Recently returned from its smashing tour of Spain, Boston Ballet is on top of its game. Herman L??venskiold's "La Sylphide," preceded by George Balanchine's choreography of Tchaikovsky's "Serenade," takes us back to what classical ballet really should be.
The production is magical, heart-warming and technically top-notch; it reverts to the simplicity of times long gone, while reminding of the eternal perils that stand in the way of our happiness.
Set in the Scottish highlands, this ballet brings kilted men and ladies clad in swanlike tutus together - and believe it or not, the effect is gorgeous. The story is about one man, James, torn between two lives: the mundane, meaningless existence he carries in his small town and a mysteriously elusive, wonderful dream.
James appears to have everything: an influential position in his village and the adoration of his fiancée, Effie (who initially wards off the affections of James's friend, Gurn). James's heart, however, belongs to the Sylph - an ethereal forest sprite (read: woman) in white that visits him nightly and disappears as quickly as she comes.
As James is about to marry Effie, instead he chooses to follow his dream and runs off with the Sylph. His plans go awry, however, with the interception of Madge - the Macbeth-like witch who constantly meddles in the lives of all of the young characters.
The lighting in the ballet, designed by Karim Badwan, contributes to setting the delicate vision of the Scottish countryside, pairing wonderfully with the deliciously spry and passionate music. Conducted by Jonathan McPhee, the Boston Ballet Orchestra shines.
Notable dancing performances are by Roman Rykine as the doomed James, Kathleen Breen Combes as the flighty Effie, Reyneris Reyes' tart Gurn and Erica Cornejo's mysterious Sylph, but the entire ensemble works wonderfully and smoothly together. The energetic dancing of several young Boston Ballet School students in the group numbers adds character and spirit to the scenes of village life.
Nonetheless, a standout is Elizabeth Olds' Madge: Her exaggerated movements may add comedic effect at times and scare children at others, but she has a great talent for acting and for characterization. Her character causes the protagonist's demise, and she is ostentatiously glowing in that knowledge throughout her time onstage.
The ballet's choreography is not pretentious; it follows great classic standards, but Boston Ballet's execution is freshly dynamic and there are no dead moments here. The production is a pleasure to watch: its theatrical setup and storyline appeal to both Pointe-shoe connoisseurs and those mere mortals just looking for a beautiful story, away from the buzz of modernity.
Boston Ballet performs "La Sylphide" in conjunction with George Balanchine's "Serenade," which opens the show. This one-act beauty may not have a plot to it, but its footwork, costumes, lighting and synchronization are breathtaking. The warm swelling of the orchestra combined with perfect symmetry of the perfectly aligned dancers in white elicited gasps from the audience.
Balanchine was among the most lauded choreographers of the twentieth century, and his master touch is apparent here: the dancing is a great match for Tchaikovsky's lyricism, but manages to maintain great form and unison in movement throughout.
"La Sylphide" premiered at the Royal Danish Ballet in 1836, and to their credit, Boston Ballet's choreographers did not try to transcend the setting and "modernize" the ballet, as many contemporary productions do.
Indeed, it was this faithfulness to classical standards that make the production such a success: the show is romantic, funny, pantomimic and tragic all at once and not ashamed to revel in its pace or camouflage its lessons. The combination of great acting, dancing and production values appeal to a wide audience.
"La Sylphide" revolves around its heartbreaking but wistfully hopeful storyline. It's the tale of the impossible dream, the romanticized ideal in all its impossibility. The tale is a testament to the yearning of one man for an idealized love, only to be undercut by a witch who played with fate; or rather, who was the manifestation of his own insatiableness. Whether set in the 1830s or now, it's a story worth telling.
