If there were ever a ballet of the European Union then this production would have a claim to it since this was a fusion of choreography readapted by a French man, performed by a Roman company in a Catalan theatre, led by a Belgian conductor and two starry principals from London. After Brexit, the latter contribution (actually by dancers born in Russia and Japan) might rightly be said to be outside the European Union but then this ballet is all about betrayal.
An étoile of the Paris Opera Ballet until his retirement in 2016, Benjamin Pech created this intriguing production of the world’s best loved non-seasonal ballet two years later for Ballo del Teatro dell’Opera di Roma. The enduring popularity of Swan Lake ensures that new productions appear with ineluctable frequency. If one wonders what more can be said about a ubiquitous narrative that sits within the equally famed Tchaikovsky score then to his credit, Pech has mined an innovative interpretation from these celebrated sources.
A fixed element is Prince Siegfried’s unwitting betrayal of Odette when, having promised to release her from enchanted slavery by his eternal love, he is duped into a proposal of marriage to her doppelganger, Odile, after a fateful pas de deux at the ball in honour of his coming of age. The additional betrayal in Pech’s story is that Siegfried’s nemesis is not the traditional Rothbart but his best friend, Benno. In the first act Benno is presented as the key motivator in the prince’s life, suggesting and organising his activities, but secretly consumed by rapacious envy.
Another key innovation comes at the end when, having chased Odette from the ball (where she appears, distressed, after Siegfried declares his love for Odile) to the lakeside, Benno offers his erstwhile friend the crossbow that the Queen Mother has presented to Siegfried in act one and offers his chest as a target. The hapless Siegfried misses and his bolt kills Odette who is in the line of fire. The ballet ends with both Siegfried and Benno mutually inconsolable with the fleeting suggestion of a surprising (and in my view, unnatural) rapprochement between them.
And this brings me to the key element of the Pech Swan Lake, which is to reference Tchaikovsky’s own struggle with his sexuality at the time that the ballet was composed, including the veil of marriage to conceal his natural desires. Having taunted Siegfried with two local girls in the traditional act one pas de trois, Benno performs a duet with the prince, providing a question mark over the latter’s sexuality as well as his choice of friends!
Vadim Muntagirov and Fumi Kaneko headlined this opening night in Barcelona, reprising roles they had performed in Rome. The traditional White and Black Swan pas de deux are common to most productions and were danced by the pair in Liam Scarlett’s production so recently performed at The Royal Opera House. In Barcelona, Kaneko received rapturous applause for her seemingly perfect sequence of fouettés, which, including doubles, was more than 32 rotations. They have an obvious chemistry that enlivens any production of Swan Lake and Muntagirov did a fine job in nuancing Siegfried’s ambiguous sexuality and consequent sense of confusion.
Alessio Rezza gave such a convincing account of the double-crossing Benno that I needed to check it was the same dancer playing both the friend and the sorcerer. He danced a workmanlike but slightly laboured pas de trois with Eugenia Brezzi and Flavia Stocchi, the ending of which differed from the traditional choreography.
Francesca Bertaccini was an exceptionally glamorous Queen Mother, and I particularly enjoyed the four no-nonsense national dances led by the prince’s suitors: Federica Azzone, supported by Gabriele Consoli, as the Hungarian Princess; Annalisa Cianci as an imposing Spanish suitor, wearing the traditional black wedding dress; Alessandra Amato as the handkerchief-waving Russian princess who temporarily attracts Siegfried to join her dance; and Nadia Khan (with Valerio Marisca) in the excellent Mazurka.
The overall quality of the whole ensemble was generally impressive but there were obvious issues with the dance floor (the Liceu does not have a resident ballet company and dance performances are infrequent, so I wondered about the quality of the floor itself) and the lighting (entrances were often initially unlit).
This is also a production with environmental credentials since Aldo Buti’s sets and costumes have been recycled from earlier productions. The setting is early nineteenth-century with the palace ballroom an apparent imitation of Brighton’s Royal Pavilion. The only incongruous costume is that of the palace MC who wears a fanciful, frilly outfit with what seems like a whole mink stuck to his tricorne hat.
A final word for the resident orchestra at the Liceu, which was outstanding under the baton of Koen Kessels, making his debut at this theatre. The mix of his considerable experience in conducting the ballet (and particularly for these principals), the orchestra’s excellence and the richness of sound in the Liceu gave this familiar music a symphonic concert quality such that I have rarely experienced before.
