Optus Playhouse
May 19
The Queensland Ballet’s production of Don Quixote, which premiered in 2001, does not follow the familiar scenario of the Nureyev and Baryshnikov versions, but rather choreographer Francois Klaus has the character of Don Quixote as the main protagonist, drawing a parallel between his follies and the romantic dreams of an artist.
In two acts, the work is in parts a ballet within a ballet, with the familiar Minkus score and the love triangle of Kitri, Basilio and Gamache becoming a film of the ballet in production, complete with “film crew”. The dancer /artist playing the role of Don Quixote in the “film” falls asleep at the end of the day’s shooting and dreams, in character, of saving Dulcinea, while slaying the enemy in various scenarios taken directly from the 16th century Cervantes tale.
Revisiting my 2001 review I see that then, as now, my concern is with this dramatic construct. In trying to marry the more memorable parts of the traditional ballet with aspects of the Cervantes tale, Klaus has created a synopsis that is overly complicated and unwieldy.
The action is not propelled forward firmly enough in many parts, particularly in the second half of the first act. The dream of the artist as the conquering Don is a theme that is overly repeated, albeit in different guises, for little dramatic benefit. This section is therefore too long, maybe governed in part by the use of Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9, “From the New World”, which is otherwise a good musical fit.
The familiar sections of the traditional ballet are also dramatically weakened, because of their irrelevance to the main story in this instance, but also because of their placement. For instance, the grand wedding pas de deux, the climax of the traditional ballet, all but opens the second act.
That said, this is still a colourful and energetic production, with original set and costume designs (Alison Ross and Selene Cochrane), in part freshly realised, all expressively lit by Matt Scott.
Seeing the work again after 11 years evoked fond memories of performances by dancers long gone from the company, Rachael Walsh being the only member of the original cast. On the whole though, this cast is a match for the original, with the company ranks swelled by professional year dancers to thirty-seven.
Walsh, now reprising her roles as the Street Dancer (and the Duchess), is captivating: lithe and vivacious she upstages everyone, particularly in the opening scenes.
Clare Morehen (Kitri) shows absolute mastery of the role’s technical demands, including a solid 32 fouettés in the grand pas de deux coda. However, her delivery, particularly in the pas de deux, lacks the attack and vivacity necessary to engender much excitement. Hao Bin as Basilio is more charismatic, although he too could also embrace flamboyance more. For a dancer so tall his elevation is exceptional; with his long legs looking most elegant in white, Hao soars across the stage with unaffected and polished ease.
Lisa Edwards dances the dream-like role of Dulcinea with refinement and elegance while, apart from some unevenness in the Knights and Demoiselles section of the first act, the corps is strongly together and evokes the Spanish flavour of the Minkus sections with spirited animation.
Blair Wood (Don Quixote) and Keian Langdon (Sancho Panza), take the roles originally created by Paul Boyd and Anthony Lewis. Boyd was nearing the end of his career as a dancer in 2001 and therefore his portrayal of the tortured artist character had a gravitas that, naturally enough, mostly eludes Wood, who is a very young member of the company.
Nevertheless, Wood, who is a lithe, finely built dancer, looks the part and carries much of the ballet with aplomb. Langdon, a natural comic and often cast in such roles, has a fluid, expressive style. Recently promoted to principal, it would be good to see him in something meatier.
A final duet between Wood and Langdon pulls the work together, as both dancers finally get to dance unconstrained by their Don Quixote characterisations, the artist (Wood) realising he can neither live with, nor without his dreams. Again this was a little too long, but quite poetically expressing the thematic underpinning of the whole work. It’s just a pity it wasn’t said sooner.
– DENISE RICHARDSON