A ballet manqué

Commissioned by and originally published on Mumbai Theatre Guide here:

http://www.mumbaitheatreguide.com/dramas/reviews/swan-lake-english-play-review.asp

Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake
Royal Russian Ballet,
Jamshed Bhabha Theatre, NCPA.
March 2018.

Some classics are so representative of their genre that it is impossible to think of either without recalling the other. In this, “Swan Lake” is the quintessential ballet in the Russian classical tradition. The image that it conjures, of ballerinas in white tutus representing maidens turned into swans, has remained steadfast in our consciousness for more than a century.

It is one of three fairy-tale ballets by Peter Tchaikovsky, whose music is lyrical and impassioned, poignant and thrilling, symphonic in its scope. The haunting “swan theme” is surely one of the most easily recognisable pieces of music ever written, ubiquitous in its popularity.

The original version of the ballet is rarely performed. Most productions are based on the 1895 revival by the Kirov Ballet, supervised by Tchaikovsky’s brother after the composer’s death; and choreographed by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, with additional music by the conductor Riccardo Drigo. This revival also made changes in the story of the ballet.

The scenario currently performed is this: Prince Siegfried, while hunting in the forest, comes across a lake with a group of swans who turn into beautiful women, headed by their ‘swan queen’ Odette, with whom he falls in love. She and her maidens have been cursed by the magician Von Rothbart -- a spell which can only be broken through true love. The prince promises to make her his own, if she will come to his palace the next day for a celebration during which he will announce his choice of bride. But the magician makes an appearance at the party with his daughter Odile, who has been made to look exactly like Odette. She captivates the Prince, who swears his love to her. At that time, Odette is seen fluttering at the window. The Prince, realising his error, rushes to the lake, into which she jumps, killing herself. After a battle with Rothbart, the Prince follows her, the spell is broken, the magician dies and the swans become human; the Prince and Odette are seen united in the hereafter.

In keeping with Soviet ideology, a new version was created for the Kirov Ballet by Konstantin Sergeyev in 1950, based on the 1895 revival but with a happy ending, in which Siegfried fights Rothbart and tears off his wing, killing him. Odette is restored to human form; she and Siegfried are happily united.

This production by the Royal Russian Ballet follows the Sergeyev version, with a few alterations. There are a couple of surprising additions, such as an extra variation for Odile; and the inclusion of the seldom performed Russian Dance among the other “national dances” which make up the divertissement (show-pieces unrelated to the story) in the palace scene. There are some minor cuts; but the beautiful and melancholic Dance of the Swans at the beginning of the final act has also been removed and this is a real loss, like some of the more daring and difficult dance-movements (unforgettable to anyone who knows this ballet) which have been omitted or simplified.

Not surprisingly, considering this is essentially a touring company, the number of dancers has been downsized. Many of the set-pieces have fewer dancers than usual; and sometimes the stage looks too sparsely populated, for example, in the scene at the palace. Even so, the dancing on the whole is more than competent. The corps de ballet seems to be made up of young, well-trained dancers with sound, disciplined technique. Thus, the famous dance of the four cygnets in Act 2 was executed with razor-sharp precision and in perfect unison; the Neapolitan Dance was delivered with pizzazz by Arina Chumak and Alexei Bogutskiy; Yurii Gregul stood out for his unbridled energy in the Spanish Dance; and the Russian Dance was performed solo by Natalia Kazatskaia with great charm and delicacy.

Denis Tarasov as the Jester was agile and graceful, though he missed some of the character’s impishness. The rest of the principals have been double-cast, each set dancing on different days. Anatolii Khandazhevskyi did what was required as the Prince, with decent if not spectacular execution of scissor-leaps and other balletic demands, while Artem Tymchuk as Rothbart was quite unremarkable in the earlier parts of his role but came into his own during the final act, becoming a creature of real power and menace.

Any performance of “Swan Lake” depends ultimately on the prima ballerina who has to portray both Odette and Odile. It is a well-known fact that it is extremely difficult for any dancer to do equal justice to both, as they are in extreme contrast. So was Olga Kifyak’s level of accomplishment. Her dancing of Odette could best be described as grammatical. There was cold classicism and an aristocratic mien with an expressionless face…but where was the vulnerability, fragility and, ultimately, heartbroken despair? Her Odile, on the other hand, was near-electrifying. The dancer suddenly seemed to come to life, investing this character with the sly sexuality that was needed; and was able to dispatch the role’s notoriously demanding choreography, including the famous 32 fouettés (turns) with aplomb.

