danceview
a quarterly review of dance

Reviews

Opening night of George Balanchine’s Jewels—
Paris Opera Ballet

by Marc Haegeman
copyright © 2001 by Marc Haegeman
Winter 2001

Paris Opera Ballet, Palais Garnier – December 19, 2000

We caught the Paris Opera Ballet in a rather difficult time. One week before Christmas when the much expected new production of George Balanchine’s Jewels was scheduled to open at the Palais Garnier and Nureyev’s version of The Nutcracker was paying its seasonal visit at the Bastille, the Paris Opera was still in the grip of a stubborn social conflict opposing members of the technical and administrative staff against the management. In the previous weeks several performances of ballet and opera had been cancelled due to a strike and at one point it seemed that Jewels would be dropped altogether.

However, with a bit of luck the opening night of Jewels eventually took place on December 19, four days after the scheduled date. Although by now a settlement has been reached at the Opera, this particular performance was not exactly supposed to happen, but the official announcement of the strike had been forgotten for that day.

It takes a company of the stature of the Paris Opera Ballet to perform with so much success under adverse circumstances like this. Maybe it was exactly the tension of the last days and weeks that gave the dancers that extra shot of adrenaline, in any case the evening was a truly memorable one. The many soloist roles in Balanchine’s classy, plotless triptych treated us to a true gala of étoiles, yet it was mainly by the splendid ensemble of soloists and corps de ballet that Jewels stood out. That the lighting remained insufficient for this improvised evening was easily forgotten with such quality of dancing.

Ever since the 1930s when Balanchine almost became ballet master in Paris, the Opera has been enjoying a special and rewarding relationship with Mr. B. Between 1947 and 1975 he regularly came to rehearse his works in Paris, creating among others Palais de cristal (or Symphony in C) for the company. Today the Paris Opera Ballet has over twenth-five Balanchine ballets in its repertory.

Jewels, created in New York in 1967, may not be one of Balanchine’s most popular or most frequently performed ballets, yet in the last few years it received a lot of attention. The Paris Opera Ballet was preceded by the Maryinsky Theatre in 1999 -- the three companies the ballet celebrates, Paris Opera Ballet, New York City Ballet, and Kirov Ballet, finally dance it now. The middle section Rubies has been in the Paris repertory since 1974 (under the name Capriccio). The complete ballet was rehearsed by Karin von Aroldingen, Sara Leland and Malin Thoors of the Balanchine Trust.

For the new full-length production sets and costumes were commissioned from the reputed French couturier Christian Lacroix. Although not necessarily more appealing, the new costumes reinvent the famous originals by Karinska, while Lacroix’s sets strike a well-judged balance between classicism and modernism.

The opening Emeralds highlighted a ravishing Isabelle Guérin, finally making her return to the stage after maternity leave, partnered by Nicolas Le Riche. Guérin, who is (nearing the fateful age of forty) finishing her last season at the Paris Opera, incarnates to perfection the delicacy, poetry and mystery of the choreography by her fluid movements, exquisite phrasing and subtle manner. Her partner, Le Riche, was remarkably restrained. The refined and subdued Fanny Gaïda as the second soloist made a strong impression as well, finely etching her variation. Kader Belarbi, as the second male lead, gave the role dignity and elegance. The pas de trois with “sujets” Eléonora Abbagnato, Nolwenn Daniel and Guillaume Charlot was a joy to watch.

Rubies was undoubtedly the most successful moment of the evening, led by the sparkling duo Delphine Moussin and Manuel Legris. I particularly enjoyed première danseuse Moussin, all impish and carefree charm, without ever falling into the trap of cheap and flashy effects. The stunningly versatile Manuel Legris was clearly in his element: if ever there was a dancer exuding the joy of dancing it must be him; lively, powerful, effortless, commanding, yet always stylish and superbly controlled. The second female role was danced superbly by Marie-Agnès Gillot, totally at ease in this repertoire and bringing out all its facets. The corps de ballet, clearly enjoying the moment, was nothing less then brilliant.

Diamonds was again remarkable by the quality of the ensemble. The only slight disappointment came from Agnès Letestu, whom we know as a magnificent ballerina. She has all the required grandeur and dignity for the piece, but looked somewhat strained this evening and not entirely comfortable with the changing rhythms and tempi of Tchaikovsky’s closing polonaise. The elaborate pas de deux with José Martinez, although aptly melancholic, was marred by some nervous moments. Martinez on the other hand was exciting in his solo.

The Orchestre Colonne under American conductor Paul Connelly left very little to be desired.

Having seen the Kirov Ballet dance Jewels last summer in London, a comparison naturally comes to mind. The Paris Opera Ballet made a much stronger impact overall. A ballet like Jewels reveals the versatility and the authority of the French dancers; in the case of the Kirov it emphasizes more the unevenness of its soloists.

The three different choreographic styles are tackled with equal ease and success by the French dancers. Above all, they showed more sense and respect of style, giving the ballet soul and evocative power, not bringing it as a mere technical exercise. Finally, as an ensemble the Paris Opera Ballet had the edge over their famed Russian colleagues. The strength of the Parisian corps de ballet could be appreciated in all three sections and a better illustration of what ‘dancing together’ means, was hardly imaginable.

I also had the impression that some of the Kirov soloists were either far too busy concentrating on the steps to carry the show, or revelling in their exaggerated flexibility, and what consequently in the Kirov’s Rubies sometimes looked laboured and even crass, was pure and irresistible fun in Paris. Finally, unlike the Paris Opera Ballet, the Kirov omitted the coda of Emeralds, ending this section with the whole group triumphant on the stage and therefore missing a lot of its mystery and purpose.