by Leigh Witchel
Restraint is the enemy of “Don Quixote.” Good taste matters in so much of ballet, but here it’s much more fun when it’s zesty and even a touch vulgar. At American Ballet Theatre, Skylar Brandt made her New York debut as Kitri, along with Cassandra Trenary as Mercedes and Gabe Stone Shayer as Espada, all anchored by the veteran performance of Herman Cornejo as Basilio. Shayer rushed on for his first entrance, posed and threw his cap. It soared all the way across the stage onto an upper balcony of the set. That’s the kind of performance it was.
This version, staged by Kevin McKenzie and Susan Jones, gets into the action as quickly as possible. When the curtain rose, the Don, played by Roman Zhurbin, was already on the road with Sancho Panza (Javier Rivet). He saw a vision of Dulcinea that looked suspiciously like a statue of the Madonna in a religious parade. Off we went to a happy Spanish village, one more like a three-ring Spanish circus.
The philosophy of the production is more is more. There was dancing center stage and constant business on the sides. It’s hard to see it all in a single go, but that’s the point. For Kitri, it’s like getting shot out of a cannon; Brandt came out jumping in split jetés and didn’t stop. She is small, strong, and well-prepared; it looked as if she’d both been coached and watched other Kitris. Herman Cornejo, who’s been doing Basilio forever, it seems, came out soon enough. With a guitar. Sure enough, it got tossed.
Brandt was smiling, sliding, spinning; she and Cornejo had good chemistry and she knew how to work a fan. She had few technical issues. There was no problem with the Act 1 castanet solo, including the repeated turns that look easy, but have a strong chance of wiping out.
Basilio defines Cornejo; it’s in his bones. How he does it is overlaps closely with how he wants to dance. He sailed through his trio with the flower girls, pitched himself into poses like a baroque scroll, swirled and swiveled in turns. Then he came out for another entry with four double saut de basques in a row. “Don Quixote” relies on energy and force, not pristine classical line.
This version is amped up, particularly for the men. All the matadors do double tour to passé and as Mercedes bourrées through the picador’s arrows (they weren’t knives here) the men did multiple turns. It was impressive but genuinely excessive: we didn’t watch her and that’s who we should have been looking at.
Shayer kept up the excess; he whirled his cape at the opening and threw it as if he were subduing a wild animal. Trenary was a strong Mercedes, but she looked like more of a Kitri. In this version Mercedes needs less steel and a more pliable back.
If the performance was spicy, it was also sweet. It omitted the taunting and airborne tossing of Sancho Panza. There was a lot of flirting, all taken in good humor. When Basilio flirted with the flower girls, Kitri forgave him when he admitted he was jealous when she flirted with the Don.
Excess! Cornejo did two one-armed presses with Brandt before intermission, and she hovered above him and waved her tambourine, smiling and smiling. They made the orchestra wait just a hair, so you knew she came down when she felt like it, thankyouverymuch.
Act 2 began with the gypsy camp. Again, the production stayed sweet-natured; the gypsies were glad to see the happy couple. And again, amped-up technique. A fiery gypsy dance with Elwince Magbitang and copper-haired Zimmi Coker, and all gypsy boys one after another knocking out their favorite pyrotechnics, with Magbitang capping it off with a wild rivoltade. Cornejo joined in the testosterone-laden fun, doing turns that continued past the music.
The ballet blanc in the Vision Scene mirrored the busy activity of the village; the groupings weren’t symmetrical, but haphazard: four dancers in a clump at the back, and a diagonal line on the other side. The dancing was secure. This production had Trenary double as Queen of the Dryads. She almost had trouble with her climactic Italian fouettés, but quickly got herself back on track. Brandt was rock solid, and dispatched her hops on pointe, finishing with a blistering piqué manège.
A quick change and off to an open air tavern. Everyone was there, everyone was zesty, everyone was throwing tankards. There was an extra dance for Espada and Mercedes with high kicks; but it was at the edge of what Shayer could control.
It takes a light touch to make suicide funny, but it’s cartoon humor, and Cornejo shrugged as he laid out a cloak to neatly die on. Both Cornejo and Brandt have good comic timing. Brandt braced the razor he used to stab himself with her foot to pull it out of his carcass. She tried to give him a drink, when it dawned on her he was faking, she drank the rest.
The Don married the couple, the ruse was disclosed and everyone made up immediately. The acting in “Don Quixote” isn’t hard, but Cornejo and Brandt could do it on top of the dancing, not either/or. John Gardner played Lorenzo as the exasperated but long-suffering father of a minx. He may have been less comic, but his sweet disposition helped make the plot work. As the intended match for Kitri, Luis Ribagorda’s Gamache somehow recalled Tim Curry in “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” Similar hair, same confidence.
Act 3 is where Kitri and Basilio get to prove they’re royalty in this Spanish circus. Brandt nailed her solo, selling the timing and every meticulously planned fan move. Without making it ridiculous, she souped up the technical level, embellishing the middle of the solo with attitude turns, and the end by amplifying from simpler pawing on pointe into a more complex piqué turn diagonal. Cornejo’s solo was full-on jamón ibérico. He soared through his jumps and even slicked his hair in the middle of a trick. This is what you come to see him do.
The coda was all-you-can-eat excess. He did crazy cabrioles, she nailed her fouettés, throwing in a triple and finishing with a real finish instead of an I’m-dizzy-save-me one.
If this was Brandt’s debut in a hard role on the Met stage, she’ll do fine. She did one or two unsupported balances in her duet with Cornejo that she couldn’t hold as long as she would have liked. But she had the steely confidence not to let it throw her or stop selling. And not all of ballet is about line, or taste. Some of it is about swagger.
copyright © 2022 by Leigh Witchel
“Don Quixote” – American Ballet Theatre
Metropolitan Opera House, New York, NY
June 14, 2022
Cover: Skylar Brandt and Herman Cornejo in “Don Quixote.” Photo © Rosalie O’Connor.
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