both of them “break” it, sharply, passing the foot of the working leg past the knee of the supporting one and “breaking” the straightness of their arms by holding them in second position above their heads. Moving into another plié, they perform that same choreography once more.





This short duet within the duet makes for the culmination of this first part of the choreography; the last aspect of actual dance before the grand finale which causes a shift of theme in the remaining of the routine. The shift is emphasized by how the movements slow down into a halt, Lilith carrying out a full plié, arms held out to embrace Lucifer who’s kneeled before her, looking up at her - once more leading the attention of the audience towards Lilith who is facing the front of the stage. This pose is held for a good many seconds, the only motion Lilith’s arms waving in elegant swan-like movements and her face with the gentle smile coming closer and closer to Lucifer’s until he makes to seat himself at her feet.

The change of pace is also highlighted musically with the soft melody of “Spiegel Im Spiegel: piano and violin version” tuning out, being replaced by a female voice (I can’t place it for certain; it’s not high-pitched enough to be Ai Youko, I think - comparing to her solos in Silver Wolf - and not with the deep vibrancy that I associate with Keiko-san, plus this one voice drowns in a choir later) holding a velvety tone and creating a similar melody, unaccompanied by instruments.



[Currently discontinued.]

lilith, white, ballet, takarazuka, ballerina, datenshi no namida, thoughts, maikaze rira, asami hikaru, hikari no pas de deux, love, analysis

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