Amid the grandiose of the Birmingham Hippodrome, charismatic conductor Wolfgang Heinz raised his hands and wondrously celestial music accompanied the rise of the velvet curtain.
At first a quaint little rural farmyard, the set didn’t fail to impress at the beginning of all three acts. Unexpectedly, we were introduced to a cockerel and his hens who began a comical yet striking dance of awakening as morning dawned in the hushed theatre. But it was abundantly clear that Choreographer Sir Frederick Ashton knew what he was doing.
Daintily, the angelical Lise (Beatrice Parma) made her first appearance in a routine of mesmerising gaiety and delightful humour as she set about her chores whilst trying to avoid her officious mother. Soon after, the proud yet penniless farmhand Colas (Enrique Bejarano Vidal) began an enthralling display of deep devotion to his clandestine lover. As he pirouetted and leaped to the spectacular crescendos of the gifted orchestra, I was so awed that I genuinely forgot I was in rainy Birmingham.
When the passionate, young couple finally escaped Widow Simone (Rory Mackay), the dance that ensued seemed to defy gravity; both my plus-one and I gave an involuntary gasp at the first astonishing lift. We could barely believe our eyes.
But it was when all the villagers in their frivolous costumes performed their first kaleidoscopic group number with flowing skirts and joyous colour that I truly left Birmingham and stepped right into the most opulent of fairy tales.
Directed by none other than the acclaimed Carlos Acosta, whose ingenuity was such that La Fille Mal Gardée is perfectly adapted for anyone from young children to the most hardcore ballet fanatics. One audience member I spoke to who’d been to all the classics, said that this one was by far the most fun. Though new to the world of ballet, there was no doubt he was right. The hopelessly ditsy Alain delighted the audience as he attempted to woo a bemused Lise in maladroit yet exceptionally talented choreography that had the elderly couple behind me chuckling throughout.
Though Alain and Widow Simone brought a slapstick and almost pantomime-like element to the piece, as my friend rightly pointed out, its whimsicality did not detract from the raw, classical skill displayed by every dancer in the diverse cast. If anything, its originality makes this particular ballet so special. Clog, maypole, and Morris dancing also snuck their way in, as well as an actual pony!
No scene failed to amaze me, and the blissful two hours was without a doubt an indulgent feast for the ears and eyes. At one point, I felt so overcome by the joy on stage that I felt strangely emotional.
Cliché it may be, but it was in the Hippodrome on a sombre September night, that I truly discovered what it was to escape reality.
La Fille Mal Gardée is a performance I’ll never forget.
Image credit Riku Ito
First published by Elementary Whatson
0 Comments