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Film and the Arts

Ballet Classic "Giselle" Performed at Met Opera House

Skylar Brandt and Herman Cornejo in Giselle. Photo: Rosalie O’Connor.
 
At the Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center on the evening of Wednedsay, July 5th, I had the especial privilege to attend a thrilling performance of the American Ballet Theater production of the wonderful, perennially popular Giselle, “the oldest continually-performed ballet,” according to the company’s program note.

Giselle is set to a memorably tuneful score—excellently orchestrated by John Lanchbery and here expertly conducted by Charles Barker—by the distinguished nineteenth-century French composer, Adolphe Adam (who also wrote the Christmas carol known in English as “O Holy Night”). According to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, 

The idea for the ballet Giselle originated with French poet and novelist Théophile Gautier, who took an interest in German poet Heinrich Heine’s retelling of a Slavic legend concerning the wilis, ghostly spirits of girls who have died before their wedding day. Gautier imagined a version in which a girl betrayed by her beloved dies of a broken heart but returns as a spirit to save him from retribution by the vengeful wilis. Her merciful act saves her from becoming a wili herself.

b94a8882-7919-41ea-ade2-b6d2c1d00813The remarkable choreography is after that of Jean Coralli, Jules Perrot and that of the immortal Marius Petipa, in a solid staging by Kevin McKenzie, with attractive scenery by Gianni Quaranta, beautiful costumes by Anna Anni, and effective lighting by Jennifer Tipton

The performance featured an extraordinary cast led by Skylar Brandt in the title role—she was brilliant and is becoming one of the finest ballerinas in the company. Her partner, who is still in impeccable form as a dancer, was Herman Cornejo as Count Albrecht. Admirable too was Andrii Ishchuk as Hilarion, the Village Huntsman and outstanding among the primary cast was Chloe Misseldine—here replacing Zhong-Jing Fang—as Myrta. The secondary cast was also stellar: Zimmi Coker and Jake Roxander created an unusually strong impression in the Peasant Pas de Deux in Act I while the glorious Act II was magnificently adorned by Erica Lall as Moyna and Isadora Loyola as Zulma. The main non-dancing roles were played by Luis Ribagorda as Wilfred, the count’s squire; Susan Jones as Berthe, Giselle’s mother; Alexei Agoudine as the Prince of Courland; and Luciana Paris as Bathilde, the Prince’s daughter. The superb corps de ballet was frequently marvelous, if slightly under-rehearsed at some moments in the first act. 

The artists were rewarded with a very enthusiastic reception.

Musical Theater Review—“Cabaret” at Barrington Stage

Cabaret
Book by Joe Masteroff, from the play by John Van Druten and stories by Christopher Isherwood
Music by John Kander; lyrics by Fred Ebb
Directed by Alan Paul; choreographed by Katie Spelman
Performances through July 8, 2023
Boyd-Quinson Stage, 30 Union Street, Pittsfield, Massachusetts
barringtonstageco.org
 
Krysta Rodriguez, center, in Cabaret (photo: Daniel Rader)


The Barrington Stage production of Kander and Ebb’s Cabaret is, despite some provocative window dressing, a staging of this still disturbing, groundbreaking musical that’s close in spirit to the 1998 Sam Mendes restaging that took Broadway by storm. After I read the typically imperceptive and shrilly clever New York Times review, I was expecting an out-there interpretation (“OMG, a genderqueer Cabaret—run for your lives!”), but director Alan Paul has stayed pretty faithful to the book and songs, with the notable exception of “Tomorrow Belongs to Me,” which is sung by a trio of non-binary and trans performers as part of the renamed Kit Kat Ensemble.
 
Paul’s decision to do away with the Kit Kat Girls further underlines the notion that the immorality and decadence of Weimer-era Berlin will soon be comprehensively stifled quite brutally by the thuggish Nazis. But aside from that—and the amusing squirming of some audience members pre-show and post-intermission as the ensemble wanders among the seats to flirt or dance with the paying customers—there’s nothing here that screams, “Look! We’re making Cabaret relevant to our time!” Paul doesn’t have to make obvious the parallels to today’s wannabe fascists as they viciously fight a more progressive society—it’s already there in the show.
 
