In the space of six days, The Sarasota Ballet has brought three different programmes to The Linbury Theatre at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden – quite a feat for a company making its first ever overseas tour. The selling point of this visit (and tickets sold out well in advance of the opening night) has been the repertoire consisting exclusively of work by the great British choreographer, Sir Frederick Ashton. Thanks to the efforts of ballet director, Iain Webb and his wife, Margaret Barbieri, who has staged most of the ballets, we see Ashton’s work clearly and lovingly presented.
Judging by the reaction from an audience made up of British ballet goers and well-wishers from Florida, their efforts are being wholeheartedly welcomed. It’s fascinating watching this company of engaging young dancers, hitherto unknown on our shores, as they tackle a variety of Ashton ballets rarely, if ever, seen here in recent years.
The second programme of the week, like the first, opened with Valses nobles et sentimentales (1947). The ballet gives its cast of ten dancers ample opportunities, as formations and patterns form and dissolve. The potent mixture of Maurice Ravel’s lush, mysterious score, enhanced by Ashton’s ever-alert musical response, in Sophie Fedorovitch’s crimsons and pinks, combine to provide an air of intoxicating beauty. It’s a ballet which shows off Ashton fertile creativity, relying only on his choreographic imagination and three transparent screens to supply the special effects. The graceful duo of Jennifer Hackbarth and Ricardo Graziano, rose to the deceptive challenges of the choreography and were joined by the elegant Daniel Pratt in the pas de trois. It was heartening to see that the cast understood the importance of use of eyes, requisite inclinations of the head and gave full value to Ashton’s sweeping, space-exploring port de bras. The ending of this ballet is one of the simplest, yet most beautifully crafted you may ever see. One almost wishes to lean forward to catch it, but it’s fading, just out of reach, gone: its perfume lingers.
The second part of the programme comprised divertissements of two types: some choreographed as miniatures; those extracted from longer works all making strong cases to be seen in their entirety. Contributions from 20th century greats in the realms of music and design were also showcased. As the curtain opened on Friday’s Child, from Jazz Calendar (1968), the dancers, Marijana Dominis and Ricardo Rhodes, were seen reflecting the knotted image of Derek Jarman’s scenery. In half-red half-blue unitards, the pas de deux that unfolded to Richard Rodney Bennett’s bluesy score was a mesmerising and seamless blend of dance styles: credit to the dancers and Ashton for bringing it off with such finesse.
A change of mood followed with the light-hearted, music-hall inspired Tweedledum and Tweedledee (1977) danced by Dominique Jenkins, Evan Gorbell and Yuki Nonaka. In the centre of the programme, we saw an extract from the enigmatic Illuminations (1950) set to Benjamin Britten’s 1940 song cycle. Jessica Assef, extravagantly crowned, was borne aloft by four dashing male partners. How clever Ashton was, together with Cecil Beaton, in creating this hypnotic atmosphere, laden with ambiguity. Any cat lover should see La Chatte Metamorphosée en Femme (1985). Kennedy Falyn Cassada fully embraced its feline frivolity and temperamental changes of mood. She even performed a downward dog before scratching the chaise longue! So good to hear laughter at the ballet.
Rounding off these shorter pieces was the poetic and compelling balcony scene from Sergei Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet (1955). Maximiliano Iglesias made a particularly ardent Romeo, never shy of throwing his head back to convey his passion and ardour. In his arms, Jennifer Hackbarth responded in turn as the lovestruck Juliet.
Completing the evening was Façade (1931), Ashton’s satirical take on dances of the day, when the waltz, the tango and the foxtrot were the rage. From the Scotch Rhapsody of Sierra Abelardo, Evan Gorbell and Emelia Perkins to the Tango-Pasodoble of Jessica Assef and Ricardo Graziano, the entire cast was superlative.
The intimate space of the Linbury leaves no room for an orchestra, so sadly it was an evening of dance accompanied by recorded music. Nonetheless, we are grateful, and we do have the possibility to see a few of the company’s dancers in The Walk to the Paradise Garden (1972), in the main auditorium with full orchestra, on a programme shared with The Royal Ballet this month.
In this evening of diverse ballets, attention to detail was everything and I particularly appreciated how the dancers remained in character, sympathetic to the pieces they had performed in, while they took their curtain calls and thus continued the magic.
I will miss this company and their repertoire when they return to Sarasota: London will be a duller place without them.
