News
21.03.2011
by LAURENCE RIDGWAY
It might not be fair Verona, but the Musa Jalil Opera and Ballet Theatre makes an equally grand setting for the classic ballet “Romeo and Juliet,” Shakespeare’s poignant tale of two star-crossed lovers.
Matinee performances can often seem to lack a certain quality present in evening showings, a certain intangible energy, however, this was rarely the case during the performance on 13 March. From the opening scene, Boris Myagov’s lively choreography brought the hustle and bustle of a bright Verona morning brilliantly to life with some very neatly performed ensemble work. This was soon followed by a truly gripping fight scene, in which the entire stage seemed to be suddenly filled with sword-wielding Montagues and Capulets, ducking, diving, and rolling in perfect timing to Sergei Prokofiev’s memorable score.
Amongst these stage-filling sequences were many equally memorable solo performances. Of particular note was Rooslan Savdenov’s Mercucio. His lively and often humorous rendering of this bold, irreverent, but ultimately doomed character gained a deservedly rapturous applause at the final curtain.
It was, though, a great shame that these excellent performances were accompanied only by a recording of Prokofiev’s score. One of the highlights of any performance of “Romeo and Juliet” should be hearing and indeed watching an orchestra playing this stirring score, especially such well-known movements as the “Dance of the Knights.” Perhaps it was this absence that was responsible for the somewhat flat feel of the ball scene, in which, for the only time during the ballet, Myagov’s choreography failed to conjure the truly frightening, but ultimately futile arrogance of the feuding Capulet grandees.
Still, this rare shortcoming was more than made up for by the brilliant performances of the two lovers. Yulia Pozdnyakova as Juliet proved herself to be a true talent, performing complex and breath-taking routines with a grace and elegance which, if not always entirely convincing as a young lover, was certainly proof of her exceptional ability. Meanwhile, Michail Timaev was the perfect Romeo, producing a display not only of technical brilliance, but also one that conveyed the narcissistic immaturity of Shakespeare fickle young lover. Indeed, it was thanks to these two fine performances that the famous balcony scene, ending with the two lovers gracefully tumbling across the stage in a perfect moment of immature yet irrepressible infatuation, remained the enduring memory of this fine ballet.
The seats at the back of the lofty heights of an opera theatre are often dismissed as the so-called cheap seats and scorned by respectable theatregoers. However, there is, in truth, something special about gazing down over the performers, over the heads of the audience, even over the vast chandelier hanging from the domed ceiling, glistening with a gentle glow in the glare of the spotlights. Rightly are these seats sometimes referred to as ‘the gods,’ for, as I looked out from my very own Olympus on such a quality performance, I felt a true sense of the almost heavenly beauty of the ballet.
Copyright www.thekazanherald.com
In Fair Kazan, Where We Lay Our Scene
In Fair Kazan, Where We Lay Our Scene—Dance Reviewby LAURENCE RIDGWAY
It might not be fair Verona, but the Musa Jalil Opera and Ballet Theatre makes an equally grand setting for the classic ballet “Romeo and Juliet,” Shakespeare’s poignant tale of two star-crossed lovers.
Matinee performances can often seem to lack a certain quality present in evening showings, a certain intangible energy, however, this was rarely the case during the performance on 13 March. From the opening scene, Boris Myagov’s lively choreography brought the hustle and bustle of a bright Verona morning brilliantly to life with some very neatly performed ensemble work. This was soon followed by a truly gripping fight scene, in which the entire stage seemed to be suddenly filled with sword-wielding Montagues and Capulets, ducking, diving, and rolling in perfect timing to Sergei Prokofiev’s memorable score.
Amongst these stage-filling sequences were many equally memorable solo performances. Of particular note was Rooslan Savdenov’s Mercucio. His lively and often humorous rendering of this bold, irreverent, but ultimately doomed character gained a deservedly rapturous applause at the final curtain.
It was, though, a great shame that these excellent performances were accompanied only by a recording of Prokofiev’s score. One of the highlights of any performance of “Romeo and Juliet” should be hearing and indeed watching an orchestra playing this stirring score, especially such well-known movements as the “Dance of the Knights.” Perhaps it was this absence that was responsible for the somewhat flat feel of the ball scene, in which, for the only time during the ballet, Myagov’s choreography failed to conjure the truly frightening, but ultimately futile arrogance of the feuding Capulet grandees.
Still, this rare shortcoming was more than made up for by the brilliant performances of the two lovers. Yulia Pozdnyakova as Juliet proved herself to be a true talent, performing complex and breath-taking routines with a grace and elegance which, if not always entirely convincing as a young lover, was certainly proof of her exceptional ability. Meanwhile, Michail Timaev was the perfect Romeo, producing a display not only of technical brilliance, but also one that conveyed the narcissistic immaturity of Shakespeare fickle young lover. Indeed, it was thanks to these two fine performances that the famous balcony scene, ending with the two lovers gracefully tumbling across the stage in a perfect moment of immature yet irrepressible infatuation, remained the enduring memory of this fine ballet.
The seats at the back of the lofty heights of an opera theatre are often dismissed as the so-called cheap seats and scorned by respectable theatregoers. However, there is, in truth, something special about gazing down over the performers, over the heads of the audience, even over the vast chandelier hanging from the domed ceiling, glistening with a gentle glow in the glare of the spotlights. Rightly are these seats sometimes referred to as ‘the gods,’ for, as I looked out from my very own Olympus on such a quality performance, I felt a true sense of the almost heavenly beauty of the ballet.
Copyright www.thekazanherald.com