Paul and his able choreographer, Katie Spelman, use the small stage—which features a terrific small orchestra, led by music director Angela Steiner—to their advantage, as the song and dance interludes and dramatic scenes rub against each other effectively and, often, almost inevitably.
 
As the proudly amoral heroine, club chanteuse Sally Bowles, the always wonderful Krysta Rodriguez turns on her natural charm—along with a beguiling, if erratic, British accent—to complement her lithe movements and powerhouse voice. Her stirringly emotional rendition of the title tune is the very definition of a showstopper; maybe Rodriguez will finally get the Broadway starring role she deserves if this production makes it to New York.
 
Other cast members are accomplished, at times even inspired, although Dan Amboyer’s portrayal of Cliff Bradshaw—the naïve American writer who falls in love with Sally after coming to Berlin to start a novel—is more lackadaisical than it should be, even for such a passive character. As Cliff’s spinster landlady Fräulein Schneider, Candy Buckley has a lovely but sad presence; as her paramour, the elderly Herr Schulz, Richard Kline gives a noble performance as a German Jew who can’t comprehend what the Nazis have in store for him.
 
The Emcee has become a touchstone role, not only because of Joel Grey’s sinister Tony- and Oscar-winning portrayal but also because of Alan Cumming’s flamboyant, Tony-winning reinterpretation in Mendes’ revival. Nik Alexander mischievously combines both of them in a slyly uninhibited, subtly menacing performance. That Alexander occasionally swallows his lines doesn’t mitigate his idiosyncratic stage presence, which is the ominous center of this Cabaret

June '23 Digital Week III

In-Theater/Streaming Releases of the Week 
Revoir Paris 
(Music Box Films)
Alice Winocour’s latest psychological study of individuals under duress (following Augustine, Disorder and Mustang) alternates between being perceptive and merely cursory as it follows Mia, a Russian translator who survives a horrific mass shooting in a Parisian café and tries to deal with its disastrous emotional and physical aftermath.
 
 
As Mia, Virginie Efira won the best actress Cesar for her devastating performance, which goes a long way toward making Winocour’s hit-or-miss drama seem more penetrating than it is.
 
 
 
Barbie Nation—An Authorized Tour 
(Bernal Beach Films) 
In anticipation of this summer’s Barbie movie by the overrated Greta Gerwig that stars Margot Robbie (whose 2022 appearances were in the huge bombs Amsterdam and Babylon), Susan Stern’s 1998 documentary exploring the history and legacy of the famous doll returns.
 
 
It clocks in at less than an hour, yet Stern brings up many facets—sexism, misogyny, empowerment—and includes interesting takes from Ruth Handler and her husband, Elliot, who founded Mattel, and others who have collected, enjoyed or hated the doll over the decades. 
 
 
 
Loren and Rose 
(Wise Lars LLC)
Similar to a sit-down chatfest like My Dinner with Andre, Russell Brown’s three-act film follows Rose, a former star hoping to plot her comeback, and Loren, an up-and-coming director hoping to help her out.
 
 
In a series of conversations framed by a device out of Citizen Kane, the pair discusses the movie industry, her long career and other issues, none of which are given much depth but at least are colored by the presence of the still glamorous Jacqueline Bisset. Kelly Blatz comes off less well opposite Bisset in this engaging but slight 90 minutes.
 
 
 
Make Me Famous 
(Red Splat) 
The New York art scene of the 1980s is given a thorough run-through by director Brian Vincent in his documentary about artist Edward Brezinski, who ran in the same downtown circles as Basquiat and Keith Haring but who never achieved their public and critical renown, dying forgotten in Cannes, France, in 2007.
 
 
Vincent dissects Brezinski’s life and career through an array of chatty subjects, including art historians, gallery owners, photographers and fellow painters, along with much valuable archival footage that puts Brezinski’s work and legacy into perspective.
 
 
 
Umberto Eco—A Library of the World 
(Cinema Guild) 
Umberto Eco was a polymath, author, intellectual, and philosopher whose library—which contains thousands of volumes in several languages and on a myriad of subjects—may be his greatest and lasting posthumous legacy, according to director Davide Ferrario’s fascinating documentary.
 
 
Through archival interviews with Eco and discussions with family members, associates and close friends, Ferrario presents a complex portrait of a multifaceted individual whose rigorous intelligence, pointed humor and best-selling novels mark him as a giant of the 20th century.
 
