American Ballet Theatre, June 30, 2006

American Ballet Theatre
Metropolitan Opera House
June 30, 2006

Swan Lake

I saw this from orchestra standing, and let me tell you, it is like Grand Central Station at the Met, with people running up and down the aisle during the performance, the ushers talking, the cell phones going off; the protracted and heated conversations when someone wants to go out (inexplicably right at the start of the Act 2 pas de deux; and again, right when the Black Swan is starting??) and the usher has to tell them they can’t come back in and the huffy indignation as the person ambles back down to his or her seat (what do they think this is, the Loew’s double cineplex? Do they expect to go the bathroom and stop off at the concession for some stinking nachos to bring back?). It’s a wonder I was able to pay attention to what was going on on stage. I have another suggestion for the Met (in addition to putting a stop to the distractions), which is that they could use those translation boxes to tell people when to applaud and when not to applaud (why are audiences so terrified when the music stops, or even gets quiet?). Ok, enough; now the performance.

After the curtain opened on Act 1 (the real Act 1, not the concocted prologue), a small child could be heard plaintively saying, "Where’s Swan Lake?" Where indeed? And not a bad question (I wonder if this was the same child I saw being carried face out and coughing by a fast-running father just at the beginning of Act 2, the real "Swan Lake" part.) Well, I like a traditional Swan Lake, and for the most part, it is here. The choreography for Act 2 is mostly untampered with (although there is new choreography for the other acts), but the sets (very Germanic), costumes, and general outlook are in the main traditional, with the primary exception of the aforementioned prologue, and the expansion of von Rothbart’s role. The additional choreography for him occurs most prominently in Act 3, where he has a variation to that beautiful and sensuous Russian dance that previously had been omitted from most productions (Martins now uses it, too; I don’t know who else). The role is well done by Sascha Radetsky, who looks very suave and handsome (and performs that arabesque balance with great skill). I am not averse to this deepened characterization of von Rothbart here, first of all because it adds a level of interest to Act 3 (when I said I liked a traditional Swan Lake I would have to qualify that—I like it best when I don’t have to sit through Act 1 and Act 3) and secondly because it opens up a new dimension into the plot. This von Rothbart makes himself very chummy with the queen, insinuating himself with great ease into her royal space; after the variation in which he makes a show of seducing (recruiting?) those boring princesses, he leaps with great presumption and not a little familiarity into the mini-throne to her left; she seems charmed rather than alarmed. (Well, this had me thinking: just who is Odile’s mother? Is there more to the story here?) The good thing is that wondering about all this took my mind off Act 3, which I figure is mostly filler until we can hurry up and get back to the real Swan Lake, like the kid said.

Julie Kent was an exquisitely beautiful swan queen; she gave a lovely, very human, poignant, understated performance. Marcelo Gomes was Siegfried. He does not have a particularly beautiful line, but he is a good dancer, pleasing to watch: good phrasing, an engaging, non-aggressive stage presence. Since I don’t come to see ABT that often I don’t know their dancers that well. The Act 1 pas de trois was well done by Melissa Thomas (no relation), Hee Seo, and Jared Matthews. I don’t know which girl was which; the one who danced the first variation had a particularly lovely lilt . But Act 2 really is the real Swan Lake and it is one of the most beautiful works of art ever created. It is such a contained, unified piece, with beautiful and interesting choreography for the corps and the soloists as much as for Odette (ok, the prince doesn’t do much here), that I look forward with great pleasure to each section. The coda is particularly fine; I love the choreography for the soloist swans to that big music, hopping in arabesque on the diagonal—there’s just something very expressive about it. The pas de deux was performed by Kent with great sensitivity and naturalness, nothing was forced, all her phrases were developed and expressive, and she made beautiful, poignant arabesques.

Although I miss the use of the full stage for the swans’ dance to that mournful music at the opening of the fourth act, I find this Act 4 to be very moving; the suicides are truly painful to watch. It’s a good Swan Lake; very well done.