John Lanchbery patched together an assortment of compositions by Liszt, including his "Mephisto" waltzes and "Totentanz," as well as some lilting folk tunes. We have learned nothing about the motivations of any of the characters they remain strictly two-dimensional. (Why did they only bring one with them?) Then, after Dracula has flown up to the ceiling and plopped himself down on the chandelier in a disappointingly small cloud of smoke, Svetlana and Fredrick stay in his bedroom to again swear their love in another drag-her-across-the-floor duet. As Franz Liszt's music thrashes and soars, the dancers launch into a cartoon caper over who can get his hands on the crucifix and wave it around in time. Svetlana has been whisked off in Dracula's rickety carriage and is about to become his next meal, when in pops Fredrick, the priest and assorted villagers. The ballet's close is bewilderingly undramatic. We get a brief flash of the exhilarating technical strengths of each only at the very end. Anderson and Acosta's duet is strangely pallid.
The ensemble dancing is repetitive, though exuberantly performed. Yet quoting from the classics only points up the lack of resemblance. This scene borrows much from well-known works such as "Giselle," and even has a touch of that ballet's mad scene when the Old Woman (Carmen Mathe) is moved to communicate something about the evil vampire through muddled mime. But even here, where Fredrick declares his love to Svetlana before a gathering of fellow peasants, the air feels heavy. Things pick up somewhat in the second act, set in a Transylvanian village against the formidably steep Carpathians (the evocatively rendered sets are by Thomas Boyd Judanna Lynn designed the rich, vibrant costumes). We begin with the somnolent air of the opening act, in the stone-walled catacombs, where despite the efforts of the willowy virgins in low-cut negligees, the most exciting choreography is for Dracula's sweeping purple cape. Foremost is the unbearably slow general pacing of the evening-length work and the decidedly flat choreography. The corps de ballet women play Dracula's harem of swoony brides.īut however straightforward the story-Dracula seeks young women's necks to drain he steals first Flora, then Svetlana faithful Fredrick and the priest steal her back-Stevenson's work runs into several problems. The ballet boils the plot down to its barest elements: You've got your vampire (Timothy O'Keefe), your initial victim (Virginia native Kathryn Warakomsky as Flora), your innocent young lovers (Lauren Anderson as Svetlana and Carlos Acosta as Fredrick) and your cross-wielding priest (Phillip Broomhead). Making the book into a ballet is certainly a plausible idea there are several leading characters, plenty of action, hearty doses of fear and violence as well as the big box-office bonus, sex. Stevenson based his three-act ballet loosely on the Bram Stoker novel (the ballet premiered in 1997, the year of the story's centenary). Last night, the Houston Ballet brought its remarkably unremarkable version of "Dracula," choreographed by company Artistic Director Ben Stevenson, to the Kennedy Center Opera House. The myth of the bloodsucking, maiden-hunting undead demon captured humanity's imagination centuries ago, leading to a veritable vampire industry over the years. No matter the wooden stakes, crucifixes, braided garlic and hawthorn bushes that have been used against him-Dracula will never die.
0 kommentar(er)
