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By Patricia Boccadoro
PARIS,
18 December 2002 - Edouard
Lock working with the Paris Opera Ballet? Was the Palais Garnier,
temple of classical dance, really the place for this contemporary
Canadian choreographer from Quebec, famous for his strenuously
athletic style, and notable collaborations with such people as David
Bowie?
With disappointments, including Odile Duboc's
Gershwin offering and Spanish choreographer Blanca Li's Shéhérazade,
still in mind, it seemed that artistic director Brigitte Lefèvre
was again putting her head in a noose with her latest commission.
However, having seen many of the French-Canadian's creations and with
the conviction that if Lock "misappropriated" classical
language it was to offer very acceptable alternatives, Lefèvre
took the risk and her gamble paid off. Lock's powerful creation, AndréAuria
was excellent.
 Marie-Agnès
Gillot and Yann Bridard in AndréAuria ©
Photos: Icare
The
curtain rose on a darkened stage. Two grand pianos, which formed an
integral part of the decor and almost seemed to participate in the
action, were just about visible towards the back of the set, glinting
through the semi-obscurity, while four white metallic vertical bars
moved from left to right, and again from front-stage to back as the
choreography unfolded. Even more striking was John Munro's clever use
of light, with spotlights focusing first a couple, then a trio of
dancers, settling on one dancer only to move to another. Irrespective
of any choreography, it was already a feast for the eyes.
The
costumes designed by Liz Vandal contributed to a possibly
unintentional harmonious whole, with the women clad in flattering
short black stretch-suits, while the men wore black trousers and
jackets over black, and later white, open-necked shirts. The
choreography, created separately for each of the eleven interpreters
who were all superb, was extremely rapid, almost spasmodic, and sought
neither to illustrate a theme nor tell a story, but rather, in Lock's
own words, to "analyse the abstract complexity of the human body".
Far from resembling William Forsythe, to whom Lock has sometimes been
mistakenly compared, Lock did not push the dancers to extremes, but
drew upon an accumulation of movements.
A
few days after seeing the ballet, I spoke to première danseuse,
the magnificent, long-legged Marie-Agnès Gillot, unsurprisingly
chosen for the leading role by Lock.
 Marie-Agnès
Gillot , Jean-Philippe Dury in AndréAuria Choreography:
Edouard Lock © Photos: Icare
"It's
the rapidity of the movement which is important to Lock", she
told me. "We don't take enormous risks with him as we did with
Forsythe, for he gives you a position, then superimposes another, then
again another on top of that, and it is the speed of the transposition
which interests him, joining each gesture to the following to make the
movement. The danger of course is that you can easily trip up as it
all happens so fast . But he never sends us off balance, and we don't
have to stretch our bodies into impossible angles . "
"He
is a creator of images rather than movement, and what fascinated me
was that he worked essentially with, and on each dancer, using their
different personalities.", she explained. "Moreover, he also
played upon our state of mind, on the mood we were in as we arrived at
rehearsal which was not so happy as you might imagine, because we only
had a month to learn and perfect the whole work. When we felt good, he
reflected it in his choreography, which became joyous, but if we had a
problem the following day, the ballet became more sombre, and he
altered our positions to mirror the change. Consequently, the
beginning of André Auria is gayer than the ending,
which is full of tears. "
The
ballerina also pointed out that Lock frequently asked them to
incorporate such everyday actions as rubbing their eyes, touching
their mouth or wiping the sweat off their forehead into the work, and
that it was the very simplicity of the gesture, which, when
accelerated lost all heaviness and became almost poetical, a word not
normally associated with Edouard Lock. It gave the ballet some kind of
inner meaning, which instilled the strictly non-narrative work with
its own strange atmosphere.
 Clairemarie
Osta, Stéphane Bullion in AndréAuria ©
Photos: Icare
"For
a ballet with no given theme, I felt a whole palette of emotions I
never dreamed I'd feel when I first learned the choreography",
Gillot said. "It was also fantastic to dance, despite being scary
because of the incredible speed he demanded. If anyone had hesitated
but a fraction of a second, they'd have been lost," she added. "Moreover,
the music gave no indication of where we were up to. You could only
find your bearings by listening to the rhythm of the others. In fact",
she laughed, "when there was silence, it was easier! "
Gillot,
who plays the part of AndréAuria, a transvestite Lock met
twenty-five years previously, leaves the stage to dress as a man,
while the work, more classical at this moment, continued without her.
In fact, she never saw the other members of the cast apart from her
partner Yann Bridard,
sulky, wild, feline and full of grace, and the remarkable Stephanie
Romberg with whom she rehearsed. Her final stunning pas de deux with
young dancer Stéphane Bullion broke off abruptly shortly after
it began.....
Lock conceived the ballet as a sequel to Amélia,
a title again inspired by a second transvestite met twenty-five years
ago, a work he created for his own troupe, and premièred in
Prague last year. The links, he says, are to be found in the realms of
the imagination and in the style of the choreography with its use of
pointe-work, its dizzying speed, and in what he declares as a
distortion of the classical language of dance. The Canadian
choreographs in silence; in this work, his fourth with composer David
Lang, they work independently. The music, discordant, bang-bang,
boring and repetitive, and particularly ear-splitting in Amélia,
the sister ballet, does not meet the choreography until the meal is
served, so to speak. But it seems to suit his style.
AndréAuria
was deservedly well-received.
Patricia
Boccadoro writes on dance in Europe. She contributes to The Guardian,
The Observer and Dancing Times and was dance consultant to the BBC
Omnibus documentary on Rudolf Nureyev. Ms. Boccadoro is the dance editor
for Culturekiosque.com. |
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