Having a Lark
"Harlequinade"
American Ballet Theatre
Metropolitan Opera House
Lincoln Center
New York, New York
May 16, 2019
Dying may be easy and comedy hard, as the old saying has it, and "Harle- quinade" has both, though this performance of Petipa's frothy confection of commedia dell'arte characters as reconstructed by Alexei Ratmansky made comedy look easy. The ballet has all the trappings of an old-fashioned comedy: a poor young man, a beautiful girl, an angry father, and a fatuous rich suitor who all live in a village populated by unemployed and energetic youngsters who spend their lives dancing (though considering the numerous hats they wear, the town must have had a thriving millinery trade). Skylar Brandt and Daniil Simkin danced the young couple, Columbine and Harlequin, with a technical dazzle and seemed to be having a wonderful time. The supporting cast too, notably the dim-witted, inept servant Pierrot of Alexandre Hammoudi, had exemplary and explosive physical timing.
The elfin, deceptively strong Brandt gave Columbine a ballerina sheen, especially in the second act lark interlude, which is as narratively extraneous and as sublime as Balanchine's Act II of his "Midsummer Night's Dream". It was as if the 82 year old Petipa decided to distill all he felt about love and beauty into one compact package. Brandt embodied Aurora's emotions in about five minutes, as she scampered on, young and free, fell under a mysterious melancholy cloud when her heart was pierced by Harlequin's arrow, and, with growing trust and confidence, danced her final solo with a radiant confidence and impeccable balances. Brandt's emotional range had a vibrant clarity and she gave her plaintive adagio an Odette-like depth before her triumphant balances as the music soared.
Simkin was a lively Harlequin, with an old-fashioned comedian's way of bursting through the fourth wall to invite the audience to join the fun (though he did overdo the twirling pom pom shtick a bit). His dancing was thrilling, especially his ability to seem to hang in the air and his mime was broad and clear. The pretend singing during the mandolin solo was wonderful physical comedy.
Hammoudi, as the put-upon Pierrot, was, somewhat unexpectedly considering his soulful romantic persona, sidesplittingly funny, with his sulky hang-dog look and impotent rage. His puzzled fear when he realized that he had killed Harlequin was both broad and witty. (Those old commedia stories had no qualms about finding stupidity funny and were gloriously insensitive.) He made just looking at that key a gem of comic timing and his double take when he realized the balcony he was about to step on had disappeared had the audience howling.
"Harlequinade" is a frothy ballet that does not attempt anything except to ability to entertain, which it does with a light and sure touch.
Copyright © 2019 by Mary Cargill