This production uses a pre-recorded soundtrack, most of which is played by the orchestra of the Mariinsky Theatre (home of the Kirov Ballet) and conducted by Valery Gergiev. Thus there are inevitable compromises, since a live orchestra isnt present to tailor the music symbiotically with the dancing. Moreover, the sound-levels appear to have been ‘normalised’ so that softer passages (for example, the violin solo in the pas de deux) seem unnaturally loud. And there is a fatiguing excess of bass…though this could well have been a contribution of the sound-system at the Jamshed Bhabha Theatre. Speaking of which, its stage looked cramped, in spite of the fewer than usual dancers involved.

The set is old-fashioned (which is not necessarily a bad thing!) using painted backdrops to represent the palace gardens, the lake and a hall in the palace. The initial impression is favourable, as the wings on either side of the stage and the flies at the top are also replaced with painted images of pillars and an ornate ceiling. However, these remain during the scene at the lake and thus become extremely incongruous. The lighting leaves much to be desired, since is rudimentary and unable to convey much atmosphere; the appearance of Odette at the window lacks the requisite magic. The costumes, though, are quite pretty, authentic and entirely appropriate.

In sum, though one may want to commend Navrasa Duende for their initiative in organising this India tour of “Swan Lake”, one cannot help wishing for more…especially when one considers the astronomical ticket-prices! With more accomplished principal dancers, a full-sized corps, a live orchestra, better sets and lighting, this would have been something special. Perhaps next time?

The Importance of Being Articulate

Commissioned by and originally published on Mumbai Theatre Guide here:
http://www.mumbaitheatreguide.com/dramas/reviews/the-importance-of-being-earnest-english-play-review.asp

Oscar Wilde: The Importance of Being Earnest

Director: Jeff Goldberg

Royal Opera House, 4 March 2018.

Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Earnest” is probably the playwright’s most famous play; and the quintessential Victorian “comedy of manners”. Apart from taking a satirical look at the superficiality and pretensions of British society at the turn of the century, it is also a supremely elegant piece of writing in Wilde’s epigrammatic fashion, peppered with delicious witticisms.

A successful staging of this warhorse demands, above all, an awareness of the correct style required. Jeff Goldberg’s production seems to be confused about what that is. The director is sometimes able to invest the comedic happenings onstage with a civilised grace; but the proceedings soon degenerate into loud, broad farce. Movement and blocking are often clumsy; and one wonders at the bizarre choice of keeping the butler onstage almost constantly, as it is unnecessary and uncalled-for in the script.

Moreover, this is a play that celebrates the English language and requires the words to be spoken precisely and eloquently, while maintaining a fleet, smooth tempo-rhythm. But, in this production, the actors tend to gabble through their lines with poor articulation and projection, with the result that syllables are swallowed and words become unintelligible. Many of the more famous lines are thrown away or do not have the requisite punch. And there are MANY mispronunciations of simple words, names of places and even those of the play’s own characters!

There are some edits made to the script; and while these may be noticeable to someone who knows the play, in general the cuts do not bleed. However, several memorable lines are missing; and this robs the script of colour. The three acts have been compressed into two (which is often done) but the interval comes at an odd point: instead of happening after Act 1 which is set in a London flat, it occurs unnaturally in the middle of Act 2 which is played, along with Act 3, in a country-house. The two butlers, each belonging to one of these establishments, have been cleverly combined into a single character, which works…somewhat.

Perhaps the truest acting in this production comes from Takshay Tarneja as John Worthing, the play’s protagonist. Although he is somewhat pallid, he does no wrong and somehow manages to convey the character’s essence quite consistently. A greater contrast could not be imagined than with Shreyas Porus Pardiwalla’s Algernon, who is spirited and flamboyant but a little too campy and overtly farcical, playing to the galleries. As for their sweethearts: Taniya Kalra’s Gwendolen looks the part but is under-characterised, while Pashmina Roshan is charming and vivacious as Cecily but often so indistinct in her speech that she cannot be understood.

Neeti Singhi in the role of Lady Bracknell (made immortal by Dame Edith Evans) is young for the part but tries to carry it off with an imperious manner, although her intentions are compromised by unfocussed execution. Helen Absalom as Miss Prism looks the right age and initially promises a vividly-projected characterisation; but this quickly becomes grossly and irritatingly overdone. Sankalp Joshi as Dr. Chasuble is too youthful to be her romantic interest; and Ankit Narang as the butler speaks and walks in a strange, contrived way.

