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Reviews Don Quixote Choreography by by Alun Jones after Marius Petipa
Reviewed by Sherry Deatrick Entire contents are copyright © 2009 Sherry Deatrick. All rights reserved. The Louisville Ballet's production of Don Quixote (based on the novel by Miguel de Cervantes) is the perfect beginning to our expanded coverage of the performing arts as it is heavily theatrical. The ballet, by Marius Petipa and composer Ludwig Minkus, opened in 1869 at the Bolshoi Theater to great acclaim. Drawing from the well of Commedia dell'Arte, the dancers use exaggerated pantomime along with flawlessly executed ballet to tell the story of young lovers who must overcome obstacles. The ballet is more about these lovers than the strangely deluded Don Quixote. On opening night, Artistic Director Bruce Simpson (wearing a kilt) and Executive Director Dwight Hutton introduced the show and the world-renowned guest conductor, Leslie Dunner. Hutton led the audience in a moving moment of silence for all who have given their lives in combat, including innocent victims, and hoped that the performance would serve to lighten our hearts. Not only were they lightened, they soared in celebration of all that's good in humanity. The stage is framed by an elaborate arch that looks like fossilized rock, or an entrance to an ancient cave. At rise, we see Don Quixote's servants messing about while cleaning. The room, furnished with a plush chair and large book-laden table, is darkened by a screen. It's as if we're slowly adjusting our eyes to a dream. Don Quixote (David Thurmond) makes a grand entrance, lost in thoughts of ancient chivalry. While Don Quixote wields his giant sword, a servant mocks him by wielding a broom. In a dazzling feat of special effects, the spectre-like Dulcinea (Kathleen Dwyer) appears through the mist. She's Don Quixote's ideal yet unattainable woman. Don Quixote drifts further into sleep. As the screen lifts and the stage brightens, he's awakened by the servants' comic chase of a chicken thief, Sancho Panza, whom Don Quixote appoints as his squire. Is Don Quixote dreaming of Fiesta Day in Barcelona? Possibly. There, we meet Kitri (Natalia Ashikhmina), the lovely daughter of Lorenzo, the innkeeper (Kristopher Wojtera), in an elaborate multi-level set designed by Alun Jones. She knows how to flirt, and soons wins the heart of the impoverished barber, Basilio (Joseph Nygren), in a delightful game of cat and mouse. (Note: the principal dancers listed were those on opening night. Other performances feature a different cast.) Of course, there would be no drama if the two lovers could simply dance off into the Spanish sunset. Lorenzo has other ideas about who should marry Kitri. He'd rather see her with the buffoonish but rich Gamache (Morgan Hulen). Hulen's Gamache is like a traditional Whiteface clown, a contradiction in terms for a normally graceful ballet dancer. Gamache is clumsy and foppish, and Kitri can't stand him. After all, who could stomach being married to a clown, even if his wallet's fat? After a rousing dance led by Mercedes (Helen Daigle), the champion matador and his companions (decked out like peacocks) enter the square in a grand parade. The women wear muted yet flouncy Flamenco-style outfits during the "mating" ritual with the matadors. The audience involuntarily let out a collective "awwwww" when Don Quixote enters to save the day, riding a rather sedate, but live, horse. (The program says Sancho Panza rides a mule, but I didn't see it.) I felt transported to another time, when live animals were commonly brought on stage. (They didn't call it a hippodrome for no reason.) Even more remarkable, the horse (whose real name is Matt) didn't mess up the brand new stage floor. All this (and more) happens in the first of three acts. The second act begins with the lovers dancing under a full moon, in a gypsy camp to which they've fled. They lovingly begin to explore each other in a wondrous pas de deux, bound by a purple cloth that draws them ever more tightly entwined. They move as one. Basilio lifts Kitri to the stars, promising with his body to always complete her and be her foundation. Likewise, she wordlessly promises to never stray far from his arms. This tender moment is soon interrupted by harsh reality, with Lorenzo and Gamache in hot pursuit. The gypsies hide the lovers while providing a distraction. In a clever puppet show that mirrors the lovers' struggles, the crowd is cowed until Don Quixote, that Nowhere Man who misunderstands all he sees, disrupts the show. Isn't he a bit like you and me? After tilting at a windmill, our hero falls into a deeper sleep, where he dreams again of the angelic Dulcinea, who is accompanied by the mythical Amour and many tree spirits. I hesitate to say this is the best part of the performance, because it's all splendid, but this scene was the most awe-inspiring. Don Quixote stands to one side, quietly admiring and reaching out futilely for these nature-women. In their white tutus, they look and move like flowers floating on a peaceful pond. They danced in perfectly timed entrechats, as replicas of each other, yet each dancer shone as an individual. Helen Daigle's Queen of the Dryads was a crowd pleaser. This scene is a little side trip to heaven, and I could have watched it for hours. The romantic music, with lots of harp, added to that ethereal feeling. All dreams must end, unfortunately. In the third act, we're back at the inn, with the harsh light of day streaming onto the square. I won't say more except that our hero does indeed save the day and all ends happily after a slapstick series of events loaded with humorous pratfalls, underscored by clownlike horn toots from the fabulous Louisville Orchestra. Ashikhmina is simply astounding, light as air, whether pirouetting on one toe, or stretching into positions impossible for most human beings to attain. Cox is outstanding as her partner. The two fit together in perfect pas de deux. After the show, I spoke briefly with Mr. Hutton, who told me that David Thurmond (who plays Don Quixote) was Helen Starr's original partner. I asked because there was no mention of him in the program, except to say that he plays Don Quixote. He imbued Don Quixote with charm and grace, despite his character's impetuosity and misperceptions. Without him, the story would not be magical. This is one action-packed ballet. At times, it's like a silent movie from the early years of cinema, reaching deeply into our collective memories. The ballet movements are at once stilted (puppetlike) yet fluid, showing us how we can choose to appear if we try. Like life, Don Quixote is a multi-layered dream that changes with our perception. With this remarkable performance, highly polished and fanatically professional, The Louisville Ballet is off to a roaring start of its 2009-10 season. It saddens me that after all their hard work, this show runs for only two days. But that's a subject for an editorial.
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