This is not a story about a prince or princess; there are no fairies, no spells, no swans. And yet it is an entirely enchanting story told by the Birmingham Royal Ballet. For twenty years now, Sir Peter Wrights Coppélia has been granting a glimpse of rural idyll, introduced by chorale-like, soft horns and captivatingly shining strings of the Royal Ballet Sinfonia. Set in an Eastern European village, the action is clear-cut, the protagonists but ordinary people with ever so human traits, which contributes greatly to the ballet's charm - and its demands.
The relatively simple setting and the nature of the drama both require high levels of artistry, in dancing as well as acting, and Folklore-inspired character dances and mazurkas are supported by great gestures of pantomime. Arancha Baselga and Mathias Dingman exceeded my expectations in this regard and epitomised the young lovers - the innocent, open-hearted Swanilda who broke into the most adorable sulks as she found her fiance, the care-free Franz with the roving eye, making advances on the ever-motionless Coppélia on her balcony, and who was (almost) just as quick to forgive him.
They mastered the challenge of character interpretation with ease and showed some great acting. So did Valentin Olovyannikov, whose Dr Coppélius didn't have the slight air of threat you might expect of a man who has been practising his mystic powers for years. His pride in and concern for his dolls were almost tangible, as was his vulnerability, and he seemed more like an eccentric clockmaker of the absent-minded professor type than a sorcerer, but all the more loveable for that.
He continuously provided comic moments, whether he made fun of Franz, deceived by Coppélia's beauty, whether he grabbed him by the ear after he had entered the workshop through the window and sent him hopping around the room with clearly audible claps on the intruder's behind, or whether he was stabbed under the arm old theatre style by Swanilda/Coppélia, and, finally, as the sword dropped with a shrug of his shoulders.
The role of Coppélius is primarily a character role, which doesn't involve formal dancing. But Olovyannikov's brilliant acting turns into a dance as he shuffles about his workshop, occasionally parodying the other dancers, to further amusement of the audience, while Dingman extended his portrayal of the exuberant youth in his dancing, displaying great manly gestures in the presence of Swanilda. While the choreography doesn't demand expansive tricks and high jumps, his were exact, clean and delightful, radiating juvenile strength and joy.