La Magia de la Danza :: Alicia Alonso and Ballet Nacional de Cuba at BAM
June 11, 2011
Brooklyn Academy of Music dance goers saw a dazzling show of technical and theatrical virtuosity melded with brilliant stagecraft opening night June 8. Ballet Nacional de Cuba performed La Magia de la Danza. The satisfying program comprises classical excerpts, all with the same basic structure: corps, pas de deux, variations for him and then her, corps. The variations start in the right, upstage corner. The ballerina's second variation begins closer on the male’s heels, accelerating the dance with the quickening music. These guideposts help us keep our bearings while drawn into “la magia.”
In Giselle, the first display, the Wilis (lost souls) regiment is surely impressive. The fog, stars, lighting, painted backdrop and fire curtain are delightful old world craft. Not to mention the spirited live Orquesta Cubano conducted by Giovanni Duarte. Jetés are a weak point; the corps exits noisily with their heads down in a galloping march. Yet, the women float in lifts. Anette Delgado as Giselle is noiseless. Her centeredness is a company trait, along with her expressive, stretched poses. She has free rotation and maximum mobility in her powerful upper body.
There are no pauses between dances; the scenes change instantly. We are magically transported to Petipa’s Russia. In the Sleeping Beauty Act III wedding entertainment, Alfredo Ibáñez as Prince Desiré lifts Aurora (Yanela Piñera) in gravity-defying fish dives. Her traveling turns are the highlight. We see why the company is renown for pirouettes.
The Waltz of the Flowers and the Grand Pas de Deux from the Nutcracker, against a backdrop of candy sweet painted interior, is meltingly over-the-top. The Sugarplum Fairy is Bárbara García and gracious beyond belief. During intermission, a colleague likened her to Alicia Alonso. (This colleague had seen the great director and prima ballerina assoluta dance.) García embodies the playful naturalism of old-world, Soviet bloc ballet.
They impressed us with form and innovation. Quality over quantity convinced us of the magic.
After intermission, they dance scenes from Coppélia against a backdrop of onion-domed church spires. In the Mazurka, the men’s red jackets have large yellow palmate fronds or radiating sun emblems. The highlight is the darkest-skinned Osiel Gounod, in blue, who is clearly the company star. He bounds in the famous space-eating leap with his forward knee bent; forceful beats give him extra aerodynamic force. When he spins like a top, the crowd goes wild. Swanilda (Grettel Morejón) performs difficult chassé traveling and hopping on point, hinting at her doll beginnings in this ballet.
The fight scene in Don Quixote is farcical. The men use daggers and the women, closed fans. The pageantry amuses but the combat is as unreal as the red capes draped around their fighting arm to signify blood. Viengsay Valdés sustains long balances en pointe in moments of enthralling stillness. Yet her Jetés are earthbound. As Kitri, she laces fast pirouettes into her dozen-or-so crowd-pleasing fouettes. So far in La Magia, they impress us with form and feat; they seem to care little for record-breaking.
The corps set us up for a tear-jerker Swan Lake. Their fingers ripple, suggesting the feathery tips of the bird’s wings. By now we are ready to believe in the magic. In a watery duet, Sadaise Arencibia and Arián Molina beautifully convince us that we’re watching a man and a swan dancing together. I heard a swan call from the audience. Hooooooo.
Alicia Alonso’s Gottschalk Symphony to music by Louis Moreau Gottschalk is like a grand défilé finale, full of nationalistic pomp and red and yellow pageantry. Four principal couples make an appearance, but sadly, Gounod does not return. BNC showed us the beautiful dancers, art, and craft extant in their country. It was an eye opener, and a door opener.