Nureyev's staging of 'Sleeping Beauty' returns to Paris Opera.
Rudolf Nureyev's "Sleeping Beauty," currently being performed by
the Paris Opera Ballet, is ornate, ceremonious and very, very long.
It also hints at the dancer's ambivalence toward the Russia he left
behind when he defected to the West in 1961 at the age of 23 while
on tour with the Kirov ballet.
It was for the Kirov that "The Sleeping Beauty" was created in
1890, when the company was called (as it is again now) the Mariinsky
Ballet. Its choreographer was the French-born Marius Petipa, its
composer, Tchaikovsky. In its formal perfection, its reiteration of
hierarchical order and its grand theme of good versus evil,
"Sleeping Beauty" represents the summit of balletic classicism. It
remained a preoccupation for Nureyev throughout his career.
He first staged it at 28 for La Scala, then for several other
companies before bringing it to the Paris Opera in 1989 in his last
year as artistic director there. Nureyev's "Beauty," now being
performed by the Paris company for the first time in nine years, at
the Bastille Opera through Jan. 4, is packed with pomp and ceremony,
with baroque court dances and decorous formations of courtiers and
royals, fairies and dryads. Its decor, by Ezio Frigerio, is
sumptuous, with classical columns and reclining nudes embellished by
Rococo detail; the costumes, by Franca Squarciapino, are an
excessively gorgeous riot of color and gold braid.
Does the ballet express Nureyev's admiration for the pre-Soviet
days of imperial splendor and the way that ballet itself reflects
the social order of the royal court? Or was the dancer, as the Paris
Opera program suggests, offering "subtle criticism of power and its
hold over the individual"?
Both might be true; the elaborate excesses of the ballet seem at
once a veneration of the absolute authority of royal power and
immutable social order, but also so exaggerated that it is hard not
to imagine that a touch of irony pervades the display. But one thing
is clear: it is happening very slowly.
The ballet's story unfolds at a glacial pace, there is never one
variation if two or three will do, and the dramatic highpoints --
Carabosse's curse upon the baby Aurora, the moment when the young
princess pricks her finger, the prince's arrival at the sleeping
castle -- are oddly muted by the leisurely staging and decision to
all but abolish the explanatory mime. They are also dampened by
almost nonexistent acting; mild surprise seemed to be the emotion of
choice at the performance Sunday afternoon, whether a curse to the
death, or sudden salvation from same, was in the offing.
The lack of dramatic impulse was exacerbated by the pace of the
score, conducted by Faycal Karoui and played by the Paris Opera
orchestra at tempi that ranged from lethargic to funereal. (This
must be very odd for Mr. Karoui, the Paris company's musical
director, who previously held the same position at the New York City
Ballet. There, the "Sleeping Beauty" staged by Peter Martins would
have been over the halfway mark when Nureyev's 80-minute first act
was just ending.)
And Nureyev's decision to cast the Lilac Fairy (Juliette Gernez )
as a mime counterpart to Carabosse (Nolwenn Daniel), rather than as
a dancing fairy, further handicaps the narrative. It is Petipa's
choreography that places the Lilac Fairy as a center of power and
calm authority. Without it, she just seems to be an elegant lady in
a nice purple dress, and the struggle between good and evil that is
one of the ballet's central motifs never emerges with any clarity. …