‘Tempest’ is one sophisticated spectacle
Houston Ballet adds depth with strong performances by the large cast
Civilization could be improved if everyone who ever held a grudge could forgive his enemies, as Prospero eventually does in “The Tempest.”
The dance world, at least, is better for having David Bintley’s new ballet version of “The Tempest” in it.
Bintley’s choreography brings the complex elements of William Shakespeare’s late-period romance evocatively into focus, without words, on the wings of Sally Beamish’s atmospheric score and Rae Smith’s riveting designs. Houston Ballet and its orchestra gave the sophisticated spectacle a thrilling ride during the production’s American premiere Thursday.
And what a spectacle it is, spinning visual magic with relatively efficient means. Smith, who is perhaps best known as the designer of “War Horse” for Britain’s National Theatre, frames the proscenium with an aperturelike structure that telescopes toward the action. When a turbulent, watery scrim rises, big drama comes from a gracefully sculpted rear set: Its drapey shape variously resembles the bowels of a ship, waves, sand dunes and curtains as changing light embraces its shadowy folds. Half of it flies away at the end, for a surprise reveal.
Bintley’s deft use of flying also adds depth, taking viewers underwater as the spirit creature Ariel “swims” and Ferdinand nearly drowns. A strong sense of otherworldly magic also permeates the score, nicely expressed through ground-based choreography for Ariel and colorful armies of Sea Nymphs, Strange Fish, Spirits of the Feast, Reapers and skeletal Hunting Hounds.
Ermanno Florio, the magician leading the orchestra, delivers along with everyone else throughout it all, finding all the right notes in Beamish’s mix of harmony and dissonance. The music captures the essence of Shakespeare’s spirit, from its quietest moments to stormy surges, like waves receding and advancing.
Bintley stays faithful to Shakespeare’s script, only shifting Act 1’s telling of Prospero’s backstory to Act 2, when we care more about him. There, the flashback doesn’t slow the unfolding action of the shipwreck that brings King Alonso, his son, Ferdinand, and their entourage to the island where the magician and former duke Prospero and his daughter, Miranda, have been banished for 12 years.
In films, the vengeful Prospero (usurped by his brother, Antonio, who also is on the ship), is often portrayed as an old man. But Miranda is only 15, so Bintley makes his Prospero a handsome, virile middle-aged character. This adds a note of tension to his fatherly protectiveness as he saves her from the advances of his savage slave, Caliban, and slowly accepts her love for Ferdinand.
Ian Casady, exercising considerable acting skill, summons a brooding, angry aura in the protagonist’s role. There are moments, especially in Act 2, when I wish Bintley had used more dance to express Prospero’s emotions. Casady stands around a lot, feet powerfully planted, raising his arms or brandishing his enchanted staff with steely authority as he conjures vengeful trouble.
Karina Gonzalez’s breezy, innocent Miranda is perfectly suited for Connor Walsh’s gentle Ferdinand. Their relationship deepens palpably through two pas de deux whose romance builds along with the closest thing to a sustained melody in the score.
Bintley has created quite a gift for male dancers with secondary roles full of swift footwork, leaps and acrobatics. Derek Dunn’s agile and dynamic Ariel is appropriately masculine, as at ease in the air as he is lurking behind the humans, wreaking havoc.
Brian Waldrep makes Caliban intriguingly complex, fierce but with a forlorn undercurrent that makes you feel sorry for him. He takes up with the court jester Trinculo and the drunken butler Stephano like a guy starved for friendship.
Oliver Halkowich and William Newton nearly steal the show in those two stylized roles, funny and endearingly human. Halkowich’s befuddled Trinculo see-saws stiffly on his flat feet. Newton’s sprightly, flighty Stephano fairly levitates in his big, pointy shoes.
The masque Prospero conjures for Miranda and Ferdinand’s wedding introduces a large cast of mythological characters as they might have been interpreted during the Elizabethan era. Chun Wai Chan shines as the swift, showy Neptune. Jessica Collado is pure sunshine as Ceres, goddess of the harvest. Hayden Stark, as Pan, the god of wine and revelry, pursues her with gleeful impishness.
Madeline Skelly is an appealingly floaty Iris, goddess of the air; and Soo Youn Cho, who arrives on a shimmering peacock swing after appearing earlier as Prospera, Miranda’s mother, is an elegant Juno, the goddess of marriage.
The masque feels too long, although it’s hard to complain when the time is filled with stellar dancing.
Bintley also knows how to use stillness. This is where I give him the benefit of the doubt about Prospero, who is clearly mired in his personal tempest as his world swirls around him. Especially at the end, during his moment of revelation, when Bintley lets the music take over.
As Prospero finally bestows a gift upon Caliban and turns to leave the island, I feel just enough of a knot in my throat to know I’ve experienced something close to profound.