Latvian National Ballet is the fourth company to acquire Kenneth Tindall’s Casanova since its creation in 2017 for Northern Ballet and its popularity is continuing to grow with increasing rapidity. That he had the foresight to transpose this epic, historical story into the language of dance, is remarkable in itself but it has become one of those ballets that audiences return to see again and again because they want to catch different artistic interpretations.
The life of Giacomo Casanova has been well documented, not least in his own twelve volume memoir, and while his reputation is mostly associated with his sexual exploits and promiscuity (his name has been turned into an adjective to epitomise womanising), there are many other facets to his story. While this may read well, turning it into a full-length ballet, with a cast of many characters and some fairly complicated plot lines, is no mean feat. Tindall has succeeded on all fronts.
His team has also delivered a splendid looking production. Sets and costumes by Christopher Oram are stunningly beautiful and creatively efficient in switching to the various Venetian or Parisian locations. Alistair West’s lighting is expertly atmospheric, adding much to the overall look of the production. Kerry Muzzey’s commissioned score is suitably cinematic and rich if occasionally a little repetitive. It would have been preferable to have less leitmotif and more distinction musically between the various episodes, characters and conquests that occur over two acts, but it has a generously propulsive thrust to it.
Having seen the challenges it presented to Northern Ballet, it was clear that Latvian National Ballet (led by artistic director Aivars Leimanis) would need to have a roster of extremely strong technicians but also excellent dance actors and numerous top soloists. Fortunately, they tackled the demands of the choreography with great aplomb and genuine commitment, possessing all the requisite qualities.
Without going into the intricacies of the narrative, the ballet starts with Casanova’s induction to the priesthood. He is seduced by a pair of sisters who are his students, resulting in his rejection by the church. So begins his extraordinary adventure during which he is mugged, left for dead and taken in by Senator Bragadin. He’s imprisoned by the Inquisition (and later escapes) for possessing a forbidden book. His encounters with women from all walks of life are depicted throughout the ballet with nuanced, often ravishing pas de deux. The back stories of his lovers are varied with a common theme: they are all in thrall to Casanova.
The highlights centre very much on a handful of clever and meaningful duets. A nun (M.M.) invites Casanova to meet her for an illicit rendezvous, a staged seduction for the benefit of her lover, secreted behind a screen, the voyeur Cardinal de Bernis. As M.M., Sabīne Strokša was sensual, displaying exquisite lines and neat footwork as she literally enveloped her prey.
As Bellino, the woman who disguises herself as a castrati, Jūlija Brauere, was particularly moving as she revealed herself to Casanova (more of him later) in a duet that was full of vulnerability. Her diminutive physique and increasing trust in him was touching and the chemistry between them was palpable. It was equally so during a languorous pas de deux for Casanova and Jolanta Lubēja’s Henriette, a woman escaping her abusive husband. Again, Lubēja’s lyricism and fragility were aesthetically attractive and she was wholeheartedly invested in her role.
There were no weak links in any of the characters, nor in the way in which the ensemble appeared to relish the work. While the plethora of cameo roles and the minutiae of each storyline might at first seem overwhelming, it is not essential to know every detail to enjoy the action that unfolds. Alongside this, Tindall has created a central character for a male dancer that could be compared to Sir Kenneth MacMillan's Crown Prince Rudolf in Mayerling. Casanova barely leaves the stage. He has to execute numerous solos as well as partnering a number of major protagonists, some of them in convoluted pas de deux, with difficult lifts. It's strenuous and extreme. It also requires charisma and authentic acting.
In Antons Freimans, Latvian National Ballet has just such a dancer. The audience reaction was visceral, on its feet within seconds at the end. A tour de force, and I believe, a performance that will grow even better with time – he was superlative.
With Mārtiņš Ozoliņš conducting the Latvian National Opera Orchestra, bringing out the light and shade of the score, this was surely a triumph for all concerned.
Deborah's trip was sponsored by the Riga Investment and Tourism Agency
