Part of
January 13, 2011
The Sleeping Beauty follows Swan Lake as the second of two ballets brought to us by the Russian State Ballet of Siberia this week. This was my first experience of live ballet and, while the orchestra, choreography and feeling of the piece sometimes seemed to go past stateliness to the point of being slightly contained, it certainly inspired me to seek more out in the future.
The importance of court manners in the world of the ballet is made clear early on. The joyful celebration of Aurora’s birth is interrupted by a dramatic failure of etiquette on the part of the herald Cattalabutte, who failed to send a party invitation to the fairy Carabosse. She storms in anyway, on a chariot complete with evil-eyed mice, ready to exert revenge for the snub, and lays the curse on the infant Aurora.
There is more than an element of comedy in the story in the character of Cattalabutte, superbly played by Arslan Asfatullin. He pays the price for his administrative error by having Carrabosse rip out some of his hair and feed it to her mice. He is also almost executed by the King for refusing entry to an old woman, in fact a (thinly) disguised Carabosse brandishing knitting needles, and only the intercession of the Queen saves him. This however does not cramp the actor’s style. In the second act he proudly bears a fabulous new wig, the eccentricities of which seem to pass him by. One side of the waist length locks is blonde, the other red; there seems to be a third bob type wig on top, and with a flamboyant hat perched above all this, he is very hard to miss!
There were great moments in the pairing of Aurora and Prince Desiré. At the prince’s first entrance he belied the programme’s description of him as ‘gloomy’ with some amazing leaps and a youthful but passionate air to his movement, not to mention a smile that seemed very out of place on such a purportedly depressed young man. The coming-of-age Aurora had a similar innocence and brightness, so when they finally came together at the end (discounting their meeting when Aurora is technically still asleep) their dance, while still fairly slow and elegant, nevertheless had a sparkle that was not all due to the generous use of glitter make-up.
Other principals were also great to watch. The bluebird’s solo and pas-de-deux with Florine was beautiful, Puss in Boots and the White Cat wonderfully feline, and Carrabosse’s maniacal turning on the spot, cape flying and finger pointing, pleasingly evil. The corps, as in Swan Lake, occasionally fumbled, and I felt there was more passion and magic to be found. However after an indulgent two and a half hours of watching impossible dancing to a technically excellent orchestra, where the ludicrous plot and costumes do not prevent you from warming to the (occasionally ludicrous) characters, I don’t feel in any mood to complain.
The importance of court manners in the world of the ballet is made clear early on. The joyful celebration of Aurora’s birth is interrupted by a dramatic failure of etiquette on the part of the herald Cattalabutte, who failed to send a party invitation to the fairy Carabosse. She storms in anyway, on a chariot complete with evil-eyed mice, ready to exert revenge for the snub, and lays the curse on the infant Aurora.
There is more than an element of comedy in the story in the character of Cattalabutte, superbly played by Arslan Asfatullin. He pays the price for his administrative error by having Carrabosse rip out some of his hair and feed it to her mice. He is also almost executed by the King for refusing entry to an old woman, in fact a (thinly) disguised Carabosse brandishing knitting needles, and only the intercession of the Queen saves him. This however does not cramp the actor’s style. In the second act he proudly bears a fabulous new wig, the eccentricities of which seem to pass him by. One side of the waist length locks is blonde, the other red; there seems to be a third bob type wig on top, and with a flamboyant hat perched above all this, he is very hard to miss!
There were great moments in the pairing of Aurora and Prince Desiré. At the prince’s first entrance he belied the programme’s description of him as ‘gloomy’ with some amazing leaps and a youthful but passionate air to his movement, not to mention a smile that seemed very out of place on such a purportedly depressed young man. The coming-of-age Aurora had a similar innocence and brightness, so when they finally came together at the end (discounting their meeting when Aurora is technically still asleep) their dance, while still fairly slow and elegant, nevertheless had a sparkle that was not all due to the generous use of glitter make-up.
Other principals were also great to watch. The bluebird’s solo and pas-de-deux with Florine was beautiful, Puss in Boots and the White Cat wonderfully feline, and Carrabosse’s maniacal turning on the spot, cape flying and finger pointing, pleasingly evil. The corps, as in Swan Lake, occasionally fumbled, and I felt there was more passion and magic to be found. However after an indulgent two and a half hours of watching impossible dancing to a technically excellent orchestra, where the ludicrous plot and costumes do not prevent you from warming to the (occasionally ludicrous) characters, I don’t feel in any mood to complain.