Sylvia is back in rep at the Royal Ballet. In an essay on the reconstruction in the ballet's program, Clifford Bishop writes
QUOTE
For [reconstructor Christopher] Newton, Sylvia was a great opportunity to restamp the Ashton style on the Company -- the emphasis on the plasticity of the upper body, the neatness of the footwork, the confidence in simple movements executed with elegance and conviction. 'The way modern dancers work', he says, 'there is a danger that the style will be lost
Act I was like a treatise in Ashton style. Watching it, I was reminded of how Balanchine put "teaching" ballets like
Symphonia Concertante on stage, and how individual soloist parts were tailored to showcase a dancer's strengths and challenge his or her technique. While many of the women had neat footwork and danced with conviction -- notable feet were Cindy Jordain's (as Terpsichore)-- it will take a lot of performances of
Sylvia before the upper bodies have caught up. The men's villagers' dance could have been an entire company class in itself; the demands of the steps were frighteningly difficult, even if the men, like the slaves in Act II, looked a bit schoolboyishly neutered.
I liked Act II a lot; the part of Orion looked like it was tailor made for Gediminas Taranda, which, by definition, puts it high in my book
Sylvia plays more of a seductress in Ashton's version than in Mark Morris', and I can imagine the men in the audiences of 1952 needing to be revived after Fonteyn vamped in that costume in that choreography. I loved the extended mime sequence in the beginning, in which Sylvia proudly rejects all of the riches Orion tries to bestow on her.
Act III lost me until Sylvia's solo, and then again until the grand pas de deux. The main reason was that there was little poignancy to the reunion of Sylvia and Aminta; it lacked a certain bittersweet recognition that they might never have been blessed by the gods to find each other again. Here was another resemblance to
Sleeping Beauty: apart from a perfunctory reconciliation, the wedding might just as well have been preordained and arranged between Acts II and III.
Perhaps I was being dense, but when the soloist couples entered, I thought the I was seeing the Ashtonian equivalent of Puss 'n Boots and the White Cat, Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf, and a few more Sleeping Beauty-like divertissements. These people were not costumed like gods and goddesses. It wasn't until the finale, when I wondered, "Where are the goats?" that I realized Puss and the Cat
were the goats

According to the article, "Reconstructing Sylvia," "in going back to the authentic score [Newton] had to drop two dances (an interlude for Apollo and the nine muses and a
pas de cinq for Jason, Ceres, Pluto, Persephone and Eros), and 'slightly stretched out the male solo.'" It seemed rather odd that the three god/goddess couples had little mini-breakouts during the ensemble dancing, but not a number of their own, and the goats pas de deux alone seemed unbalanced.
Zenaida Yanowsky danced Sylvia, and she was as opposite to Fonteyn as could be. She's an amazon, with long, muscled legs, in the Karin von Aroldingen mold. (In San Francisco, she would have been cast as Diana.) There was no doubt for the most part of the ballet who was in charge. Since Eros isn't really a pixie, I think it would have taken a Marcelo Gomes to have the presence to make Eros' power over her believable. Joshua Tuifus didn't have it, and it was almost as if he had opened her unconscious and allowed her to realize that it was really her idea to fall for Aminta.
That said, it was that much more surprising that Yanowsky's strongest dramatic moments -- both acting and dancing -- came in the three most unlikely places: immediately after she falls for Aminta, in the seduction solo in Act II, and in the Act III solo, the latter until the final phrases, which reminded me of one of the
Beauty Fairy solos, and during which she was done in by her long legs. (It almost looked like she was being funny, but it wasn't possible for her to look spritely.) Yanowsky's arms were beautiful; in Act I especially, they were a source of her power. It was wonderful to see a dancer with the patience to be in the moment and not push the pace or phrasing.
If I had a beef with David Makhateli's performance, it was that in his first solo, he didn't have this patience. He seemed to want to
get somewhere and it looked rushed. The transparency of the choreography, where every degree of every movement requires equal commitment and precision, was unforgiving. He's got a beautiful body for a dancer, though, with long, long legs to match Yanowsky's, and I'd love to see him in the Petipa classics.
Gary Avis danced Orion. He phrasing was a little soft, and he lacked a little of the panther-like menace that makes Orion a little sexy, not just the guy who is going to get his because of theatrical convention. Poor Gillian Revie as Diana -- she had to out-Diana Diana! She was lovely, though, in the recognition scene, where Eros reminds her of her love for a shepherd. (Ashton's Diana takes this change of affairs much more in stride than Morris' Diana.)
I would see this again in a heartbeat, however,
Manon has entered the building, and
Sylvia doesn't return until 1 December.