pair

Beatrice Parma as Lise and Enrique Bejarano Vidal as Colas. Pictures: Riku Ito

La fille mal gardée

Birmingham Royal Ballet

Birmingham Hippodrome

*****

Laughs are not something you normally associate with ballet but La fille mal gardée is an out and out romcom and even gives us the nearest ballet ever gets to a pantomime dame, in short it’s fun with a light hearted romance, dancing chickens, a real pony, Oscar, a Mary Poppin’s style umbrella flight . . . and a clog dance.

La fille, literal translation, The poorly kept girl, which, as titles go, would hardly be a crowd puller, is one of the earliest ballets, dating back to 1789, with no end of adaptations since then with this 1960 version from Sir Frederick Ashton perhaps now the best known.

The story is simple, Lise, danced by Beatrice Parma, is the daughter of Widow Simone, a wealthy farmer danced by Rory Mackay. who is becoming a skilled character principal.

Now Simone is set on hooking up Lise with the son of Thomas, the local, big noise, well to do vineyard owner, danced by Jonathan Payn.

The son, Alain, danced, after a fashion, if we are being kind, by Gus Payne, is one of life’s intellectually challenged unfortunates, with not so much an IQ as a LowQ.

This proposed marriage of village fortunes has one snag in that Lise is having none of it and is in love with Colas, a young farmer, danced by Enrique Bejarano Vidal, promoted to soloist this year.

The first act is a scene setter, opening with a dance by the cockerel (August Generalli) and four chickens (Olivia Chang Clarke, Frieda Kaden, Maïlène Katoch and Sophie Walters) to give that air of bucolic bliss, and a few early laughs.

trio     

Rory Mackay as Widow Simone, Jonathan Payn as Thomas, and Gus Payne as Alain

We learn Simone is protective of her daughter and she/he dances with all the finesse of a rather enthusiastic bull in a rather bijou china shop, a wonderful performance by Mackay, who really goes to town with his clog dance in Act II. It is real panto dame stuff, funny, over the top, and danced, should we say, somewhat agriculturally, with commendable skill.

It is here we first encounter Alain and a magical performance by Gus Payne. Dancing badly is easy, many of us have managed it since birth, it’s dancing badly well where the real skill comes in. Alain is a bit of a Greig’s piano concerto sort of dancer, all the right steps but not necessarily in the right order or indeed, in his case, the right way, right time or right technique, and Payne manages to create a character full of simple charm, simple doing the heavy lifting here, whose only friend is a red umbrella and who dances as if his brain and legs have stopped speaking to each other. It takes great skill as both actor and dancer to pull it off and Payne delivered in spades.

Our lovers, Lise and Colas, appear and have a lovely pas de deux involving a ribbon and a complex routine leading to a super cat’s cradle creation which garnered its own round of applause.

Beatrice Parma, who was promoted to Principal this year, danced the role with a sense of fun, a touch of innocence and, from a ballet viewpoint, quick, delicate, precise and dainty feet. She is a delight to watch. Enrique Bejarano Vidal’s Colas played the part of the young, handsome farmer, flirting with Lise well, but Act I was to introduce the characters, and, it needed a spark to really bring it to life.

That was to happen in Act II with another complex ribbon pas de deux with eight female dancers and a choreography that must have taken hours of rehearsal to perfect without anyone being garrotted. Add to that a maypole dance, the celebrated clog dance - including clogs en pointe! - and a storm which sees Alain and his brolly vanish into the flies.

alain

Gus Payne as Alain

The final act sees a marriage contract signed, so will Lise be forced to marry Alain and start a line of half wits or will love win out . . . no prizes for guessing at the happy ending, it is a romcom after all, and at least Alain has his red brolly to keep him . . . well, dry.

La Fille does not have the moving beauty or tragedy of, say, a Swan Lake or a Romeo and Juliet, the classical ballets, but it has comedy and fun and a wide range of dance from pas de deux and a funny pas de trois with our two love birds and Alain and we even get what is almost a Morris dance as the farm workers bring in the harvest.

The original music of French choreographer Jean Dauberval's version was based on around 55 popular French tunes, a sort of pre-jukebox musical affair. Ashton’s version has adapted the score of Ferdinand Hérold which was created for a 1828 Paris production. That in turn was rewritten and adapted by the Royal Opera House composer and conductor John Lanchbery who, incidentally, was taken to see a performance of Lancashire clog dancers to help create that magic moment of Ashton’s remarkable choreography.

As always the Royal Ballet Sinfonia under conductor Wolfgang Heinz were the ballet’s other, unseen, stars on a set designed by the celebrated cartoonist and stage designer Osbert Lancaster.

The result is a different form of ballet, light hearted, fun and a delightful evening’s entertainment. To 28-09-24.

Roger Clarke

25-09-24

BRB  

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