Norwegian National Ballet is one of those companies able to switch from up-to-date contemporary works to the most difficult pieces in the classical repertoire with surprising ease. Just a few weeks ago, the company was presenting Alan Lucien Øyen’s Nothing Personal, but on 9th November it took on the very different challenges of performing choreography created at the end of the 19th century by Lev Ivanov and Marius Petipa in Klassisk Mesteraften, a programme made up of Act II and the “Black Swan” pas de deux from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, and a new staging of dances from Glazunov's Raymonda. The company looked strong and harmonious, especially the female corps de ballet – which says much about its high standards – but I couldn’t help thinking it would look even better if it were dancing more persuasive productions of these traditional classics.
This was particularly true of the second act of Swan Lake – Ivanov’s famous lakeside scene – which was given in Oslo in a version by the great Russian ballerina Natalia Makarova. A noted interpreter of Odette/Odile, the lead in the ballet, Makarova danced the role in a highly stylised way that spoke much of her training in the Soviet Union with the then Kirov (now Mariinsky) Ballet. Given to exaggerated arm movements that suggested the wings of a large bird (although, at this point in the story, Odette and her companions have transformed back into human form), and dancing to notoriously slow tempi, her movement quality in this ballet was very “Soviet” in style and differed quite markedly from the lyrical, classically restrained way Swan Lake was performed during “Imperial” times. Over the years, Makarova’s way of dancing the ballet has helped turn Swan Lake into a bit of a cliché.
Makarova has given the Norwegians a very “Soviet” version of the choreography in a production first made for London Festival Ballet in 1988. This means there is much flapping of the arms from the “swans” and no mime scene in which Odette tells Prince Siegfried of the spell she has been put under by the evil Baron Von Rothbart that transforms her into a swan during the day. She also rearranged the order of the dances so that they culminate with the “White Swan” pas de deux and brought out a kind of military precision to the corps de ballet that results in it looking “well-drilled” rather than spontaneous. I would have liked to see more musicality and delicacy from the dancers than they are given the opportunity to show here, and a greater sense of grandness and breadth of scale in their movement quality. In consequence, Grete Sofie Borud Nybakken’s Odette, despite her excellent technique, tended to look severe and cold rather than suggest a young woman gradually learning to trust and fall in love with Simon Regourd’s attentive Siegfried.
There were, I felt, similar problems with Makarova’s staging of Petipa’s “Black Swan” pas de deux that followed. It was danced strongly by Whitney Jensen as Odile and Ricardo Castellanos as Siegfried, but, again, it was “Soviet” in style, very exaggerated, and not particularly effective. I kept wondering why, exactly, Norwegian National Ballet had decided to present this particular version of Swan Lake when there are far superior stagings, based on the original ballet, that it could have drawn upon instead, such as those by Alexei Ratmansky or Nicholas Sergeyev, the latter of which The Royal Ballet’s production was firmly based on until recently.
Xander Parish’s Raymonda Suite, which closed the evening, fared far better. This British dancer, who for over a decade performed with the Mariinsky in St Petersburg, is now appearing regularly with the Norwegian company and he brought his considerable knowledge of Petipa’s work (again, with some “Soviet” alterations) to present a series of divertissements – mainly from Act III of Raymonda – tailored to the individual qualities of the dancers. Performed in front of an odd setting designed by Martin Dauchez that looks like a giant portcullis framed by red velvet curtains and candles, the production includes the famous “Grand pas Hongrois”, as well as additional numbers from elsewhere in the ballet.
Although it was good to see more male dancers in Raymonda Suite, like Swan Lake, it is a work dominated by women. Daniela Cabrera, Sonia Vinograd and Youngseo Ko danced their variations with alacrity and grace, but leading the way was the Raymonda of Yolanda Correa. Cuban-born and trained, Correa has a glowing, mature stage presence and a grand ballerina manner, and her solo was full of beautiful pas de bourées that rippled across the stage. It was a shame, though, that Parish had not allowed Raymonda the famous “handclaps” in her solo that punctuate the dance and make it so much more distinctive and authoritative. This, apparently, is another ballet tradition that grew up during Soviet times, although the handclaps are thought to have been performed in earlier versions of Raymonda, including, I am assured, that of the Ballet Russe de Monte-Carlo in the 1940s. Although it is not as enthralling as Rudolf Nureyev’s production of Raymonda Act III for The Royal Ballet, Parish’s staging is very enjoyable, and is a fine addition to the repertoire of the Norwegian National Ballet. The distracting hanging sleeves that decorate the women’s costumes, however, will have to go.
Also on the programme were two short duets that acted as appetisers between the main classical courses, namely COUCH, a modern comedy piece to Bizet by Samantha Lynch and danced by Anaïs Touret and Douwe Dekkers, and the balcony pas de deux from Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet in a version by Kaloyan Boyadjiev, performed sweetly by Julie Petanova and Jonathan Olofsson. Full praise goes to the Orchestra, under the conductor Vello Pähn, who made the music – especially Raymonda – sound glorious.
Klassisk Mesteraften has a further performance on 13th November, before the arrival of the company’s production of The Nutcracker on 1st December, and returns to the repertoire for another six performances from 3rd May, 2024.
Jonathan's trip was funded by the Norwegian National Ballet
