The Royal Ballet’s new look Cinderella went live at a gala that celebrated 75 years of Sir Frederick Ashton’s 1948 production. It was a glittery and glamorous occasion both on and off stage, and it is good to report that there was plenty of sparkle in the dancing too.
The build up to the opening night was largely focused on new set designs by Tom Pye and costumes by Alexandra Byrne, both of whom have illustrious successes behind them. They did not disappoint. Lighting by David Finn, video by Finn Ross and illusions by Chris Fisher contributed to make this a multi-sensory experience. Ashton’s choreography manages to find a perfect balance between understated classicism and pantomime farce.
A stunning front cloth (which got stuck briefly) revealed a predictably sparse kitchen, but the colours of the costumes immediately brought warmth to the scene. The period was indeterminate or perhaps one should say, timeless. Fabrics and colours seemed current; the crinolines of the women’s skirts, more likely Victorian; the uniformly bouffant coiffure, complete with carefully manicured quiffs for the men in the second act, were distinctly 1950s. Indeed the hairdos and wigs were transfixing throughout, occasionally claiming their own choreography: Philip Mosley’s scene-stealing loss of his wig in the ballroom scene was a corker.
Pye’s Act 2 palace and garden were stupendous, giving a sense of depth and grandeur to the building, but it was Act 1’s transformation scene that really fired the imagination. As the building began to break up, the window at the rear expanded, the spidery shadows of the Fairy Godmother in Disguise (Olga Sabadoch) crept past like an animated Arthur Rackham illustration. As the Fairy Godmother (Fumi Kaneko) emerged and introduced the seasonal fairies, so the colours became vibrant and the proscenium was flooded with blooms of every variety. If the pumpkin seemed a little underwhelming when Cinderella first brings it on, the resulting carriage, combined with Cinderella’s exquisite, shimmering cloak (Byrne really delivered here) were very much in the realm of fairytale magic.
The casting on the opening night was mostly predictable and very positive. Ashton is known for his quicksilver steps; his use of the upper body and épaulement; rapid changes in direction and above all, musicality. Many visitors to the production will be unaware of the pitfalls in doing the choreography justice – dancers are trained to make it look easy. The cast all worked hard to show the production at its very best, but the most successful were those that embodied Ashton’s famous style. Of the fairies, Anna Rose O’Sullivan as the Fairy Spring was outstanding, particularly in her phrasing and neat footwork. Kaneko too, was a gracious and streamlined Fairy Godmother. In Act 2, Taisuke Nakao was a Jester so light and springy, that he spent more time in the air than on the ground. The purity of the classical work was deliciously contrasted by the comedy of Cinderella’s Stepsisters, on this occasion danced by Gary Avis and Luca Acri. Avis, such a consummate artist in all his varied repertoire, was hilarious in his many moves and readable thought processes. Acri was a bit of a revelation as the shorter, rather henpecked sister. I have never before been so bowled over by his larger-than-life personality. They both took a bit of time to warm up in Act 1, but throughout Act 2 and 3, they got into their stride and dispatched some priceless facial expressions.
However, the evening belonged to Marianela Nuñez and Vadim Muntagirov, who are exemplars of pure, classical ballet. Nuñez was presented at the close of the evening with a medal, to honour her 25 years of service to The Royal Ballet. Yet while most ballerinas of a certain age are considering bowing out gracefully, Nuñez, like a very fine wine, is simply getting better and better. Her work is defined by what appears to be the consideration of every breath, step, gesture, phrase and thought. It’s not just her stretched feet and legs, it’s how she presents the foot, the way she controls her preparations and seems innately to understand exactly where her weight should be. She’s a good natured Cinders at the start of the ballet and morphs visibly into a wondrous apparition of elegance. Muntagirov is equally polished and is possibly the finest proponent of princes on the planet. He’s such a considerate partner, so self-deprecating in the way he presents his partner like a jewel, which with Nuñez, was most certainly the case.
After the very challenging solos of Act 2, which are unusually presented before the pas de deux, Act 3 could have felt a little devoid of electrifying dancing. Somehow, though it’s taken at a slower pace, it was no less magical. As Cinderella and her Prince walked up the long flight of stairs to their ‘happily ever after’ ending, it left us with a similar feeling. The Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, conducted by Koen Kessels, was the icing on the pumpkin. An undoubted triumph for The Royal Ballet. I’m sure Ashton would have been thrilled.