 
 
4K/UHD Releases of the Week
Evil Dead Rise 
(Warner Bros) 
This exceptionally icky reboot of another horror franchise is base and unimaginative: a malevolent spirit causes people to mercilessly butcher others and then reincarnates to continue the butchering. If that sounds appealing—I know some will sign up for it immediately—then go for it.
 
 
Too bad that writer-director Lee Cronin only finds a few different ways to keep blood spurting and gore flowing (and does it flow, opening with a young woman being scalped and ending with a wood chipper vaporizing a multi-headed monster) and the 90 minutes seems mercilessly padded. On UHD, the color is vividly present; no extras, which seems a recent trend for new releases.
 
 
 
National Lampoon’s Vacation 
(Warner Bros)
This genial 1983 comedy is a very bumpy ride, with mainly cheap and obvious laughs and crude sexism: we see Beverly d’Angelo nude in the shower for no reason and Christie Brinkley’s available/unavailable supermodel entices Chevy Chase to skinny dip in a hotel pool. Harold Ramis’ slapdash directing and John Hughes’ sloppy script don’t help, while Chase sleepwalks through the laconic persona that serves him much better in Fletch.
 
 
At least it has Lindsey Buckingham’s hummable “Holiday Road” and small but fun parts for John Candy, Brian Doyle-Murray and Imogene Coca. The film looks sharp in 4K; lone extra is an audio commentary. 
 
 
 
Blu-ray Releases of the Week
Horowitz in Moscow 
(C Major)
When superstar pianist Vladimir Horowitz, at age 82, returned to his native Russia for the first time in six decades in 1986, cameras followed him while meeting with people he hadn’t seen in years and performing an emotional recital in Moscow.
 
 
This absorbing documentary intercuts moments of intimacy between the pianist and others with his penetrating performances of pieces by Chopin, Rachmaninoff, Scriabin, Schubert and Schumann. The film looks fine if a little ragged on Blu, with decent audio. 
 
 
 
Like Water for Chocolate 
(Opus Arte)
This new ballet, scored by Joby Talbot and choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon (and based on the beloved novel by Laura Esquivel, which spawned the hit 1992 movie adaptation) was filmed at last year’s world premiere staging in London’s Royal Opera House.
 
 
The Royal Ballet’s principal dancers—especially the incandescent Francesca Hayward as the heroine Tita—are unimpeachable, as is Wheeldon’s expressive choreography. Talbot’s conventional music is led by the terrific conductor Alondra de la Perra, who teams with the orchestra to give it more warmth. The hi-def video and audio are first-rate; extras are interviews with the principals.
 
 
 
DVD Release of the Week
Matter Out of Place 
(Icarus Films) 
In his latest provocative visual essay, Austrian director Nikolaus Geyrhalter chronicles how our planet has pretty much become a gigantic garbage dump, and travels to various places—Switzerland, Albania, Nepal, Maldives, Austria, Greece and Nevada’s “Burning Man”—to record how our massive amounts of trash have reached all corners of the earth, even far-flung areas, and the sheer struggle it is to try and get it under control.
 
Exceptionally beautiful, as all of Geyrhalter’s films are, it’s also extremely unsettling to watch as our only home is overtaken by refuse—even under the sea.

MET Orchestra Plays Carnegie Hall

Soprano Angel Blue and mezzo-soprano Deborah Nansteel performing with the Met Orchestra at Carnegie Hall on June 22, 2023. Photo: Evan Zimmerman / Met Opera

At Carnegie Hall on the night of Thursday, June 15th, I had the enormous pleasure of attending a magnificent concert presented by the extraordinary MET Orchestra—along with the fabulous MET Chorus, led by Donald Palumbo—under the brilliant direction of Yannick Nézet-Séguin.

The conductor spoke briefly before the music began to dedicate the performance to the ensembles’ members or staff that lost their lives as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic. The event opened superbly with an unforgettable account of the beautiful and haunting Oraison—heardhere in its New York premiere—by the contemporary Cuban-Canadian composer, Luis Ernesto Peña Laguna. The program note by Claudio Ricignuolo reports:

In 2021, the Orchestre Métropolitain de Montréal commissioned Peña to write a choral work in tribute to the victims of COVID-19 and intended to be programmed with BrahmsEin deutsches Requiem. In composing Oraison, Peña was inspired by the poem “Danse humaine,” written for the occasion by French author Jean-A. Massard (b. 2000). As the composer explains:


There’s a word that’s very present in my composition, and that word is gestes (“gestures”). It’s a word that resonates with me when I think about the pandemic and how Canada and specifically Quebec managed it. The composition ends just like it begins … a way of representing each wave, how the pandemic is cyclic and still not over. The use of several languages (Latin, French, English, and Spanish) speaks to the fact that COVID has affected the entire planet.

