Scheherazade is the narrator of the folk stories in One Thousand and One Nights which in 1888, inspired Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov to compose a symphonic suite in the same name, in turn stimulating Mikhail Fokine to choreograph Scheherazade for the Ballets Russes in 1910.
In Scheherazade’s tale, the Sultan is cuckolded by his wife and in revenge he kills her and takes a new bride every day, murdering each one after their wedding night. The wily Scheherazade bravely volunteers for this deadly matrimonial role but stays alive by telling the fascinated Sultan fantastic stories for each of those Arabian Nights.
Fokine’s ballet is a misnomer since it does not directly concern Scheherazade but is based on the first of her stories about the mistrustful Persian Shah who arranges a bogus hunting trip so as to catch his favourite concubine, Zobeide, and the rest of his harem, in flagrante delicto with the Golden Slave and his mates, whereupon the whole lot are mercilessly slaughtered!
What, you may well ask, has an ancient tale of sex slaves and femicide got to do with the modern world? Well, in this world premiere, the Italian choreographer Mauro Bigonzetti, tells the tale through the eyes of his titular heroine, exchanging Fokine’s female victim for a woman combining the guile of Mata Hari and Joan of Arc’s emotional strength.
Persia is today’s Iran, and I was reminded of the recent case of Ahoo Daryaei, who was arrested after stripping to her underwear in protest against Iran’s strict Islamic dress code. Hundreds of years may separate the fictitious Shah and Scheherazade from the reality of Ayatollahs and Ahoo but the essential message of female courage remains the same.
At 80 minutes, this one-act ballet is twice the length of Rimsky-Korsakov’s adventurous music, and it has been tastefully supplemented by Sinfonietta on Russian Themes, another Korsakov composition in similar style. The orchestra, elegantly clad in full evening dress, performed this mix of symphonic suites stirringly under the direction of Johannes Witt.
Bigonzetti’s choreography is a spectacular neoclassical mix, with contemporary movement for the barefoot men and a more classical edge for the women. It is hyper-flexible, stretching the dancers’ bodies to extremes and Bigonzetti extends that envelope with an innovative range of lifts. There are many sequences meriting description, but one diagonal procession of the women was especially memorable, as they shimmied like gymnasts negotiating the balance beam before slicing through the air with lance-like jetés.
The ballet’s structure was fascinating with 17 women performing alone for the first twenty minutes in a mix of solos, trios, and ensemble work. Then the same number of men occupied a similar period of exclusivity, the transition being the entrance, in silence, of Sultan Shahryar in an elaborate costume of chain mail and flowing robes, so substantial that the dancer could ease himself out of it to leave the clothing free-standing in a rare moment of humour.
Anna Biagiotti’s costumes comfortably captured the Arabian Nights feel in a colourful mix of gold, silver and bronze but I was much less enamoured of the digital set design. The main physical elements were large swathes of silky fabric that were pulled down from the flies. An eclectic video mix helped to determine the mood and it was interesting that they were projected onto separate panels, which dancers could walk behind, giving an extra dimension to the imagery. However, video projections are now so commonplace that the novelty is beginning to wear thin.
The Czech tradition is to have two premieres (rather than a first and second cast) and it was a privilege to attend both on consecutive nights. The dancers in the leading roles brought different qualities to their performance. As the opening Scheherazade, the Chilean dancer, Romina Contreras (a protégée of Marcia Haydée) brought an intensity of anguish and an emotional maturity to the role. Her grief at the murdered women who had gone before her was palpable. Her successor in the role, Nana Nakagawa, was technically assured but with less clarity of expression. It was nonetheless a rewarding performance by a dancer not long out of school. While the role requires plenty of challenging solos, expressive acting and pas de deux, each dancer in the title role also had to fit into the corps de ballet’s synchronicity: no easy feat, which both delivered seamlessly. Scheherazade’s golden headdress with its bird motif was a helpful guide to picking her out from the throng.
The two portrayals of Shahryar could not have been more different. On the first night, the boy-band freshness of Paul Irmatov made the wickedness of this murderous role a tough sell although his virtuosity was impressive. By comparison, Giovanni Rotolo may have had marginally less elevation in his jumps, but he personified the villainous Sultan with an uninhibited gusto. Both men were secure partners, comfortable in the spectacular array of lifts. The supporting ensemble was excellent throughout this intriguing production.
Graham's trip was sponsored by Czech National Ballet
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