This article originally appeared in the Culture section of Bloomberg News on June 4, 2007.
June 4 (Bloomberg) — Veronika Part’s lush, emotionally eloquent dancing as Aurora in the Vision Scene was the sole unarguably wonderful element in American Ballet Theater’s new version of “The Sleeping Beauty” that had its world premiere Friday at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York.
The Kirov-trained ballerina’s work in the arduous first act had been admirably strong and clear. But here — seemingly impalpable, yet making it clear that she is longing for the Prince as much as he is for her — Part worked the real ballerina magic of transforming steps into atmosphere and feeling. If only choreographer Kevin McKenzie’s full production had come anywhere near that feat!
Set to Tchaikovsky’s enchantment-invoking score, “The Sleeping Beauty” has challenged choreographers since Marius Petipa first staged the ballet in St. Petersburg in 1890. Peter Martins’s 1991 version for the New York City Ballet, revived this year, is typical of the speed-it-up and minimize-the-mime jobs that are common today.
Counting one-act versions, this is ABT’s sixth go at the story and its third full-length production. It was created by a triumvirate: the company’s artistic director, McKenzie, who has already concocted unsatisfactory versions of the two other great Tchaikovsky ballets, “Swan Lake” and “The Nutcracker,” abetted by the incomparable, if troubled prima ballerina Gelsey Kirkland and her husband, Michael Chernov.
Homage to Petipa
Aside from Part’s glorious performance in the Vision Scene, the production was continually in conflict with itself. It seemed, on one hand, to want desperately to sell tickets to an uncultivated audience — and its kids. On the other it paid homage to the idea that “The Sleeping Beauty” is the lodestone of classical ballet, earnestly recreating chunks of it that have become legend.
The minuses are many. Though the production kept most of the segments that people lovingly recall from more traditional versions — among them, the fairy solos in the Prologue and most of Aurora’s dances at her coming-of-age party, including the Rose Adagio — even these highlights were interfered with unnecessarily and illogically. Every bit of the newfangled business — like the Prince’s solo of longing for perfect love – – was indifferently choreographed.
The narrative, exquisitely simple, has been crammed with extraneous, sometimes ludicrous, notions. The Lilac Fairy and her retinue intrude on passages to which Petipa never invited them. Whole scenes, here severely curtailed, have lost all their meaning — notably the Hunting Scene, meant to reveal the Prince’s society and why he leaves it to seek his heart’s desire.
Unsightly
The decor is unspeakable. Aiming for country-cottage prettiness, Tony Walton’s scenery is sometimes saccharine, sometimes vulgar, sometimes both at once. Willa Kim’s costumes are for the most part gaudy and overwrought. A few insipid ones only make matters worse with their mistaken concept of gentility.
The dancing was generally fine throughout, showing what must have been fastidious coaching on Kirkland’s part. Michelle Wiles, an amazing, no-nonsense technician, took on a softer grace than usual as the Lilac Fairy and tried hard to make her movement say something. Overall, the dancing suffered from rather too much exactitude, but it is sure to relax and bloom with further performance.
The most mesmerizing of the soloists was Herman Cornejo as the Bluebird; one could almost sense the powerful, beating wings as he soared. The most disappointing was Martine van Hamel as Carabosse, the wicked fairy responsible for Aurora’s century- long sleep. An unforgettable Lilac Fairy at the height of her career, van Hamel was herself cursed here with new choreography that made her look like a bourgeois harpy in a costume from hell.
“The Sleeping Beauty” runs through June 9 at the Metropolitan Opera House, Broadway at 65th Street. Information: +1-212-362-6000 or http://www.abt.org.
© 2007 Bloomberg L.P. All rights reserved. Reprinted with permission.