Fitting tribute
Giannandrea Poesio
Ashton 100 Celebrations La Fille Mal Gardée The Royal Ballet No celebration of Ashton’s choreographic legacy would be complete without La Fille Mal Gardée. Based on a witty revisitation of one of the most ancient titles of the classical repertoire the original was created in 1789 — Ashton’s 1960 work is, arguably, his most beloved and best-known creation worldwide. Few ballets can be regarded as so perfect a compendium of Ashton’s approach to dance and performance-making as this one. Typical Ashtonian motifs inform the action from beginning to end; the result is a kaleidoscopic series of ingenious ideas that mesmerise the audience, as confirmed by audible expressions throughout the two performances I saw.
This absolute winner as far as choreographic comedy is concerned should not be regarded merely as a pretty, light-hearted piece, though. Fille might contain references to British pantomime as well as tongue-in-cheek quotations from the golden era of music hall and British country dancing, but it is no operetta or pastiche. The masterly way its core ingredients are interwoven is more reminiscent of the texture of one of Mozart’s operas. The combi nation of well-devised narrative, meaningful steps, aptly inserted mime recitatives, dazzling solos, duets and concertato numbers has a great deal in common with that found in masterworks such as Così Fan Tutte and Le Nozze di Figaro. Not to mention the seamless outpouring of dramatic and choreographic inventions, which have a distinctively Mozartian feel. The operatic parallel might be audacious, but it is not entirely casual. After all, Ashton opted for the revisited, early 19th-century score of the famous ballet, a score credited to Ferdinand Hérold, but made, in line with the tradition of the time, with tunes lifted from popular contemporary operas. And these operatic undertones contribute greatly to the overall theatricality of the work, given Ashton’s unique response to the music, both in narrative and choreographic terms.
As such, the work confronts its interpreters with a tough challenge, for it demands state-of-the-art acting on top of state-of-the-art dancing. Fille is not a ballet that can be performed without a deep understanding of the dramatic nuances so cleverly embedded in the choreographic layout. Look, for instance, at the central role of Lise, the rebellious youngster of the title. It is commonly mistaken as a ‘soubrette’ part, but it requires far more than a witty smile and a few coquettish glances at the audience. Similarly, there is more to her beloved Colas than just a stage version of one of those idealised peasant boys portrayed by the likes of Fragonard. Both characters represent an affectionate and somewhat nostalgic take, arguably Ashton’s own, on youth’s rebellious stubbornness, thus providing myriad opportunities for subtle interpretations. The same could be said for Lise’s mother, Widow Simone, or Lise’s betrothed, dimwit Alain. The former is not, and should not be, just a balletic transposition of the British pantomime Dame, as is often superficially claimed, while there is more to Alain than choreographic slapstick tricks.
Luckily, the Royal Ballet can count on first-rate artists who know how to cope with such demands. It was sheer joy to see Marianela Nuñez as Lise, for she is an ideal interpreter of that part. Not only does Nuñez respond with ease and gusto to the demands of the role, displaying her exceptional technical talent and refined, deep understanding of style. She also brings the character fully to life by working with extreme intelligence on the interpretative nuances of the part, without ever moving away from Ashton’s set parameters. If you want to have an idea of what Lise ought to be, do not miss her remaining performances.
Next to her William Tuckett was an equally stunning Widow Simone, a character that in his hands acquired again its longlost human traits. Of the other cast I saw, I could not help admiring Johan Kobborg as Colas, on account of his irresistible ‘country bumpkin’ reading of the role, and Giacomo Ciriaci as Alain, for the way he managed to highlight the drama of the role amid all the irresistible comic bits. All in all, this run of Fille is a more than fitting tribute to the genius of great dance-making.
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