New York City Ballet is known for new works, for sleek innovation, and sophisticated dancing without any distraction, yet when Balanchine choreographed Coppélia, he asked something very different of his dancers. He asked them to step into a full-length story, to let a lighthearted tale lift from the stage with all of his genius still on display despite the extra frill. Fifty years ago, George Balanchine’s Coppélia made its premiere at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center, and in honor of this fiftieth anniversary, New York City Ballet brought Coppélia back to thrilled audiences this fall. Bright, and uplifting, Coppélia is one of the few comedies in the classical ballet repertory, and what it gifts its audience is two hours of undeniable glee, and some particularly impressive beauty.
When the curtain rises to reveal Coppélia’s sunny set, sighs of awe go flittering through the theater each and every time. It’s beautiful to see that even on the other side of the country, with a completely different design, this ballet still elicits that response. New York City Ballet’s set designs by Rouben Ter-Arutunian evoke a sense of stepping right into a vintage children’s book. It’s full of copper tones, and warm blues, picturesque steeples and rolling hills that set the stage for a beautiful story to unfold.
Tiler Peck is known for her quick footwork, but as Swanilda, she shows so much more than that. She has a certain sensibility for turning pantomime into something beautiful. She manages to weave it into the choreography so seamlessly and relishes each moment of stretching out every breath. Her crisp, detailed footwork is equally matched and balanced by the care given to her port de bra and the upright grace which makes it all look far too easy. Her musicality is, of course, a wonder to behold. Each moment becomes not just choreography, but rather, the choices she makes show a dancer who knows exactly how she wants to interpret any given step. She knows her wiggle room within the bones of each beat of the music, and is beautifully expressive and bold in these choices.
Roman Mejia also showed a remarkable strength in pantomime, which surprised me considering that NYCB is certainly not known for pantomime-rich ballets. His declarative and passionate pantomime not only captured Franz’ spirit, but let his “voice” reach out far into the audience, with palpable energy surging through it. He seemed to be very close to becoming a bird in this role, the way he so effortlessly flew across the stage as if there could never be enough space for him to consume, nor too high a height to fly. He was lifted by the wind, never tiring of Franz’ demanding antics.
The villager folk dance is a roaring showcase of corp de ballet talent. They attacked it with such determination and attention to detail. Near the end, their whirling turned to a blur of white sleeves and coral skirts, moving impossibly fast in perfect sync. Hearing the click of heels amidst it all was just the cherry on top.
This village scene, and the general mood of act one is quite similar to a ballet which also came out of the Paris Opera Ballet twenty nine years before the original 1870 Coppélia. Both Giselle and Coppelia feature a young, sprity protagonist involved in a love triangle. In Coppélia it happens to involve a doll mistaken for a real person, while in Giselle, the issue is royalty disguised as a peasant. In both ballets, true love is tested with a superstitious game. In Giselle, Albrecht and Giselle play “he loves me, he loves me not” with the petals of a daisy, while in Coppélia, Swanilda listens to see if the wheat will rattle to tell her that Franz truly loves her. In Giselle, Albrecht fixes Giselle’s disappointment by secretly plucking off an extra petal, but in Coppélia, Franz seems unbothered by such cares and commences a high flying solo.
Act Two’s curtain rise prompts a similar response to children seeing their presents beneath the tree on Christmas morning. It is such a dark, eerie, intriguing scene, made all the more enchanting by Delibes' score which draws you in with each enticing note. The musical comedy shows Balanchine’s brilliance in fully using music to shape a piece of work. Once you see the ballet, you will hear the comedy in the music, and every other version seems to be lacking this perfect marriage between music and action.
After seeing NYCB’s Coppélia, which I can only assume is the closest thing we have to the true original production in terms of steps and timing, I am intrigued by the fact that many choreographic details differ from Balanchine’s Coppélia at Pacific Northwest Ballet. To name a few things I noticed: the choreography of the doll seated on the front left of the stage, and the steps that Franz takes after Dr. Coppelius grabs his ear in Act Two (at PNB, Franz leaps about in pain, whereas at NYCB his feet stay on the ground). One overarching difference between the two productions is the tempo played by the orchestra. This is no surprise, considering that New York City Ballet dancers are known for their speed, but there were some moments that felt like a missed opportunity due to this. For example, the moments leading up to Dr. Coppelius grabbing Franz’s ear hold such suspense and opportunity for humor, that rushing this takes away from those long, stretched out moments of building laughter. Seeing this production let me see how a work can change and gain new colors as it leaves its home of birth, but also made me wonder how similar the choreography must remain in order to call it “Balanchine’s Coppelia”.
The two character dances of Act Two are always a highlight for me, because they show the range of expertise that a dancer must possess in order to bring Swanilda to life. Peck found newfound exuberance in these variations, stepping into each style of dance with vibrant gusto and unbelievable fire under her feet.
Act Three is light on plot, but heavy on beauty. Twenty four students from the School of American Ballet make up a petite corps de ballet, whose perfectly placed hands, and superb technique showed the invaluable strength of SAB to prepare students for this level of dancing. Floating among them, and rising like a desirable destiny for these young students was Baily Jones, dreamlike and yet precise with each step. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone make passé look so beautiful; both the journey of the foot up the leg, and the final placement were immaculate and purposefully executed. In the role of spinner, Alston Macgill was an exuberant burst of sure-footed vigor. It was a delight to see her weightless buoyancy and crisp hops on pointe in this demanding role.
In the Act Three pas de deux, Tiler Peck briefly left her human form to become a spinning top, or a tornado, a blur of white practically turning dust in her wake. Her ability to warp time with the speed of her turns is remarkable through a screen, but seeing it live left me speechless. With such grace and exactness, she pricks the ground, moving faster than seems humanly possible. Mejia appeared to only gain more power at the end of this physically demanding ballet, lifting into the air as if pulled by some unseen force. Both Peck and Mejia were an astounding sight, flying through the rigor of this pas de deux with an abundance ease and joy.
This ballet holds such simple joy. The music simply beams, like a bright ray of sunshine. It’s so difficult to comprehend that this ballet, at least the core of its character, is over 150 years old. The way that it approaches humor, and the cheeky way in which Franz and Swanilda interact, makes it feel like a much more modern tale. Perhaps it is a timeless tale, only time shall tell, but for now, the reaction of the audience certainly proves that to be the case.
Billy Rose Theatre Division, The New York Public Library. "New York City Ballet rehearsal of "Coppelia" with George Balanchine, choreography by George Balanchine and Alexandra Danilova after Marius Petipa (Saratoga)" The New York Public Library Digital Collections. 1974. https://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/eb962340-34fc-0135-5082-29a217ee35fb
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