beck_hen

Previous posters have given a good idea of what the ballet was like. Unfortunately, I myself didn't enjoy it very much. Earlier in the season I saw the Bocca/Corella/Carreno/Kent/Reyes Corsaire, an evening of possibly historic bravura dancing that was often gasp-inducing. I couldn't help but enjoy myself on that occasion—you'd have to be near-dead not to—but throughout I had the uncomfortable feeling the whole thing was a bit cheap, a bit of pandering to the lowest common denominator, a cynical cash-grab, ballet as circus. After all, it is a Very Silly Ballet, but we enjoy it for what it is. The "fun if you don't take it seriously" argument again. Pharoah's Daughter is even more of a VSB. All the worst ballet chestnuts and some I've never seen before: deadly snakes and lions, all of the stuffed variety, children prancing around in blackface, a dancer in a monkey-suit swinging onstage on a vine (if we're taking this the least bit seriously, I have to say the bears fielded by ABT in Petrouchka were far more endearing and convincing), continuous if not gratuitous set and costume changes, from mummy wrapping to tutu to nightgown ad infinitum, a foppish Englishman transformed into a curiously-neutered Egyptian youth in the course of a drug-induced hallucination... yes, I'm spoiling the fun and raining on the parade, but this was starting to feel like a politically incorrect Disney musical with better dancing. I might be able to suspend disbelief and accept all this if it were a genuine artifact instead of a recreation. I don't have a problem with how Pierre Lacotte resurrected this, I have a problem with why he did it. Maybe this ballet didn't last because it didn't deserve to. Choreography aside, it was a cardboard drama. Aspicia and Ta-Hor "fell in love at first sight," but there was never really a moment where I saw this happen, and their relationship remained unconvincing. I started to empathize with Fokine and Balanchine, who decided they could better what had come before. I'm just afraid ballet has entered a decadent, postmodern phase of sophisticated self-parody. Doesn't it deserve to be taken seriously? Phew, sorry. Off the soapbox. I'll need another post to discuss the dancing!

I agree with Alexandra about Murphy's approach: that it is extremely diligent and detail-oriented. I saw her twice as Myrtha in Giselle, and, unlike other posters who preferred Veronika Part, who was elegant but not scary, I preferred Murphy's chill authority. I realized that she had narrowed in on some key details of the role to epitomize her character. Whenever she posed in tendu, she brought her left arm into fifth position slowly and definitively, making a frame for her face, saying "I am in charge here." She did not emphasize the crossed "Wili arms" as much, as is normally done. To second the effect, she would defiantly raise her chin when stepping into poses, and when coming out of her saut de basques as she circled the stage. She also seemed to narrow in on her circular bourrees, doing them so quickly she seemed incredibly otherworldy and commanding, and also presaging Giselle's circling hops in arabesque. Seeing her perform twice and comparing her to Part and Carmen Corella, I noticed that her interpretation was very carefully constructed. An intellectual approach to the role. It seems to me that once she has made all these decisions for a given role, all she needs to do is relax her control so that she can emote and luxuriate in her dancing a bit. I would have to watch the Swan Lake again to see what she did there. Up until now I have always enjoyed her most in pure dance passages that show off her virtuosity: the last act of Raymonda, Theme and Variations, Odile, not Odette. I thought Veronika Part was a much more moving O/O (if only she stopped falling out of double turns—triples and more I don't need but I do like to see a secure double). She was surprisingly good as Odile I thought; she was almost laughing with malicious glee. She really hammed it up but I liked it. As Odette, she widened her eyes and looked tragic. Her mime was very poignant and firm. She has the grand theatrical manner we miss these days. And the chemistry was definitely there between her and Gomes as Siegfried. He literally threw himself off the cliff, and I found it sublime rather than funny. What was present in the Part/Gomes performance was a total commitment to drama and to the partnership, and that is what we miss in the Murphy/Corella Swan Lake, although we get incredible dancing. That said, I have a newfound respect for Murphy and interest in watching her develop further.

I have to agree that it was a special performance, carbro—the first time I've been moved to tears seeing Giselle (I also saw Kent Monday night and Vishneva on Tuesday, and will compare them under a different topic), though I know part of that was the poignancy of Amanda retiring from ABT. Speaking of flowers, I thought it was very effective how McKerrow and Stiefel turned those in Act II into as powerful a motif as the daisy in Act I. For example: Stiefel's entrance, cradling the lilies as if they were Giselle; later, McKerrow dropping all but two at Murphy's feet, then briefly waving those two as her own "magic wands" in counterpoint to Myrtha's flowered branches; and finally, Amanda handing one to Ethan as she vanishes into Giselle's grave, and then stroking his head, an unbearably tender, gentle moment that seems to sum up her own character as well as Giselle's.