Pyotr. I. Tchaikovsky / Sergei Prokofiev / Georges Bizet

The Royal Ballet
Orchestra of The Royal Opera House, Covent Garden
Fayçal Karoui – Conductor

Serenade
Choreography – George Balanchine
Costumes – Karinska
Lighting – John B. Read

Dancers –
Lauren Cuthbertson, Anna Rose O’Sullivan, Melissa Hamilton, William Bracewell, Ryoichi Hirano
Ashley Dean, Leticia Dias, Sae Maeda, Mariko M. Sasaki
Madison Bailey, Bomin Kim, Isabel Lubach, Nadia Mullova-Barley, Katharina Nikelski, Viola Pantuso, Julia Roscoe, Sumina S. Sasaki, Charlotte Tonkinson, Amelia Townsend, Marianna Tsembenhoi, Lara Turk, Yu Hang
Harris Bell, Harry Churches, Harrison Lee, Aiden O’Brien

Prodigal Son
Choreography – George Balanchine
Designer – Georges Rouault
Lighting – John B. Read

Dancers –
The Prodigal Son – Cesar Corrales
The Siren – Mayara Magri
Father – Ravi Cannonier-Watson
Servants to the Prodigal Son – Téo Dubreuil, Joonhyuk Jun
The Sisters – Katharina Nikelski, Amelia Townsend
Drinking Companions – Denilson Almeida, Harris Bell, Harry Churches, Martin Diaz, Brayden Gallucci, Harrison Lee, Caspar Lench, Alejandro Muñoz, Aiden O’Brien

Symphony in C
Choreography – George Balanchine
Costume Designer – Anthony Dowell
Lighting – John B. Read

Dancers –
First Movement: Allegro Vivo
Fumi Kaneko, Vadim Muntagirov
Mariko M. Sasaki, Joonhyuk Jun, Annette Buvoli, Giacomo Rovero
Artists of The Royal Ballet

Second Movement: Adagio
Marianela Nuñez, Reece Clarke
Olivia Cowley, Nicol Edmonds, Hannah Grennell, Lukas Bjørneboe Brændsrød
Artists of The Royal Ballet

Third Movement: Allegro Vivace
Sae Maeda, Taisuke Nakao
Isabella Gasparini, Téo Dubreuil, Ashley Dean, Benjamin Ella
Artists of The Royal Ballet

Fourth Movement: Allegro Vivace
Leticia Dias, Joseph Sissens
Madison Bailey, Liam Boswell, Mica Bradbury, Harrison Lee
Artists of The Royal Ballet

Would one expect a stylish and idiomatic performance of a late Beethoven piano sonata from a pianist who had spent the best part of a year playing Ligeti? Or a Mozart aria from a singer who had been singing John Adams for months? The same question arose at The Royal Ballet’s most recent offering, a triple bill devoted to the great Russian-American choreographer George Balanchine featuring two of his plotless works which call for supreme mastery of a demanding neo-classical dance idiom. The company as a whole has not been exposed to classical dance for many months with the exception of the 12 Stars in Frederick Ashton’s Cinderella at Christmas-time, and, whilst the ensemble has, in succession, recently danced works by several of the 20^th century’s greatest dance-makers, Ashton, Cranko, MacMillan, the works selected have not demanded a demonstration of mastery of pure classical dancing, while the inanities of Christopher Wheeldon’s Alice, the cold vacuities of Wayne McGregor’s MADDADDAM and Crystal Pite’s tedious, message-laden Light of Passage cannot be said to have advanced the art form of ballet in any way imaginable. This is also a Royal Ballet season with no classical ballets whatsoever in the repertoire, no Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty or Giselle, let alone La Bayadère or Raymonda Act III. In short, in Serenade and especially in Symphony in C, the company’s dancers are having to dance in a way for which recent stage experience has not prepared them. It is no surprise that they did so with varying levels of success.

