by Leigh Witchel
It was chilly at the Lake this summer. In American Ballet Theatre’s two-decades-plus-old production of “Swan Lake,” Calvin Royal III and Christine Shevchenko gave a beautiful but cool performance that favored physical beauty over drama.
The Prologue did not go smoothly; the “purple” von Rothbart, Andrii Ishchuk, caught Shevchenko out of an overhead helicopter toss askew. The lighting was murky during the transformation; add to that a scrim and there seemed to be hints of red in the swan’s crown. If you didn’t know, she might have turned into a chicken.
When Royal made his entrance to join his birthday celebration, it seemed as if his predecessor in the company was David Hallberg. They have similar greyhound builds; Royal’s legs are slender, and so very long. That gives him some of the same beautiful lines as Hallberg, and also similar challenges. His body is loose, so turning jumps could get flyaway, but steps done tightly to his axis were gorgeous.
Royal also shares with Hallberg elegant deportment, carriage and mime. He looked noble. One way he’s not like Hallberg: Royal played Siegfried as a happy prince. It’s his birthday, after all. But sometimes this didn’t add up, as when the Queen asked if he had been drinking. He was more amused than aroused by the women who flirted with him; his innocence made him look as if accusing him of being dissolute was a serious misread.
Then again, Claire Davison played the Queen as if she gave Siegfried over to the care of wet nurses and tutors years ago. That made John Gardner’s role as the tutor more pivotal in Act 1. The Queen gave Siegfried his birthday gift of a crossbow, strode up the stairs to the palace entrance, acknowledged the crowd and was gone.
Royal seemed disjointed from the production. It’s set up to have a disaffected Siegfried; everyone around him was acting as if he were dissolute or a ladies’ man. He seemed like neither. He paid careful attention to the women he danced with, but like a partner. Yet the tutor seemed concerned and the ladies tried to keep the tutor away from Siegfried.
The dancing in his solo showed off his beautiful line and phrasing in arcing renversés and one stepover turn to the next with a ramrod straight axis. After, he raced off sadly. That could have been a pivotal moment for understanding Siegfried, but it happened in the midst of the peasants starting the final dance of the act before going off to drink.
In the pas de trois immediately before that, all three dancers opened well. Sung Woo Han had to jump in for Blaine Hoven as Benno, and hit sunny, clean finishes in his solo. Paulina Waski was charming and buoyant in the second of the two female solos. Sierra Armstrong had nice elevation in the entrechats during her variation, but lost her bearings in her final diagonal.
There were more clues to Siegfried’s character in the curtain scene. The tutor had asked Benno to go after Siegfried in the prior scene, Benno caught up with Siegfried, suggested he hunt, and gave him his crossbow. We didn’t have a clear sense of what was wrong (was it depression?) but we saw that his friends were worried about Siegfried.
We met the swans shortly after. As Odette, Shevchenko was almost the stereotype of the role, exactly what you would imagine without even seeing it. Shevchenko did her mime more decoratively than conversationally, emphasizing beautiful poses over speech and meaning. With extravagantly curved lines and flapping arms, she delivered shapes throughout Act 2.
Brushing Royal’s hands away from her before lying down, the two started a beautifully sculpted adagio. Again, she delivered Essence of Odette, with high attitudes and swooning arabesques. He had the ethics of a partner: she came first and he all but vanished, completing her lines. Her solo ticked off all the right positions, particularly the final stepover diagonal.
More than anything with this pairing, you saw impeccable shapes. The problem was, you didn’t always feel them. Her diagonal of arabesques in the coda seemed off the music. She caught up, and in this production the emphasis has always been the entrechats that follow right after. Yet for someone who shaped so much, she didn’t do a lot with the moment when Von Rothbart reasserted his control over her. Her arms went to her sides without much happening in her back. It was beautiful but distant white act.
They both had a better handle on Act 3. Royal pointed up Siegfried’s isolation. As the princesses danced, he positioned himself so that he was alone. He danced with courtesy, partnering all four women equally but by rote; a spectator at his own betrothal. By the last, though, he was pacing and frowning. He didn’t even look at the women a final time before rejecting all of them.
Kevin McKenzie’s conception of Von Rothbart requires the dancer to go over over-the-top. It doesn’t work unless it’s really threatening, sexy or funny. Ishchuk didn’t go far enough. He slithered to the throne, but cautiously chucked his cape to the chair from a short distance instead of tossing it from afar. The queen didn’t seem to believe his lies as he danced for her, but seemed peeved because she was turned on even so.
Shevchenko played a stereotypical villainess. All the technique – turns and balances – happened, and in between she stared out and smacked into positions. She handled all the demands of her solo, with some turns singles, others doubles. Royal maneuvered her around for countless pirouettes in the adagio, but they weren’t working off each other as actors. She was supposed to be aloof, but she barely checked on him. She was overly confident this was all going to work, and that made her seem like a bitch in a vacuum. The two did the zillion turn trick again during the music for the vision of Odette that’s not in this production, and once again at the end of the adage. That’s a lot of times to use the same trick.
Royal smiled broadly for the first time in his solo. He was tired and some lines, and his feet, showed it. That was another aspect in common with Hallberg. With a similar lanky build and beautiful long lines, that body type takes longer to develop endurance. When the deception was revealed, Royal was stunned, shouting in mime to to Von Rothbart, “Who are you? Who is she?”
It’s not uncommon for couples to finally get to the emotional pitch in Act 4 that they should have started at in Act 2. It happened here. After a storm where Siegfried had to fight his way to the lake against the Swans in flight, he reached it as the music rose to a crash and Odette came out, posing in back tendu on the cliff. McKenzie gave Siegfried a lot of toting and carrying in the reconciliation duet, and Royal made sure it happened. But he and Shevchenko were also showing emotion and working together.
Duncan Lyle deserves a lot more applause for the monster role where he does much of the heavy lifting, in puke green no less, while the guy in purple and gold gets all the applause. He made his monster story detailed and clear, walking flat footed over to Siegfried about to do him in, only to notice Odette on the cliff about to jump. She tumbled over; Royal did the pas de poisson that seems to be the dramatic leap of choice for the company’s Siegfrieds.
Where “Giselle” is probably McKenzie’s most cogent classical staging, “Swan Lake” has always had gaps, and if new Artistic Director Susan Jaffe is going to replace any of the central productions, this one’s the weakest. Despite the production’s shortcomings, the corps was in good shape, and properly drilled. What was missing was the core of the story. Royal and Shevchenko have everything they need to pull it off if they can live the story as well as show it.
copyright © 2023 by Leigh Witchel
“Swan Lake” – American Ballet Theatre
Metropolitan Opera House, New York, NY
July 15, 2023
Cover: American Ballet Theatre in “Swan Lake.” Photo © Rosalie O’Connor.
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