The Australian Ballet: La Bayadere -
State Theatre, Melbourne, August 28 -
The Kingdom of the Shades scene in La Bayadere is one of the defining moments in classical ballet. The dancers unfurl like a skein of mist from the mountain top from which they descend, performing a series of simple, repetitive steps. The thread of dancers eventually merges and settles into a soft cloudy mass of white, pausing or moving in unison, creating an illusion of softness and harmony through precise lines and geometric groupings. It is a vision of a world beyond human imperfection, yet we are aware of the very human effort it takes to be created. One dropped leg and the effect will be spoiled. We admire it for its transcendent beauty as well as the sheer physicality of achievement.
The Shades scene is an undisputed masterpiece and often performed as a stand-alone ballet. As a whole, however, La Bayadere is difficult to stage successfully – the original ballet is nearly four hours long and the plot is difficult to convey. Stanton Welch’s production, however, has been edited judiciously, moves swiftly and is full of interest. As for the plot – well – it’s probably as clear as a muddy plot will ever be.
The original Bayadere was choreographed by Petipa and premiered in 1877. The Indian setting was created at a time when the “Orient” was a mysterious and exotic place just being discovered by the rest of the world. Welch’s interpretation is similarly set in “mythic” India: Peter Farmer’s set is a glorious Moghul palace, and the story is populated with gods, monks, villagers and - of course - beautiful, sinuous temple dancers clad in sexy harem pants and bejewelled bras.
The main characters are Solor, the warrior; Nikiya, a temple dancer, with whom he falls in love; Gamzatti, who has been pledged to marry Solor by her father, the Rajah; and the High Brahmin, who is in love with Nikiya. Gamzatti gets Nikiya out of the way by arranging for her to be bitten by a deadly snake. Solor drowns his grief in an opium den, where he has experiences the vision that is the famous Shades act. Because he is lower caste he is obliged to marry Gamzatti, but in the final scene he refuses. She stabs him and unleashes the gods’ fury.
The Brahmin is a fierce, bald-headed and bare-chested figure. He establishes his authority and power in the first act with a solo of fluid and thrilling virtuosity. The choreography for Nikiya is distinguished with angular shapes, flat raised palms and cross-legged attitudes that echo the iconography of Indian classical dancing. Her first act pas de deux with Solor is spectacular, with many lofty presages. The stage is constantly alive with character solos and ensemble dances, and the choreography is generously peppered with jumps and bravura steps, with some exquisitely pretty choreography for the Temple Dancers.
The Kingdom of the Shades is cruelly demanding of the dancers, and Welch’s version seems slower than others, demanding even more technical control. On this night the scene started a little raggedly, with uneven spacing, and the distracting sound of squeaking shoes. Despite this, the scene was spell-binding, and drew a spontaneous burst of applause from the audience. When the ensemble held the arabesque, and kept holding it beyond what seem possible, it was like a moment of frozen time.
Anything after this act is doomed to be anticlimactic, and the final scene and destruction of the temple came across as hasty and rather beside-the-point, despite the need to tie up the plot.
The opening night cast featured some stunning performances. Daniel Gaudiello, as Solor, danced with beautiful expansiveness, calmly dispatching the virtuoso jumps, while Andrew Killian was fabulously sinister as the Brahmin. Lana Jones, as the scheming Gamzatti, showed pleasing attack, with confident turns and strong fouettes and releves. Madeleine Eastoe’s Nikiya, however, was not strongly drawn and did not make much of an impact.
Overall, this Bayadere is a hugely entertaining ballet with much to recommend it. But on this night there was one important element missing – eroticism. This is a ballet about lust, love and jealousy, and is potentially loaded with sensual tension, but it was all rather polite. Perhaps in time the dancers will warm up to their roles.
- KAREN VAN ULZEN