The production’s design is minimalistic and quite effective, but with a couple of glaring flaws: a painted, oversized clock displaying a constant time; and a roaring fireplace depicted by a large, static photograph. The women’s costumes are pretty and appropriate but those of the men leave a lot to be desired, with wrong jackets and a towelled bathrobe (worn by Algernon) in which no self-respecting Victorian gentleman would have ever received guests.

On the whole, the production leaves one with strong, mixed feelings. On the one hand, it is heartening to see a group of young actors trying their best to pay homage to the classics. On the other, one realises that if THIS is currently their best, they have a long, long way to go. And what is needed is an awareness of higher standards, with better and more intensive training to achieve them.

Lovely recital but a mish-mashed program.

Commissioned by and originally posted on Seen and Heard International here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2018/02/a-marvellous-song-recital-by-baritone-benjamin-appl/

Song Recital – Benjamin Appl (baritone), Simon Lepper (piano), Experimental Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai, 18.2.2018. (JSM).

Schumann – Widmung

Britten – The Foggy, Foggy Dew

Poulenc – L’offrande

Hahn – À Chloris

Grieg – Lauf der Welt

R. Strauss – Geduld

Mendelssohn – Auf Flügeln des Gesanges

Schubert – Seligkeit

                  Ständchen

Finzi – It was a lover and his lass

Britten – The Salley Gardens

Poulenc – La maîtresse volage

Wolf – Hoffärtig seid ihr schönes Kind

Grieg – Zur Rosenzeit

R. Strauss – Morgen

Wolf – Wir haben beide Zeit geschweigen

             Begegnung

Schumann – Du bist wie eine Blume

Brahms – Sonntag

R. Strauss – Du meines Herzens Krönelein

Vaughan Williams – Silent Noon

Schubert – Die Taubenpost

Brahms – Wiegenlied

Schubert – Erlkönig

Wolf – An die Geliebte

Schubert – Der Tod und das Mädchen

Loewe – Süßes Begräbnis

R. Strauss – Allerseelen

Grieg – Ein Traum

Schubert – Wandrers Nachtlied II (encore)

           

This Sunday afternoon recital in Mumbai by the young German baritone Benjamin Appl was a potpourri of songs in three languages and in widely-differing styles by various composers. These were loosely strung together as individual pieces rather than in groups, with the unifying concept of depicting a tragic love-story, or so we were told, but the idea was stretched too thin to be convincing. However, the sequence of songs, particularly in the programme’s second half, did not present too many musical jolts since most consecutive selections seemed matched in key, if not in kind. They were interspersed by explanations given by the singer, though mercifully these interruptions were few and not cloying.

The recital began with Schumann’s Widmung and this immediately presented the singer’s strengths and weaknesses. There was an innate musicality in everything he did, aided by prodigious breath-control and a wonderful sense of legato, also heard to great effect later in Mendelssohn’s Auf Flügeln des Gesanges. He did seem to have some difficulty in songs with a very low tessitura and, more often than not, his softer tones seemed to have insufficient breath-support thus lacking a certain roundness, for instance in Brahms’ Wiegenlied. However, dynamic markings of mezzoforte and above found him singing out with clarion voice and flawless attack.

Herr Appl excelled in expression. There was no doubt that he felt and understood the songs deeply; and spared no effort in conveying this to the audience. One might say he did, on occasion, over-interpret the songs; but never self-consciously. Better a little too much than too little. A prime example of this was Schubert’s Ständchen, which began with the singer taking expressive liberties with line and rhythm but ended with an unforgettable beglücke mich.

The concert’s highlights included Geduld and Morgen by Richard Strauss, the former sung with vivid word-painting, the latter floated magically with iridescent accompaniment by Simon Lepper. Erlkönig was given a powerhouse performance, the four voices clearly demarcated, with perhaps the most thrilling rendition of the words “so brauch’ ich Gewalt” that this critic has ever heard. However, Mr. Lepper was too loud in the early part of this song, nearly drowning-out the singer (the piano was kept wide-open throughout the recital) though elsewhere he was unfailingly sensitive and ideally supportive.

On the whole then, a marvellous recital and a Sunday afternoon well-spent. However, one wishes the organisers (the National Centre for the Performing Arts in Mumbai) had presented a more consistent and better arranged programme, rather than this mish-mash. Especially since the audience would applaud after each song, until the singer politely requested them not to!