Balanchine’s Prodigal Son is most definitely not a neo-classical work, but rather a fascinating exercise in dramatic and acrobatic expressionism made for what was to the last ever season given by Serge Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes in 1929. It was only acquired by The Royal Ballet in 1973 as a vehicle for Rudolf Nureyev, but has enjoyed infrequent yet welcome revivals since, the last being some 20 years ago with Carlos Acosta in the prodigal’s loincloth and Sylvie Guillem as the serpentine Siren. Cesar Corrales, a principal who has struggled somewhat to find his place in the company repertoire, now scores a direct hit in the title role, an explosive and rebellious young man straining to break free from the tedium of family life. Corrales crackles with pent-up energy, and leaps and bounds in great explosions of movement, revelling in the unbridled nature of his gestures. He is also a wide-eyed innocent when confronted by Mayara Magri’s Siren who seduces and then robs him. While Magri lacks the ideal height for the role and took a little time to settle into the hypnotic sensuousness of the role, she was ultimately effective as the prodigal’s seductress and was an imperious commander of her grotesque, bald-headed minions who scuttled and galumphed at her instruction. A fine revival of a precious repertoire survivor from the early part of last century and an important work in itself in the history of the art form.

Serenade has a long and distinguished history of performance by the ensemble, dating back to when Balanchine himself set it on the company in 1964. It was his first work in America and serves as a statement of intent in emphasising the supremacy (in his opinion) of abstract movement. Lauren Cuthbertson led a superb performance in which the dancers allowed themselves to revel in the athleticism of the choreographer’s invention in a work of veiled, almost mystical meaning. The highlight came in the second waltz section when Cuthbertson alongside her zestful partner William Bracewell achieved a heady rush of movement which simply rode the music. It is clearly a work that all the dancers were enjoying greatly, and it was a pleasure to see the corps de ballet exult in the choreography rather thanrestric themselves to what can often be summed up as Royal Ballet ‘politeness’. It is noticeable, however, that the British accent of the company’s performances of Balanchine which so characterised them in years past, has, to a large extent, now been lost. That is because The Royal Ballet has almost completely lost its own style of dancing which so distinguished it over many decades, the result of welcome recruitment of dancers from around the world and an over-broadening of the repertoire in recent years which together have resulted in an overall blandness of movement quality. The company dancers are undoubtedly accomplished in what they do, but they are mostly no longer identifiable as dancing in the ‘Royal Ballet style.’

That lack of a focussed style was all-too apparent in the closing work, the exuberant Symphony in C, a joyous celebration of classical ballet technique, shot through with Balanchine’s own twists and touches. Created in 1947 for the Paris Opéra Ballet as Le Palais de Cristal, it soon found international popularity under a new title as a true ensemble showcase; it was finally acquired by The Royal Ballet in 1991. On this occasion, the current company demonstrated that, however good they may be as individual dancers, they have simply not had enough experience this season in donning tutus, tunics and tights to deliver bravura dancing across the board. With over 50 artists on stage by the work’s finale, it was clear that discrepancies in timing, musicality and understanding of choreographic structure characterise them at present; it is not the dancers’ fault, that lies at the door of the company director’s office for not preparing them with reasoned scheduling which has a cumulative effect. But then this is management which once programmed a work by Wayne McGregor (the antithesis of ballet classicism) followed by The Sleeping Beauty (its pinnacle). That said, there were some superlative performances to enjoy, not least the felicitous pairing in the first movement of Fumi Kaneko and the company’s reigning danseur noble, Vadim Muntagirov, both artists at the height of their powers and in supreme command both of their choreography and the stage. They were followed by the highly successful dance partnership of Marinela Nuñez and Reece Clarke in the luxuriant adagio; both dominatedthe stage with no apparent effort delivering dancing of the highest quality. Neither of the other pairs made much of an impression, although each principal pair’s two supporting couples contained performances of note – Lukas Bjørneboe Brændsrød in the second movement, and Téo Dubreuil and Benjamin Ella in the third in particular.

Conductor Fayçal Karoui, who was with New York City Ballet for several years, led superb, idiomatic performances of all three scores, revelling in the lush Tchaikovskian strings of Serenade, Prokofiev’s tangy sonorites in Prodigal Son and Bizet’s irresistible composition. In all three, he showed he knew where to drive the dance along (most apparent in Serenade), shaped the music with care to allow for intelligent phrasing of movement and, in the case of Symphony in C, built excitingly to climax. The house orchestra responded with lively and engaged playing, the woodwind particularly beautiful in the Bizet.