Giselle
Cinderella
Defining precisely what is classical generates many questions. How old must a work be before it’s withstood the test of time? Is a classic honored in a Confucian manner–just because it’s old? Or is it something more? We are social animals who make art to satisfy an expressive need we cannot satisfy any other way, and in the process come to know ourselves again and again. Regarding a classic as “been there, done that” is nonsense; it is not about closure but about restating the enigma of life. Performed again, classics show us our growth and recover nuances, feelings, and insights that without reenactment would be lost. BTC’s Giselle illuminates two rival forces in contemporary dance. Act two is one of the great “white ballets,” a precursor of abstract modern dance. Yet the tragedy of Giselle, which implicitly suggests the destructiveness of classism, parallels the resurgence of narrative and exploded personal experience in postmodern dance.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Giselle is a 19th-century work originally choreographed by Jules Perrot and Jean Coralli, with music by Adolphe Adam; BTC’s version is a staging by American Ballet Theatre’s Ivan Nagy. A Rhineland village maiden is courted by an aristocrat in disguise. He pledges his love, and Giselle gives him her heart. When Giselle’s woodsman suitor reveals that Albrecht is an aristocrat, she confronts her high-born betrothed. In that scene Giselle loses her mind and dies. In act two, one of the most celebrated scenes in ballet, Albrecht visits Giselle’s grave and finds that she’s become a Wili, or the ghost of a maiden whose love was unfulfilled. The stage is filled with pale ethereal Wilis taunting the men who visit them, but Giselle’s love for Albrecht transcends the grave and they dance an achingly beautiful pas de deux.
The corps de ballet performed with synchrony and finesse, giving the immortal scene of rows of Wilis hopping in arabesque a satisfying reality. Benson’s transformation into an ethereal being was total, her extensions seemingly effortless in her precarious encounters with her beloved visitor. Again and again she captured the spiritual tug of forces drawing her to Albrecht and pulling her back to the realm of unfulfilled ghosts. Balancing on pointe, reaching as if to escape, her epaulement betrayed her longing as she twisted to find Albrecht: battling forces found expression in her very body.
Cinderella is first and foremost a beloved children’s story, and this is where good character work comes in. The acting of the two stepsisters and the stepmother was effective, not overdone, and pleasurable for its dramatic clarity and humor. Courtney Kalata, playing the Dumpy Stepsister, stood out as the most inspired local talent. She explored the range of this odd character–from village idiot to quarterback to lust-driven cheerleader–with a ludicrous fervor, bringing an inner tug to the entertaining parody. Gordon Peirce Schmidt, who played the stepmother in drag, never overplayed the role, keeping it well within the confines of a ballet performance; this control balanced his physical stature and allowed nuances of character to develop over the course of the performance. Together these actor-dancers–and Todd Brown, who played the daunted dancing master hired to teach the ugly sisters–amounted to a fine little ensemble.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): Uncredited photo of “Giselle”.
