Pacific Northwest Ballet in Giselle. LINDSAY THOMAS
“ People don’t realize how classical ballet is important and part of our cultural heritage...We need to keep it alive, and fight to transfer it to the younger generation.” -Jerome Kaplan
It’s no secret that most people don’t understand ballet. I’m always surprised by the amount of people who seem nearly repulsed by the word “ballet”, as though it's a stale, dying art that clings desperately to all it once had. Although the rise of "ballet core" may make it seem like there’s a new love for ballet flooding in, in my eyes it often trivializes and perpetuates the idea that ballet is what little girls imagine it to be: pink bows and fluffy tulle. While ballet core thrives, the actual art that inspires it is often seen as an outdated form that needs to be broken in order to fit the 21st century, and is chronically under-appreciated for what it brings to the world. And yet, there are an endless amount of ballet dancers and balletomanes who know the opposite to be true.
Last month, as Swan Lake took to the stage at Pacific Northwest Ballet, over 26,000 people filled the audience during the 10 show run, and applauded this nearly 150 year old ballet as if it were brand new. Because at that moment it was. It was alive, imbued with the artists who put everything they had into their portrayals of these iconic characters, and, filled with life, it touched every last soul in that sold out theater. When the curtain fell, the full house leapt to their feet, spurred on by the beauty that had just unfolded before them. Such roaring applause filling McCaw Hall reminded me of the universal power of dance to bring people together in an appreciation and love of movement, music, and storytelling.
Our world is full of words. From daybreak to night fall, we are met and overflooded with words. But, there is one place where words fall still, where you don’t need to speak the language in order to feel every inch of the story at your core. In that way, the theater is a refuge from the overwhelming nature of the outside world, a sheltering. Last summer I saw a production of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet for the first time. I had seen Jean-Christophe Maillot’s Romeo et Juliette many times, and had read the script for the play, but had never actually sat through a performance of this famous tale. I was shocked by how differently it touched me in comparison to the ballet. It was all a flood of words, most of which found no place to land anywhere near my heart, but rather lingered in my brain with nowhere to go. Comparing that to the ballet, and to all ballets, one could say that they enter through the heart, rather than the head. There are no words to process or digest, and so, the beauty before you is able to penetrate into your heart without having to go through the maze of word-processing.
Perhaps this is even more true in plotless ballets. Take for example Edwaard Liang’s The Veil Between Worlds, (a personal favorite of mine that is thankfully making its return to the PNB stage to kick off the 24/25 season!). This ballet expresses an array of emotions that could not possibly exist in a theater form full of words. That’s not to say that theater has no value in storytelling, because of course it does. There are many things that are too complicated to tell through dance, but the essence of any emotion can reach an audience through movement, and be even more powerful than pages and pages of dialogue ever could. Ballets like The Veil Between Worlds have the ability to make you feel things that you can't even put into words, you just know that you have been greatly moved by some ethereal force.
The way that music affects us has been researched, and there’s no denying that music is one of the reasons why we are so moved by dance, but what is it specifically about storytelling through movement that has the potential to reach our heart?
Last season, when Giselle filled McCaw Hall after a nine year hiatus, I was overwhelmed by the love and care that went into bringing this nearly 200 year old ballet to the audiences of 2023. There is something so sacred, and valuable in preserving a performing art and displaying it as it was meant to be seen. The original beauty is left intact and unharmed, and the audience is left breathless, as if they just stepped into the 1840s for a few precious hours. From the historically-informed choreography and mime, to the haunting beauty of the set, light, and costume designs that reflect the themes of the Romantic era, not one detail was left to rot in the past. Giselle will reach its 200th anniversary in 2041, and yet there it was, bursting with life just as much as on its premiere date. There is such pride in this preservation, we refuse to let it die.
I believe one of the greatest strengths of the ballet world today is the fact that the heritage of ballet and the forward-driving innovation of new works are able to coexist. Companies perform classical works like Giselle, Swan Lake, and The Sleeping Beauty, and weeks later are on stage in gorgeous new works by the choreography stars of the present day like Crystal Pite, Justin Peck, Edwaard Liang, or Alexei Ratmansky. This rich tapestry paints a picture of an art form that not only honors its past, but simultaneously strives for a multitude of diverse voices, and shows audiences how expansive ballet can be. It is very much so alive. It is not just one thing. It’s not pretty pink bows and pointelle knits, it’s hard work, endless dedication, frustration, joy, pain, beauty, and passion. It’s art, and it can’t be tied down to one image or voice.
During the pandemic, I think many people realized what they had been taking for granted. With the opportunity to see live performances suddenly out of reach, it seemed all the more precious and necessary to return to the theater. I remember watching the digital screening of the Nutcracker in 2020 and thinking that if we ever got back to seeing art in person, we could never forget what it was like to live without it. We had to learn something from those frightful years, and if it’s one thing, I hope that it’s a deeper appreciation for the arts, and the artists who give everything to their craft. Thankfully, four years later, I don’t think that we have forgotten.
As PNB’s Elle Macy said so beautifully in a 2020 behind-the-scenes video (Back to Work) : “The arts take you away from the troubles of life… people crave art”. We need art. We need these experiences in order to refill our hungry souls and remind us of the beauty in the world. Each time I return to the theater I am greatly moved by the impact of having a place where the rest of the world can melt away. To be able to forget the stress outside the doors of McCaw Hall and exist in a world full of awe for a few hours. Thank goodness for ballet, and thank goodness for the artists who work so diligently to create a space for such wonder. I am forever grateful for you.
Noelani Pantastico, Lucien Postlewaite, and Elizabeth Murphy in Romeo et Juliette. ANGELA STERLING
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