Being a balletomane (or balletomaniac), and having been a ballerina in my youth (incredible as this might seem), I have seen ballet presentations in New York and London. I even watched the American choreographer Jerome Robbins rehearsing the Royal Ballet in Covent Garden for his “Dances at a Gathering.”
I dare say Ballet Manila’s Giselle at Aliw Theater nearly matched in polish and professionalism those ballet productions abroad. In the last few years, I have been regularly invited to Ballet Manila programs, and to my mind, Giselle is the best thus far, not only for having maintained the highest standards of classical dance in the company’s typical fashion, but also for having conveyed more drama and passion, and made the dancers’ skill even more patent.
The set designs by Katsch Catoy were splendid: the towering trees verdant with fluffy yellow-orange leaves appropriately served as background for flirting and romancing in the first act; the eerie graveyard scene, the moon deepening rather than lifting its gloom, reflected the tragic ending of the second act. Michael Angelo Albay’s costumes were in artistically harmonious colors for the village maidens; sumptuous and elegant for the royal hunting party.
The quintessential romantic heroine was portrayed by Lisa Macuja-Elizalde. Daunting and demanding, the role requires not only superior technique but also rare thespian talent, both of which Lisa combined in an awesomely captivating manner.
A simple, naïve village girl, Giselle falls deeply and desperately in love with Albrecht — Mikhail Martynyuk played the part — despite the deep, enduring affection of her village suitor Hilarion, aggressively and persuasively portrayed by Francis Cascano. Engaged to Lady Bathilde, Albrecht has disguised his royal lineage, flirting with Giselle while pretending to be one of the village lads.
Later discovering his duplicity, Lisa imbued the rejection with extraordinary depth. Dancing with her heart, her countenance mirroring her fathomless grief and despair, her body conveying emotions with fluid grace and filigree delicacy, while engaging impeccably in technical feat, she thereby integrated dance with drama. How magnificently Lisa depicted Giselle’s agony which drives her to madness and leads to her wrenching, climactic death.
At 37, Mikhail Martynyuk of the Kremlin Ballet Theater should be at summit of his career as Peter Martins was at the same age. As Albrecht, Mikhail was manly and virile yet touching in his dubious tenderness. With audacious yet refined freedom of movement, his buoyancy and élan in non-showy virtuosity, he displayed absolute authority and control in his leaps and tours en place which ended each time to the exact musical beat. Calling to mind the song about the man who flies through the air with the greatest of ease, how admirably Martynyuk duplicated the feat!
He and Lisa made a fiery, dynamic duo, the seamless, smooth and effortless lift injecting excitement to ballet that dancers rarely do. Martynyuk is 11 years younger than Lisa but with her timeless aura, who could have discerned the age gap?
The thrilling technical feats came one after the other. In the pas de deux executed by Megumi Mishimore and Rudy de Dios, her extensions were breathtaking, her arabesques making a perpendicular line, her turns swift, crisp and clear. Producing considerable impact, she was a dancer ablaze! De Dios rendered his part with infectious vitality and flair.
In their willowy tutus, the Wilis were an exquisite vision of floating spirits creating perfect lyrical lines, vibrantly gliding in total precision as they formed magical rows or circles. Seihee Hong was the strong-willed Martha, Queen of the Wilis; Jennifer Rose Olayvar and Joan Emery Sia were the lead Wilis.
The dancing of the rest of the ensemble was joyously fresh and vivid. Each one in the cast, from the soloists to the corps de ballet — miming was eloquent throughout — gave striking reality to the plot, as though there were indeed people rising from their graves like Giselle or spirits dancing like the Wilis.
As for the audience, its eye was focused on the dancing; its ear, on the glorious music rendered by the Manila Symphony Orchestra under the masterful baton of the Russian Alexander Vikulov, former conductor of the Marinsky Theater in St. Petersburg. His total conversance with the dance idiom was obvious, with the rise and fall of the music reflecting every mood, every emotion while dove-tailing with each dance step.
The standing ovation was a prolonged one, all performers, including Osias Barroso, Ballet Manila’s artistic associate and ballet master, richly deserving it. Doubtless, Lisa, a continuously startling fixture in the dance firmament, and Mikhail Martynyuk were the evening’s prime spectacle.