20 APRIL 1996, Page 45

Identity crisis

Giannandrea Poesio looks into the background of the soon to be revived ballet, Anastasia The story of Anna Anderson, the woman who claimed to be the daughter of the last Tsar and the only survivor of the 1917 massacre at Yekaterinburg, is proba- bly one of the most intriguing, though con- troversial, of our century. Yet, beyond the aura of mystery and the pseudo-romantic implications cleverly used by novelists, playwrights and film-makers lies the drama of a human being desperately seeking her own identity within an alienating society.

It was this particular aspect that drew the attention of Kenneth MacMillan, then director of the Berlin Opera Ballet, at a time when he was experiencing the psycho- logical constraints of a foreign, somehow hostile, cultural environment. Conceived as a one-act ballet, Anastasia received its pre- mière in the German capital in 1967. The work presented a further development of those choreographic and dramatic formu- lae to be found in MacMillan's previous works such as The Burrow, after Kafka, and The Invitation. Aptly regarded as an expres- sionist ballet, the 1967 creation focused on the contrasting feelings and emotions of the heroine who, being secluded in a Ger- man clinic, evokes both daunting ghosts and joyful images of her past — whether imaginary or real we do not know — trying to persuade herself and the rest of the world of her beliefs.

Four years after its premiere, the ballet was staged in London as a major vehicle for the Royal Ballet. For the occasion MacMillan added two more acts, thus pro- viding some impressionistic flashbacks of Anastasia's life before the Russian Revolu- tion. The new three-act work — the third one being the original creation — received mixed reviews. The adverse reactions of some eminent critics were partly prompted by the fact that, as is often the case with MacMillan's choreography, the ballet vocabulary had been used for a psychologi- cal introspection of the characters and not for mere, straightforward storytelling. The juxtaposition of the first two 'impressionist' acts, set to Tchaikovsky's First and Third symphonies, to the third expressionist act, that retained Martinu's score, was not entirely understood, despite being a power- ful dramatic invention that dispels any risk of melodramatic solutions.

The ballet, however, remained in the repertoire of the Royal Ballet until 1978 before sinking into oblivion. Anthony Dow- ell's decision to revive the three-act work is, therefore, an important step in the his- tory of the Royal Ballet.

Posthumous restagings raise a myriad of complicated issues. On the one hand the original features must be preserved in order not to alter the stylistic quality of the work, while on the other the ballet must be kept theatrically alive — that is, accessible and acceptable — by accommodating the original text to the ever changing cultural and artistic trends. According to Deborah MacMillan, the choreographer's widow, and Monica Mason, assistant to the artistic director of the Royal Ballet, both currently involved in the revival of Anastasia, a few weeks before his untimely death MacMil- lan had the intention of reviving the work and revising some of its original compo- nents; fortunately he discussed the amend- ments he had in mind with friends and collaborators.

`None of these changes is a radical one, though,' says Deborah MacMillan. `Although Barry Kay's original sets were utterly splendid, they presented major diffi- culties in terms of quick scene changes and did not suit the modern stage technology. This is why I personally asked Bob Crowley — who designed Carousel, MacMillan's last work — to redesign the ballet, considering Kenneth's admiration for him. The first act location has been totally reinvented and I trust that many will share my enthusiasm about Crowley's excellent ideas. As far as the score is concerned, we are discussing with Barry Wordsworth — one of MacMil- Ian's collaborators — the possibility of making some minor cuts here and there, following Kenneth's intentions, although some might think that to edit Tchaikovsky's symphonic works is sheer blasphemy.'

The problem many reconstructions have in common is the accurate rendering of the original choreographic style, considering also that ballets are unusually constructed around the artistic and interpretative skills of specific dancers. Still, as Monica Mason confirms, the Royal Ballet dancers are well accustomed to MacMillan's choreographic style, for they literally grow up with it, and they also benefit from the presence of the choreologist Monica Parker, who worked extensively with the choreographer and who notated the 1971 production. I would say that from that point of view the restag- ing of Anastasia does not present any prob- lem.

The difficulty is to make the new inter- preters fully aware of the complex dramatic characterisation that MacMillan conferred on each role, something they have then to filter through their own interpretative response. Lynn Seymour, for whom the ballet was created and who contributed greatly to the shaping of the original work, is coaching the three dancers who will appear in the first run of performances, Viviana Durante, Sarah Wildor and Leanne Benjamin. The way she manages to impart her understanding of the role to the dancers and the way she makes them rework those suggestions is simply phe- nomenal.

Dramatic complexity is, in fact, a distinc- tive trait of MacMillan's works because of his very cultured background. Anastasia like Manon, Mayerling and Isadora, to name but a few of his full-length dramatic ballets — stands out for the wealth of more or less direct references to social, artistic and political issues. The structure of the danc- ing, the particular use of the movement vocabulary and of the language of gesture — that is never conventional nor literal reveal a careful planning of the work: noth- ing is predictable or merely ornamental.

Elements such as the particular choice of music (Tchaikovsky's symphonies to convey the grandeur of the tsarist court and to evoke an aura of languorous exoticism), specific choreographic images (Anna Anderson's silent scream in the last act, typically expressionistic) and even small, apparently insignificant gestures (her 'row- ing' movement in the last act to recall care- free summer afternoons in the Russian countryside) are meticulously chosen to facilitate the artistic dialogue between the interpreters and the public; to establish, in other words, an immediate rapport between the two, so that the spectators can fully participate in the drama on the stage.

In less than two weeks, we will be able to see Anastasia again and to appreciate in full a work that was probably too modern more than 20 years ago.