Poor and Parisian, with passion
it at the court of Louis XV in exchange for her virtue. Already there is the sulphuric whiff of a Faustian pact.
Bulgarian baritone Vladimir Stoyanov plays both Tchaikovsky and Yeletsky. The former wears an ill-fitting suit, scribbles ineffectively at a score with a quill pen, and is generally mocked by all. In contrast, Yeletsky is courtly, bewigged and delivers a noble aria of renunciation when he realises Liza is not in love with him.
Philipp Furhofer’s designs are stunning, morphing from one elaborate interior to another via black mirrors and lurching walls. Shock visual effects include two dozen Tchaikovsky clones bearing candelabra and glasses glowing with cholera water.
The masked ball in Act II culminates in the entire audience being urged by the chorus to rise to their feet to honour the Tsarina’s arrival.
The singing is variable. Tenor Alexsandr Antonenko is shouty as Gherman while Felicity Palmer delivers the Countess’s magical aria “Je crains de lui parler la nuit” so softly as to be virtually inaudible in the amphitheatre. But music director Antonio Pappano conducts the orchestra of the Royal Opera at a fast pace.
The Queen of Spades will be shown in UK cinemas on January 22 and 27; La Traviata on January 30 and February 3, with both also broadcast to cinemas around the world. London Coliseum, WC2
(Tickets: 020 7845 9300/ ballet.org.uk; £14-£80, until today)
KENNETH MACMILLAN’S passionate ballet is set in 18th-century France where extreme poverty co-exists with extravagant wealth. Happy and innocent Manon (Alina Cojocaru) is torn between her love for penniless student Des Grieux and wealthy Monsieur GM who lures the naive convent girl into becoming his mistress with furs and jewellery. But tragedy awaits her.
MacMillan choregraphed this dark romantic tragedy in 1974. It is a complex three-act story with a considerable number of dancers who bring the historic Parisian demi-monde alive as rich gentlemen of a certain age chase girls for hire.
Cojocaru, small and childlike, is perfect for the role of Manon. She keeps her strong and virtuoso technique well under control and the dramatic development of her character is of prime importance. As Manon realises the power she has over men, she dances with tremendous passion.
Cojocaru’s classical technique is stunning. She is precisely the sort of dancer admired by the late MacMillan and, watching her, you see the depth and emotional power of his creative influence.
However Joseph Caley as Des Grieux only intermittently captures the tragedy of the work. He often switches off to deal with technically difficult steps and occasionally looks like he’s hanging on for grim death when MacMillan’s partnering becomes difficult to do as well as to watch.
Jeffrey Cirio excels as Manon’s scheming brother Lescaut and Fabian Reimair is the repulsive jailer who forces himself on our heroine.
Massenet’s haunting score is brought to life by the ENB Philharmonic under Gavin Sutherland and the last pas de deux would make a statue weep. Des Grieux never gives up on Manon and the couple come to a tragic end in each other’s arms.
The ENB has a grip on the heart of the work and MacMillan would have loved every minute of it. It has sold 100,000 West End seats in the past couple of months with works old and modern all proving popular with audiences, something worthy of a huge pat on the back.
Artistic director and internationally respected dancer Tamara Rojo has guided the company for seven years. Proof of her success is evident not merely from bums on seats on one side of the curtain but from the vastly improved dancers on stage.