Imagine this is the year in which Usain Bolt (37) wins another Olympic crown, or Andy Murray (36) succeeds again at Wimbledon. A similar feat of retrieved athleticism was just witnessed at Sadler’s Wells when Johan Kobborg (51) exemplified the lightness of body, airy flight, fluid movement and sleek footwork that any male principal would be proud of in their prime. His bursts of impeccable technique were punctuated by surprising circus skills, riding a unicycle and juggling, on top of which he showed some real magic in appearing to roll back time by 20 years or so. One can only imagine the effort that it must have taken for a man past his half-century to get into that shape.
The production was the prize. Alina Cojocaru, Kobborg’s long-standing partner on stage and in life, has harboured an enduring desire to make a ballet based on Federico Fellini’s La Strada and the outcome of this slow-burning labour of love shows a considerable depth of feeling for this cinematic masterpiece. Incidentally, Fellini’s film was not universally well received after its premiere in 1954 and one suspects that this ballet – a brave attempt to turn the story into dance theatre – might suffer from a similar initial ambivalence.
Cojocaru has brought her concept to fruition through her own production company Acworkroom, turning to Natalia Horečná, an experienced Slovakian choreographer but hitherto virtually unknown in the UK, and a scratch team of collaborators. Such privateer productions inevitably fall short of the standards expected from a comparatively well-funded, permanent company and some corners clearly need to be cut in the vital interest of affordability. Here, the biggest drawback was the need to have Nino Rota’s luscious composite score, a mix of the composer’s movie music, including other Fellini films (La Dolce Vita and Casanova and Visconti’s Il Gattopardo) played through a recording because of the prohibitive cost of an orchestra.
Limitations in set design were also apparent but Otto Bubeníček’s considerable experience of working with small budgets allowed him to concentrate on important essentials: the motorcycle and its tented-trailer belonging to Zampanó (a brutish circus strongman) was a perfect evocation of the era and the miniature proscenium curtain was an excellent cipher for the circus ring. Bubeníček’s costume designs, produced by Saraenka (aka Sara Phillips), were equally assured as nostalgic references to the film.
Fellini’s La Strada (The Street) is a complex film, rich in symbolism, and the difficulty of bringing it into a dance narrative cannot be underestimated. Several key aspects of the film are necessarily omitted or ambiguously referenced such that some narrative flow is missing, especially in the second act and the endings, particularly of the first act, are unemphatic.
It is consummate performance that elevates the production to another level. The story revolves around three principals: Gelsomina, a simple child-like soul from a poor family (she is sold by her mother to Zampanó as his assistant, a replacement for her sister who had died - although none of this is clear in the ballet); Zampanó; and another, more sympathetic circus artist, Il Matto (the fool), in which I have already praised the superb dancing of Kobborg who also brought great sensitivity to the role.
It’s not surprising that Cojocaru coveted an opportunity to play Gelsomina since the character is made for her gamine form and her innate ability to express frailty, exposed through the slight curvature of her body, arms held to her side in submission; sad, yet wide-eyed in curiosity and projecting absolute clarity in the momentary joy of simple things. There is an intense mutual understanding in her duets with Kobborg, giving that priceless illusion of Cojocaru gliding through the air. Horečná’s descriptive choreography enabled effective character development for both principals, with Cojocaru the only woman on pointe.
My only slight disappointment was the decision to soften Mick Zeni’s portrayal of Zampanó (Anthony Quinn’s macho portrayal on film is a lot to live up to). Although Fellini finally gets to bring remorse to Zampanó in the film’s final scene, he is otherwise a murderous, callous brute and either Horečná’s direction or Zeni’s performance made this Zampanó seem merely a cheeky chappie! Marc Jubete and David Rodrigues were Gelsomina’s rather anonymous guiding spirits and the stage was decorated by a corps of six other dancers in unspecified roles.
Making dance from movies is a popular modern phenomenon. This production followed Matthew Bourne’s interpretation of Tim Burton’s Edward Scissorhands on the same stage – but it’s a lot easier to interpret such well-known subjects rather than a 70-year-old Italian film with a cult following. In that regard, Team Cojocaru has done an excellent job, but I suspect that only Fellini aficionados will truly get it (although it stands to be appreciated for the dance content alone). I wonder if any choreographer will be brave enough to take on Ingmar Bergman!
We acknowledge that it was erroneously stated that this was the ‘first’ attempt at turning La Strada into a piece of dance theatre and the text has been altered accordingly.