The pinnacle of the evening, however, was achieved with a stunning realization of the awesome German Requiem of Johannes Brahms—which was hilariously misdescribed by the arch-Wagnerite music critic and playwright George Bernard Shaw who said it “could only have come from the establishment of a first-class undertaker”—featuring two outstanding soloists: soprano Lisette Oropesa, a luminary of the Metropolitan Opera—she was replacing Nadine Sierra who had to withdraw due to illness—and baritone Quinn Kelsey. The artists were rewarded with a tremendous reception.

Nézet-Séguin and the ensemble returned to this venue exactly one week later for another terrific concert which began thrillingly with an energetic performance of Leonard Bernstein’s ingenious Symphonic Dances from West Side Story, which were selected and orchestrated by Sid Ramin and Irwin Kostal. Also impressive was the world premiere of contemporary composer Matthew Aucoin’s powerfulHeath(King LearSketches), which uncannily recalled the mainstream of twentieth-century music. Here I reproduce in toto his eloquent program note on the work:

The heath, in Shakespeare’s King Lear, is the bare, windswept place, devoid of civilization and human comforts, where Lear, the Fool, and others end up after Lear’s eldest two daughters—to whom he has unwisely bequeathed his kingdom—have systematically stripped him of the last shreds of his authority. It is on the heath that Lear loses touch with reality, or at least with the world of unchecked privilege that he has inhabited for his whole life, and enters a state somewhere between madness and prophecy, a kind of lucid nightmare.

But the heath is more than a mere geological site; it is the psychological bedrock of the entire play.King Lear expresses a bottomlessly bleak vision of human nature, one in which laws, customs, and hierarchies—what we call “norms” in the contemporary world—are a flimsy safeguard against devouring animal appetites. When Lear lets his guard down for an instant and makes a major decision for sentimental reasons rather than according to the dictates of realpolitik, the wolves that surround him instantly show their fangs.

So, even though my orchestral piece does not directly enact the play’s heath scenes, Heath felt like the only possible title. This play’s inner landscape is a rocky, barren place, one in which every human luxury is ultimately burned away to reveal the hard stone underneath: “the thing itself,” as Lear puts it.

Heath is divided into four sections, played continuously with no break. The first and longest, “The Divided Kingdom,” embodies the atmosphere of the play’s first scenes: the uneasy sense of rituals failing to serve their purpose, of political life unraveling into chaos. The second section, “The Fool,” is full of darting, quicksilver music inspired by the Fool’s mockery of Lear. The brief third section, “I have no way ...”, is inspired by the blinded Gloucester’s slow, sad progress across the landscape. And the final movement, “With a Dead March,” embodies the accumulated tragedies of the play’s final scenes.

The first half of the event closed exhilaratingly with a fully compelling version of Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s marvelous Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture. Interestingly, the composer later envisioned writing an opera adapted from the William Shakespeare play about which he said to his brother, Modest:

This shall be my definitive work. It’s odd how until now I hadn’t seen how I was truly destined to set this drama to music. Nothing could be better suited to my musical character. No kings, no marches, and none of the encumbrances of grand opera—just love, love, love.

After an intermission, the evening concluded memorably with a wonderful performance of Act IV of Giuseppe Verdi’s penultimate opera, Otello. An excellent slate of singers was led by the enchanting soprano Angel Blue—another luminary of the Metropolitan Opera—as Desdemona along with tenor Russell Thomas in the title role; the secondary cast included mezzo-soprano Deborah Nansteel as Emilia, tenor Errin Duane Brooks as Cassio, baritone Michael Chioldi as Iago, and the bassi Richard Bernstein and Adam Lau as Lodovico and Montano respectively. Especially enthusiastic applause for the artists elicited a splendid encore: Florence Price’s Adoration featuring the concertmaster, David Chan, as soloist.

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