ABT Works Hard to Create Magic in ‘Nutcracker’
In one sense, the American Ballet Theatre “Nutcracker†and the Kodak Theatre in Hollywood are made for each other.
Extensively revised since its problematic premiere eight years ago at the Orange County Performing Arts Center, the staging by ABT artistic director Kevin McKenzie is now a faceless, by-the-numbers version that doesn’t bear careful attention. Putting it in a glittering, brand-new theater gives it an event status that it can’t command alone--even with starry casting atypical of the company’s Southland visits in recent years and some stars-in-the-making coming from the lower ranks.
Moreover, the sight-line conditions at the Kodak make the best viewpoints the very front of the mezzanine and balconies: locations relatively far from the stage where the audience is less likely to be distracted by performance accidents (the snowfall inside the parlor early in Act 1, for instance) or production miscalculations (the projection of Victor Barbee’s face inside the clock at all performances--even when somebody else dances Drosselmeyer).
In the orchestra seats and raised loge area just behind, the floor rake from row to row isn’t always generous enough to keep the head in front of you from blocking your view--unless that head belongs to a child.
The Hollywood Bowl Orchestra accompanies the ABT performances but, except in a few rows close to the pit, the sound of it comes from proscenium loudspeakers--and the effect can be uncomfortably directional if you sit in the orchestra section but nicely mixed and very vibrant for those further back.
“Nutcracker†connoisseurs will note that McKenzie sanctions cuts in the score--repeats in Act 1, two whole divertissements and the end of the Sugar Plum solo in Act 2--but doubles the length of one passage so Clara and her Nutcracker can have an extensive duet before and after his transformation.
In 1993 (when the production was also seen at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion), McKenzie and playwright Wendy Wasserstein created a hopelessly confusing narrative that superimposed the traditional Clara ballet plot on the original E.T.A. Hoffmann story elements that Mark Morris made famous as “The Hard Nut.â€
No longer. Some confusing mime passages remain, but most of the novelty now centers on Paul Kelly’s set designs: the moving parts of his false proscenium, the saw-toothed wall panels that form a giant Christmas tree when they open and, particularly, the giant flower buds that burst into exotic bloom in Act 2.
Unfortunately Kelly fails at the big scenic effect built into the story and score: the growing Christmas tree, an effect that lacks any sense of magic here. Many local community productions are much more exciting in this sequence, and McKenzie’s staging of the Nutcracker’s transformation proves equally mundane. Wearing costumes by Theoni V. Aldredge that ranged from dull period party clothes to imaginative fantasy creations, four enjoyable ABT casts animated this workaday “Nutcracker†over the weekend, with some of the company’s celebrated principals looking surprisingly miscast and some of its unheralded corps members achieving breakthrough successes.
Angel Corella, for instance, may be a world-class virtuoso, but the constant lifting duties required of the Nutcracker left him seriously overtaxed on Friday opposite the sweet, natural Xiomara Reyes as Clara. Corps dancer Sean Stewart seemed far more comfortable in the role the following afternoon, dancing with the spirited Anne Milewski, and his corps colleague Gennadi Saveliev boasted an ideal mix of bravura and partnering prowess on Saturday night, partnering the understated Clara of Sandra Brown.
For sheer charm, however, it would be hard to beat the joyous Nutcracker of Joaquin de Luz and the winsome Clara of Erica Cornejo on Sunday afternoon.
Although Clara remains the dancing heroine of McKenzie’s version, the Sugar Plum Fairy does appear as the star figure in the last-act divertissement. Julie Kent looked far too dangerously emaciated to carry the high-calorie name “Sugar Plum†on Saturday afternoon, but her lyrical powers remained impressive, and she had the benefit of the stratospheric partnering finesse of Jose Manuel Carreno. Dancing opposite the capable but needlessly haughty Carlos Molina, a majestic Gillian Murphy, on Sunday afternoon, offered the widest range of ballerina virtues on Sunday afternoon, with her pointe work especially artful.
Mannered and rather impersonal, Irina Dvorovenko and Maxim Belotserkovsky efficiently led the Friday cast, and Saturday night fell to Paloma Herrera--uncharacteristically regal but with a penchant for hot multiple, high-velocity turns--and the elegant if cautious Marcelo Gomes.
Barbee, Guillaume Graffin and Ethan Brown alternated as Drosselmeyer, but there’s no dramatic profile to the role, whoever plays it (though Barbee gets points for detail), and it makes little effect despite a number of splashy entrances. Murphy, Stella Abrera, Anna Liceica and Michele Wiles danced diligently as the Snow Queen, with the fleet, dynamic Liceica making the most of its technical opportunities.
Although most of the Act 2 specialty dances look choreographically flat, McKenzie’s Trepak cleverly translates the concept of the stacked Russian matryoshka doll into a quartet featuring dancers of different heights--including a child. Choreographed by former company principal John Meehan, “Waltz of the Flowers†deftly incorporates principals, soloists and corps, though some of the converging groupings grow cluttered.
Among the divertissement solo dancers, only Sascha Radetsky (Saturday afternoon) faultlessly executed the fearsome gymnastic partnering in the Arabian duet, though Murphy, Abrera and Carmen Corella all managed to look convincingly imperious when being dangled (and sometimes nearly dropped).
Charles Barker and David LaMarche shared weekend conducting responsibilities, though it was impossible to know whether the occasionally weird orchestral balances reflected their choices or those of the sound engineers.
*
American Ballet Theatre, “The Nutcracker,†with shifting casts, through Dec. 23 at the Kodak Theatre, 6801 Hollywood Blvd. (at Highland), Hollywood. Tuesdays through Fridays, 7:30 p.m.; Saturdays and Sundays, 2 and 7:30 p.m. $30 to $80. (213) 365-3500.
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