Maureen Needham
The Nashville Ballet performed Swan Lake, the greatest of all great ballets, last weekend at TPAC’s Jackson Hall. The evening was quite a challenge for everyone, and the company members acquitted themselves with dignity. In particular, Alexei Khimenko (the Prince), Anna Djouloukhadze and Alexander Srb (Neapolitan dancers), and Brandon Skolnik (Jester) danced with panache, while Maggie Pelton (Queen Mother) and Rick Duschi (Tutor) made minor character roles into pleasing vignettes.
That said, the performance as a whole wasn’t a success—not because it couldn’t match the spectacle of a full-scale production, but because the quality of the dancing simply didn’t meet the exacting requirements of the choreography. Indeed, Swan Lake is considered a test of a company’s artistic maturity; it’s rarely performed today due to the high level of technical proficiency it demands. As a result, the ballet has always been the provenance of world-class companies, such as the Ballets Russes, Royal Ballet of England, and Bolshoi Ballet of Russia.
Regional companies are generally too small and lack the depth to manage the awesome obstacles in Swan Lake. And few companies—whether they employ 250 dancers (as did the Bolshoi even in the famine years of 1947) or 14 (as does Nashville today)—can boast of a celebrated ballerina who has attained the necessary wisdom to earn her laurels in the role of the Swan Queen.
Certain performance benchmarks are invariably associated with Swan Lake, and these are the standards by which a company that undertakes the ballet asks to be judged. The foremost consideration is the Swan Queen—a make-or-break role. The dancer must portray two characters, one good (Odette) and one evil (Odile). Her dancing must encompass soft, flowing lyrical movement as well as the percussive brilliance of highly demanding academic style.
Most of the greatest 20th-century dancers have found this challenge enough, but the role is also an endurance contest. For example, ever since Legnani, the original Odile/Odette, audiences look forward expectantly to see how the star will perform 32 fouettes—rapid-fire whipping turns in which the dancer extends one leg high and forward, then snaps it 180 degrees to the back while spinning on the toes of her other foot. Mayumi Hanabusa, who alternated performances with Kathryn Beasley Gager, proved unequal to the task on Saturday night: She only did 27 fouettes, and out of rhythm at that. She lost her center spot and “traveled” from her point of origin rather than staying in place. Her energy noticeably flagging, she quit early and struck a pose.
Much more of a problem was the dancer’s lack of emotion. Her frigidity contrasted noticeably with the lushness of the violin solo in Act 2 and countermanded the whole thrust of this drama, which revolves around the themes of true love and noble sacrifice. When her partner rocked her tenderly in his arms, the ballerina kept her guard up and yielded not a muscle to passion.
A proper corps de ballet, sometimes numbering over 60 dancers, is expected to move as one giant machine in Swan Lake and to maintain rows or formations with rigorous accuracy. Arms, heads, and even fingers must extend at exactly the same angle from the dancers’ bodies. Elaine Thomas is to be commended for drilling her young charges, most of them students, into a viable corps de ballet that performed with scarcely a misstep. Unfortunately, she only had as few as 10 swans onstage at some points, and the lack of resources necessitated “fixing” the original choreography with repetitious patchwork to fill out the measures.
The final consideration in presenting a classic such as this is integrity: The directors and performers must be true to the choreographer’s original intent and mount it as accurately as possible. In the Nashville Ballet version, some new choreography has been added here and there, notably a solo for the disconsolate Prince. Tinkering is one thing, but changing the choreography because the corps de ballet’s technique is not up to par is another. For example, one of the most exquisite scenes in the ballet occurs when opposing lines of 60 swans crisscross the stage, hopping gently on one foot while the other is extended high in the back in perfect arabesque. This entire section was omitted.
Much more questionable, a number of soloists and even the leading dancers chose to omit the final few steps of a variation because they lacked the stamina to finish. If the dancers are not up to speed, it raises questions about the wisdom of mounting such a daunting production in the first place.
Is it fair to compare our Nashville Ballet to the Bolshoi or Royal Ballets? Yes, because there are widely accepted criteria by which Swan Lake is judged. A double standard would be patronizing to all concerned.
On the whole, company members should be praised for their heroic efforts, especially given that a scarcity of resources necessitated the best dancers undertaking as many as four or more roles throughout the evening—and made it impossible to invite guest artists for the leading roles. But then, this raises the question as to why those in charge selected this particular ballet in the first place, particularly when there are plenty of other ballets in the company’s repertoire—by Paul Vasterling, Mark Dendy, and others—that showcase its strengths rather than its weaknesses.
As it stands now, directors and board dared to take on this masterpiece and will be judged by the company they keep. By the same token, a rookie pitcher thrown into the last inning of the last game of the World Series would be judged strictly on his performance and not be excused on the grounds of youthfulness. More to the point, though, fans and players alike would question the team manager’s judgment.
