Last November, the National Ballet of Canada gave the North American premiere of Christopher Wheeldon's stunning full-length story ballet, The Winter's Tale (after Shakespeare's late play). My reaction was amazement at the sheer power and poetry of the work (read my review of it here: Poetry in Motion)
As sometimes happen when the powers-that-be are in a testing mood, I was able to fit only one performance into my schedule before leaving for an out-of-town trip. Otherwise, I would assuredly have gone back to see this ballet again, with a different cast.
Yesterday, the chance finally came. The National Ballet has been giving a short five-show run of The Winter's Tale as part of the summer Lincoln Center Festival, and I was able to rush from Parry Sound to New York in time to catch the final performance on Sunday afternoon.
I'd been told ahead of time to expect different audience reactions, being assured that a sophisticated New York audience might not be so easy to excite or please. Well, that turned out to be untrue!
There's one telling moment of the show, at the beginning of Act 2. Through a scrim you can faintly glimpse the roots of a tree with two men lying one on either side, and one playing a pan flute. In front of the scrim, two of the leading characters resume their concluding pose from Act 1 and slowly make their way off stage. The scrim then rises, revealing the full spectacular glory of the tree -- and the New York audience first gave an audible gasp and then burst into loud applause and cheers. Likewise the curtain calls at the end of the show.
As for my reactions, I remembered much from 8 months ago, but had also forgotten a good deal. Even though I could remember what would happen, I even surprised myself with my edge-of-the-seat tension throughout the hour-long, dramatic first act. While I had accurately remembered the character of King Leontes' "jealousy" solo, I had forgotten that it was actually very long, and split into three distinct segments. I was then surprised to find how short Act 2 was -- in my memory it loomed larger.
Best of all for me was that I achieved my objective of seeing the piece danced by a different cast.
Conflict of Interest Alert: The usual, my nephew Robert Stephen.
In the principal role of King Leontes, McGee Maddox gave a powerful, expressive performance filled first with rage and then with remorse. His face became very contorted during those jealousy solos, and this was plainly apparent even in the very back rows. Even more moving was the look of wonder on his face and in his posture as he recognizes, first, the son of his old friend Polixenes, and then his own long-lost daughter.
Heather Ogden gave an equally expressive performance as his queen, Hermione. It was heartbreaking to see how the love in her face struggled with her equal terror as her husband turned on her in fury. In the final scene, as a statue that comes to life, Ogden gave the distinct impression of "unfreezing" from stone, thereby creating just the sense of mystical wonderment which the ending of this fable ideally demands.
Brendan Saye gave a strong performance as King Polixenes, reaching a suitable climax of anger at his son in Act 2.
Francesco Gabriele Frola gave a truly memorable performance as Florizel, son of Polixenes, dancing with great energy among the peasants in front of that spectacular tree, and in his beautiful lyrical pas de deux with Perdita, the lost daughter of Leontes.
Perdita herself was danced by Elena Lobsanova. On her own, she was light, playful, and young-at-heart without immaturity. When Frola partnered her, she became as ardent as he, and their love duets were among the highlights of the evening.
As the Clown and Shepherdess, Robert Stephen and Tina Pereira danced with vigour and energy, setting the tone high for the corps de ballet whose dances make up so much of Act 2. That entire country scene in front of the wonderful, magical (?) tree induced nonstop smiles from me as much as the first act induced tension. I can't even remember feeling that joyful when seeing the piece last year in Toronto.
My favourite role in the entire ballet remains that of Paulina, the mistress of Hermione's household. In the original play, she acts as Leontes' conscience, and in a series of forceful scenes argues him into submission to his own guilt -- perfect cue for a powerhouse actor. Here, she turns on Leontes, beats on him repeatedly with her fists until he collapses, and then leads him like a lifeless sock puppet through the next several scenes. Her leading of Leontes is almost ritualistic in feeling, as is the final scene in which all the characters are reconciled with her help. Plainly, this calls for a powerhouse dancer, and Tanya Howard was magnificent. Her physical energy in the first act is subsumed into emotional energy in the succeeding scenes, and her almost priestly appearance and stance at the unveiling of the statue of Hermione set the seal on a breathtaking moment.
As for that unveiling, in Toronto it was all too plain that a living woman stood on that pedestal. This time, whether by changes in make-up, lighting, or whatever other means, the figure of Hermione looked sufficiently statue-like that suspending rational disbelief was easy.
And there was one more prize moment which didn't register before, but brought tears to my eyes this time. At the very end, after dancing his wondrous-fair duet of reconciliation and love restored with Hermione, Leontes goes up to the pedestal and touches the stone figure of his dead son still standing there, plainly hoping that it too will come to life. Tears started in my eyes at his great longing -- and at the gentleness with which he was turned away when it became plain that this would have been one miracle too many, and was the one that he could not have.
It was definitely worth the cost and time to get down to New York and see The Winter's Tale again -- as well as to see the New York audience plainly captivated by this remarkable ballet as much as I was and am.
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