"Giselle" Restored to Life
“Giselle”
Bolshoi Ballet
November 21, 22, 2019
It’s not usual to think of lying lovers, betrayal, madness and death as fodder for holiday fare, but Alexei Ratmansky’s reconstruction of “Giselle” has as many surprises pouring out of it as a Christmas Wonderball, so it is the best holiday present imaginable. Ratmansky has consulted, it seems, every word written about and photograph taken of the major productions of this great Romantic ballet, digested them, then walked out of the study into the studio having blended all the information into a seamless whole. (Read Marina Harss’s excellent review here for details of the sources.)
Many of the changes and restorations are tiny – literally a glance here, a touch of the shoulder there – but taken together the ballet has been refreshed and the story -- a young peasant girl betrayed by her lover, who, unbeknownst to her, is betrothed, which causes her to go mad, die, and come back as a ghostly Wili -- seems as fresh as if it had been created yesterday. Giselle may be a ghost, but the dancing and pantomime are alive.
As the ballet opens, we see a group of aristocrats going off on a hunt, which gives us a good idea of how Albrecht found the village and also makes the point that this is their world. Hans (usually called Hilarion), the village gamekeeper in love with Giselle, enters and states his case. Both this tiny scene and the more familiar conversation between Albrecht and his squire Wilfrid about why Albrecht should leave the village and his decision to stay, are fresh, clear and conversational rather than declamatory. I kept thinking of Bournonville’s saying that “pantomime is the dance of the turned in feet,” and the mime in this production is dancey throughout. The mime also shows a person’s character. A bit later, when Hans threatens Albrecht with the latter’s sword, the young nobleman doesn’t reach for the missing weapon as if by habit, but stands Hans down, defeating him with a haughty glare.
Giselle is presented as a lively peasant girl. (Both Olga Smirnova on Nov. 21 and Ekaterina Krysanova the next night were excellent.) Neither dancer seemed particularly young, but Giselle’s youth is expressed through her dancing. The way she searches for Albrecht after hearing his knock clearly shows her feelings for him. Some productions make this the pair’s first meeting; this one makes it clear they are already a couple. One especially charming, simple scene shows Albrecht’s youth and immaturity: rather than walk around the bench, he jumps over it. Add up at least a dozen small details like this one, and we feel we know these people. The mother’s mime scene, warning her daughter that she must not dance and explaining the Wili’s curse, is given full measure, too, as is the young couple’s “So what?” shrug in response. Giselle has a tiny solo, as if to tell her mother, “See, I’m fine.”
When the hunting party comes to the village it is quite grand. Four trumpeters announce its arrival. Yet Bathilde is presented as charming and kind to both the mother and daughter and grateful for their kindness and attention to her. (Another tiny restoration is the way Bathilde explains that she is tired and thirsty.)
The first real dancing comes next when the peasants take center stage. The sets and costumes (by Robert Perdziola) were inspired by Benois’ production for Diaghilev, and when the dancers dance, so do the costumes, making the stage look like a moving painting. Their dancing is also a way Ratmansky juxtaposes Big Moments – the dancing suddenly, absolutely, takes over that huge stage – with tiny ones, such as glances exchanged between Giselle and Albrecht, oblivious to the commotion around them, making the ballet at once grand and intimate. When two peasants dance a pas de deux, they seem to have been inspired by Giselle’s solo that had preceded it, rather than brought in as a specialty act for the occasion.The dancing by the corps throughout is wonderful. It’s as if they understand those dances were/are an important part of the ballet, not just filler.
It’s been a perfect day, until Hans ruins it by exposing Albrecht’s duplicity. Giselle begins to cry. Bathilde comes over to comfort her, then sees Albrecht. The perfect day crashes. The mad scene follows, and includes more tiny, restored touches, such as Giselle’s trying to comfort her mother, wiping away her tears. Ratmansky also restores the sense that those early audiences must have had that Giselle’s death doesn’t seem inevitable at first. (How can you kill off the heroine in the first act?) Her Mother almost gets the young girl inside their house when Giselle sees the Wilis. It’s then that she starts to weaken. It’s clear she is already in another world, as she desperately runs around the stage, perhaps already seeing that deadly circle of Wilis, before dropping dead to the ground.
The second act is more familiar, yet there are still additions and tiny clarifications. I’d never before seen the gamblers as a metaphor, but they could be taken as one. Had Albrecht not gone to that village, gambling on his rank and position to protect him, we wouldn’t be in that graveyard. (And it is a graveyard, or the far edge of one. A church is very visible in the background.)
The first dance of the Wilis is lovely and an integral part of the work, not a divertissement added later (it may well be by Petipa, but it makes sense that he would have created it in the style of the piece). The Wilis’ dancing is softly strong and not ethereal. One stunning moment is when they end their dance after Giselle’s initiation solo in the shape of a cross. A few more restorations have cleaned up this scene. Albrecht enters, obviously devastated, and deeply dependent, leaning on Wilfrid’s shoulder for support. It’s a beautiful entrance and makes one understand why audiences had been upset when Serge Lifar entered alone, draped in a cloak. Ratmansky’s Albrecht sees the grave right away, not after having to circle the stage several times pretending not to see the giant cross right in front of him as happens in most productions today.
There’s a bit of mime restored here, too, and again with good reason. Hans at first tells Myrtha “No” when she commands him to dance, then quickly bows and asks, “Please let me go” when he realizes what is about to happen to him. Another section new to me was a little dance of joy by the Wilis after they had successfully driven Albrecht back to stand at the grave. Both Albrechts I saw (Artemy Belyakov with Smirnova and Artyom Ovcharenko with Krysanova) were excellent – not at all Byronic Romantics, but very much in their roles, their dancing both technically stunning and poetic.
At the end of the act, Giselle comes to Albrecht, who’s lying exhausted on the ground, and gently guides him to a hillside across the stage from her grave. Wilfrid comes back, and Giselle bids Albrecht farewell. It, like everything else in this production, seems not only totally appropriate, but inevitable.
When I began attending ballet in the mid-1970s a friend said I should be sure to see “Giselle,” scheduled for that season, because I might not have the chance again. It was too old-fashioned, today’s dancers can’t handle it, I was told. One never gives up hope, and Alexei Ratmansky, who has been bringing classical ballet back from the dead for some years now, both in his restorations of 19th century productions and his own choreography, has given us another masterpiece.
copyright 2019 by Alexandra Tomalonis
