Cygneture Piece
The cultural highlight of the year for me came to pass this evening as the Royal Ballet made its debut on local shores with its classic production of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. Gorgeous music, breathtaking choreography, lavish sets, sumptuous costumes and more, what's there not to like about the work? No doubt then that it is Swan Lake with which most people's concept of ballet begins and ends, and people who do not know Ballet are familiar with the name. Little wonder then that tickets for the run of four shows in three days were completely sold out months in advance. I'm glad I got my tickets way ahead of schedule and the six-month wait was worth every single second.
With the classic and timeless choreography of Marius Petipa, the battle was already won as right from the word "Go", the beautiful music set to the inspired dancing served up a whole tray of redolent treasures and memories. Acts I and III, set in the palace grounds, provided an artistic liberty to the set designer who managed to conjure up the imperial grandeur of a Faberge inspired opulence with the rustic nature of the outdoors as the two melded together seamlessly into the glorious sets. A huge ornate set of palace gates in the backdrop drew the audience's attention to the stage rear, but not distracting from the bauble-hung festoons overhead. Acts II and IV, set by the lake, was without artifice, the wash of cool colours serving as the invisible divide between the shore and the waters.
While the more balletic Acts I and III, which provided for sets of character dances drew the most applause due to the wealth of possibilities, it is the more symphonic Acts II and IV which get my vote for representing the work. All in all, the whole evening was a successful coup for the company as their maiden performance here only served to confirm and set in stone the high standards for which they are acclaimed. The heady swirl and swathe of fabric and colours as the dancers despatched their manoeuvres was a sight for sore eyes. Up and down, in and out, left and right, to and fro, the choreography had them everywhere, exploiting the expanse of the stage as imaginative and impactiveeffects that proved to be quite tricks of the eyes, delivered the "Oomph" factor.
The soloists for the evening were Johan Kobborg as Prince Siegfried and Roberta Marquez as Odette/Odile were a delight to watch. As the Swan Princess, Marquez, from her first entry stunned the capacity crowd with her innate grace and beauty. Every life of her arm and dip of her head were calculated just so, and achieved to effect the very nature of a swan. Her technique was impeccable with the more lyrical and genteel character of Odette juxtaposed against the more dramatic and aggressive character of Odile. Every pirouette, en pointe and what have you were spot on and served to wow the audience to a rapturous reception at the end of the performance. Prince Charming he may be and so he is. Looking the part, from top to toe, Kobborg was the star of the evening as his slender, sinewy frame provided the delicate constitution of the Prince and yet belied the muscular, athletic reading of the role. When paired together, the two coalesced into one, and every lift and jump was coordinated to perfection. Entwined in each others arms, their very expression of love found and lost was palpably to the surface.
If anything, the highlight of the evening for me was in Act III where after declaring his love for Odile, Siegfried, realises his folly and it is here that a most delicious visual effect played out in real time. As the triumphant Odile and Rothbart gloat at stage front, in the vast frosted mirror to the rear, an image of Odile appears, wrought with agony at the betrayal, her body language speaking volumes as she twirled and twisted intensely. The situation gets chaotic and as the assembled guests disperse, the entourage of the enemy disappears in a cloud of smoke and the Prince makes his exit in remorse. Similarly effective was the climax of Act IV where after passionate declarations of eternal love, the two lovers commit suicide by throwing themselves into the swollen lake. Here, an artful device had them literally flinging themselves off the edge of the banks, as they ran up a short flight of stairs and then hurled themselves into the beyond and infinity. As they took to the air, each managed to display their agility and flexibility by contorting their bodies into writhing, wrathful figures before disappearing into the abyss. As the lovely harp arpeggios herald the close of the ballet and the orchestra trumps out a glorious refrain to indicate the triumph of good over evil, the rear is lit with a heavenly glow as the lovers are ferried across the stage in a palanquin, both reclining motionless as the swans bow in deference and respect. As the curtain came down, the house erupted and many curtain calls were taken and of course, the loudest of applause went to the prima ballerina assoluta, who true to her art, and still in character, took such a deep curtsey that there was no doubt as to her pedigree.
And I'm still going to tomorrow's performance! Life cannot get any better than this...