BWW Reviews: ROYAL DANISH BALLET: PRINCIPALS AND SOLOISTS, A Joyous and Polite Precision

Few choreographers have been as studied as Bournonville. His works have been analyzed for historical context, symbolism and political perspectives. It is perhaps because he's of such a both distinct and distant zeitgeist that his work is timeless. Through six compositions, "The Royal Danish Ballet: Principals and Soloists" at the Joyce Theatre honored the choreographer's attention to precise musical movement and warm joy.

The program commenced with a balletic amuse bouche, the pas de sept from "A Folk Tale." The music by Niels V. Gade was prerecorded, as was all music in the concert. Atmospheric lighting and sets were shelved, due to practicality. Yet, even the most attention deficit among us could be enthralled by the ever present and kinetic dancing. The pas de sept is a conceptually vacant canvas on which one can percieve the physical intricacies of Bournonville's choreographic perspective.

The second composition was a tradition rich pas de deux from "The Flower Festival in Genzano." Through the performance by Ida Praetorius and Andreas Kaas, the stage became a glowing hearth. I find the Bournonville tradition most easily compared to the works of Rogers and Hammerstein. It's sincere, warm, and at times quietly existential. Predating the advent of high Romantic melodrama, so easily tangible in the near orgastic Russian bravura, Bournonville painted his dance in translucent watercolor. The characters which Ms. Ida Praetorius and Mr. Kaas presented don't contain depth of conflict. With H.S. Paulli's music, they seemed to dance from an endless wellspring of joy. The choreography and the dexterity of the performers made plain an rigorous and heartfelt enthusiasm, reinforced by Mr. Kaas' breathtaking leaps.

"The Jockey Dance" from "From Siberia to Moscow," is a charming duet performed by Sebastian Haynes and Marcin Kupinski. The topicality of the choice from the 19th century might make this Bournonville's most noticeably dated work. The performers attempt to bring its inherent fun to the audience with constant mugging and through continually amplifying the comedic aspects C.C. Moller's music. While not vapid, "The Jockey Dance" seemed to be lost in the charm of a topic which has some extinguished relevancy, even though both performers sold it well with fun character rich interpretation.

Closing the first portion was the second act of one of the great ballets of the 19th century, "La Sylphide." Legendarily performed by Marie Tagolini at The Paris Opera House in 1832, and then brought to Denmark by Bournonville in 1836, the ballet has withstood an unbroken performance tradition. Here, the comedic choreographer tries his hand at tragedy, and to stirring success. "La Sylphide" follows the hero James, a Scotsman who abandons high society to follow a sylph. He catches the sylph who, now captive, dies. The flight of the sylph, unlike the swan, is subtle and delicate. Ms. Bojesen's pointe work rendered the role otherworldly. Ulrik Birkkjaer also astonished with staggering leaps. This piece does suffer more than any other on the program from the lack of design atmosphere. Also, the multitude of Sylphs made possible by a Danish ensemble has been reduced to a talented trio of Susanne Grinder, Kizzy Matiakis, and Femke Slot. While emotionally the piece doesn't fulfill what its full production accomplishes, the delicacy which Bournonville treats fairy tale tragedy is refreshing.

The second act of the program begins with a delightful pas de trois from "Conservatoire." Gudrun Bojesen, Diani Cuni, and Ulrik Birkkjaer construct fascinating physical music. This pas de trois also does well to serve as a drum roll to the program's grand finale, the third act from "Napoli." While in "La Sylphide" the lack of design hinders emotional communication, in "Napoli" the stage's bareness extends its present joy to the audience. There is never a distance between the audience experiencing the performers and the performers experiencing their own choreographic jubilation. While all performers seemed incapable of frowning, their smiles don't come across as plastic. When one watches the Royal Danish Ballet one has the sense that there is no place in the world the dancers on stage would rather be.

The Royal Danish Ballet dancers are human and humorous. The dance isn't colloquial. It is technique laden and takes physical stamina and concentration, but in performance it is joyous.

Photo by Costin Radu

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