Dance
City Ballet of London: Triple Bill (Peacock Theatre)
Disturbing trend
Giannandrea Poesio
Ihave always admired the tenacity with which Harold King led and directed what was formerly known as London City Ballet. And I have always admired his way of mak- ing appropriate artistic choices, thus secur- ing for his company a tailor-made repertoire in which artists could be at ease and at their best. Little did I know, on my way to see the reborn City Ballet of Lon- don, that I was in for bitter disappoint- ment.
Theme evenings are very fashionable nowadays, and 'neo-classical' ones, as this triple bill is defined in the programme note, even more so. It is a pity that the notion of what constitutes 20th-century neo-classicism in ballet has gone so far astray. Almost every new plotless work with a few 'academic' ballet steps, the odd short tutu, Greek tunic or bare torso and a pseu- do-rarefied atmosphere qualifies for the neo-classical label. Yet, choreographic neo- classicism goes way beyond these exterior components. Do not get me wrong, I have nothing against such ballets, for I always welcome new creations that employ the old dance idiom in a different way. I only wish that they were not paired with true master- works of the real neo-classical genre, thus forcing the audience to establish links and parallels that are simply not there. I also wish that, having to choose one of those masterworks for obvious box-office rea- sons, ballet directors did not go for the over-pillaged Balanchine repertoire, partic- ularly when their companies are not techni- cally and artistically up to it.
Donizetti Variations, the first item of the evening, is one of the many Balanchinian tributes to a bygone balletic era. It relies on a combination of stylised 19th-century prima donna mannerisms — which evoke images of legendary stars showing off in opera-ballets — and a more carefree, yet respectful contemporary use of the ballet technique. Not unlike similar Balanchinian creations, the ballet also pays homage to the choreographic intricacies and the virtu- oso technicalities of the last century. In particular, the focus here is on the influ- ence that the French and Danish schools had on the development of Russian ballet, from where Balanchine came. It confers an almost Bournonville-like flavour on to the piece. In other words, this is a ballet that requires first-rate performers and impecca- ble execution. Unfortunately, what I saw was neither first-rate nor impeccable. I found it hard to believe that the ballet had been restaged by Nanette Glushak, who is an excellent reproducer of the Balanchine repertoire as well as one of the few recon- structors capable of making non-Balan- chinian dancers understand and assimilate the choreographer's stylistic and technical canons. Lack of co-ordination, an exagger- ated, almost parodic reading of the stylised mannerisms mentioned above and, most of all, several technical weaknesses turned the dance into a choreographic hybrid, thus preventing a full appreciation of the unique choreographic text.
From a technical point of view, the danc- ing improved slightly in the second piece of the programme, Mark Baldwin's new cre- ation, The Man with a Moustache, set to music by Lord Berners and inspired by the paintings of Andrew Flint-Shipman. It was a pity that the choreography was not what one would have expected from an intrigu- ing and rarely disappointing choreographer such as Baldwin. It would appear that, in order to fit the neo-classical theme, he has referred to the well-established canons of the British ballet tradition of the 20th-cen- tury. Throughout the choreography one finds combinations and solutions that are vaguely reminiscent of works such as Antony Tudor's Jardin aux Lilas or Freder- ick Ashton's Les rendezvous. Had it been fully developed, the idea of using neo-clas- sical balletic quotations would have provid- ed a superb choreographic match to both the music and the designs. Instead, the bal- let remains a series of numbers which nei- ther take off nor stand out, mainly because Baldwin's uniquely innovative approach to the ballet idiom is replaced here by a rather dry, strictly law-abiding utilisation of the ballet principles.
Sinfonietta Giocosa, choreographed by Istvan Herczog to music by Martinu, was arguably the best part of the programme, despite its being too near in terms of con- tent and structure to the characteristic choreographic formulae of Jiri Kylian, although without Kylian's inventiveness and taste. At least the work provided the 'Rhyming or non-rhyming?' dancers with fast moving action that shook away the previous sense of boredom.
'I have seen worse performances than that!' exclaimed an eminent dance person- ality, with whom I was sharing my concerns about the rendition of the Balanchine work. Indeed, I too have seen worse per- formances but also much better ones, and I do not believe that the 'worse' ones should be used as the standard against which to judge all performances. Still, this seems to be the trend, nowadays. No wonder more and more people claim that ballet is dying.
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