This is either the fourth or fifth time I have seen the National Ballet of Canada in James Kudelka's dark and powerful version of Swan Lake since it was first presented in the late 1990s. Since it is a Kudelka ballet, it's no surprise that I keep seeing and registering more and more on each viewing. His stagings are complex and multi-layered, so that you simply can not get it all in one viewing.
Tchaikovsky's music for Swan Lake (the first of his three great ballets) is world-famous -- and especially the beautiful and haunting "swan" melodies entrusted to the oboe. So is the basic outline of the story, which is essentially a tragedy where the other two (Sleeping Beauty and Nutcracker) are happily-ever-after fairy tales. Even in the older versions, the ballet is full of dark possibilities and tragic premonitions. In Kudelka's version, that darkness is brought very much to the fore in a way that makes a happily-ever-after ending unthinkable and impossible.
Like the National's predecessor version by Erik Bruhn, Kudelka's compresses the ballet into two acts (by fusing Act I with Act II, and Act III with Act IV), and manages the considerable feat of changing the sets on the fly without interrupting the action or resorting to closed curtains or blackouts. There's even a brief Prologue staged behind a scrim during the overture. All five sets make use of images relating to death and sadness: autumnal colours, dried reeds, and leafless trees in the hunting camp and lakeside scenes, a rotted boat on the scrim of the Prologue, dark blacks, blues and purples dominating the castle hall. Indeed, almost the only notes of colour in the entire production are the maroon costume worn by Prince Siegfried's friend Benno in Act I, and the brilliant capes and clothes of the ambassadors and princesses in Act III.
The action envisaged by Kudelka has its darker qualities too: the Prince's companions abusing and assaulting a wench in Act I, the "meat-market" display of the four Princesses in Act III, and the entire "black scene" atmosphere of Act IV, where only Odette (the Swan Queen) remains in pristine white. The sorcerer Rothbart emerges in Kudelka's vision as a demonic manipulator of human destinies, which is an interesting reversion to Tchaikovsky's original scenario -- the character was described in that as "the evil genius, disguised as Rothbart" (in other words, Satan).
Whereas Swan Lake has traditionally been dominated by the women, Kudelka's version creates incredibly challenging choreography for the men as well, so much so that only a few moments rely on mime to carry the story and character development. This shows right at the outset, when the first steps danced are one of several tricky numbers for the Fool. This was strongly presented by Robert Stephen (Conflict of Interest Alert -- my nephew!). The entire Act I is dominated by the men of the corps de ballet, who have much intricate choreography and carried it off with plenty of dash and fire.
Prince Siegfried was danced with passion and energy by McGee Maddox, marking his first encounter with this signature role. On the whole, he was very impressive. In a few places he seemed a bit tentative, and I look forward to seeing him do it again a few years down the road when he has more time to grow into the part. His friend Benno was danced by Nan Wang, and there was a haunting eloquence to the duet in which he tries to entice Siegfried to snap out of his melancholy and try some new activity -- a concept expressed entirely through dance. Apart from the Wench, the only women in the scene are the Queen and her ladies-in-waiting, who appear briefly, just long enough for her to tell the Prince that he must choose a bride on the morrow. That done, they quickly leave.
The first appearance of Rothbart after the Prologue is in Act II, and he begins as he will go on -- in a pas de trois with Siegfried and Odile. After this unconventional opening, the ballet segues readily into the classic white-scene choreography by Lev Ivanov so beloved by generations of ballet lovers and so beautifully performed by the corps de ballet and Xiao Nan Yu as Odette. It's not hard to see why no one really wants to tinker with it. After watching the crisp yet playful execution of the Dance of the Little Swans by four members of the corps, you realize that there's no point trying to improve on perfection.
The centrepiece of Act III, the bride-choosing, is the four character dances. Instead of becoming a divertissement or entertainment, these are integrated into the story by Kudelka as the attempts of the four Princesses and the four Ambassadors to interest Siegfried and/or his mother. Dominant here was Jenna Savella as the fire-eating Spanish princess.
And then comes the shock to the system as Rothbart arrives with the Black Swan. Here's where the female lead role becomes a really daunting challenge. It is of course two completely different characters, who share a common vocabulary of gestures and movements. Xiao Nan Yu was one of the best Swan Queens I can ever remember, coming across equally clearly as the graceful, gentle, melancholy Odette and the hard, malicious, glittering Odile. This act again reverts to tradition with the famous Black Swan Pas de Deux, which (few people even realize nowadays) includes music not written by Tchaikovsky. Don't get me started! But there again, why give up a good thing? Both Xiao Nan Yu and McGee Maddox were spot-on in the endless series of fouettes which complete the pas de deux.
The third act ends with a catastrophic flood destroying the castle and drowning everyone except Siegfried. Act IV tops that in the only way possible. As the ruined castle sinks slowly at the back, the swans dance lakeside again, but all in black now. Siegfried and Rothbart appear and engage in a ferocious struggle over Odette, a demonic pas de trois like nothing else in classical ballet -- this is one of Kudelka's most amazing inspirations. Etienne Lavigne as Rothbart reached the peak of his performance at this point, as he must. Another storm erupts, Siegfried is killed, Rothbart vanishes, and the sublime harp epilogue -- originally accompanying the ascent of the dead lovers to heaven -- becomes instead a requiem as Odette mourns over Siegfried. This is the tragic culmination of Kudelka's dark vision, and Yu's dancing was more than equal to capturing the enormity of Odette's grief.
As always, I look forward to another year and another staging, when I'm sure I will realize yet more of James Kudelka's complex version of this classic ballet. It's not your grandmother's Swan Lake by a long shot, but in many ways it is a much more satisfying, more human version of the tale, even if the darkness lowers oppressively.
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