Three swans: part II
[NOTE: Please see Part I.]
“Swan Lake” is—among other things—the story of a woman named Odette who’s got a lot of reasons to be afraid. After all, she’s under an evil magician’s spell that turns her into a swan by day, able to resume her human form only at night.
But then she meets a man under rather strange circumstances, tells him her sad story, gradually learns to trust him, and finally falls in love. Later on, her prince betrays her without meaning to. The evil magician tricks him into it, and the consequences are dire.
But let’s not worry about that right now; we’ve got some video clips to watch.
When Odette meets the prince one night she’s initially trembling with fear, desperate to fly away—forgetting, perhaps, that for now she’s a woman and not a swan, and cannot fly. After all, he just tried to kill her when she was in swan form, and it was only after she materialized as a woman and explained her predicament to him that he put away his bow and tried to reassure her that she and her fellow swan-maidens were safe with him.
And then they dance. What else?
Here’s a passage in their pas de deux; I call it the flying lifts (you’ll see why in a moment). The name of the dancer performing them is Polina Semionova. Although this video is undated, I believe she’s in her mid-to-late twenties here (she’s only 28 now).
Semionova is a tall-looking woman (although she’s probably not all that tall in absolute terms; see this) with a body whose long lean lines look as though she’s been in a taffy pull. She’s thin even for a ballerina, yet possessed of a steely strength. As is the custom nowadays, her extensions (the height of the raised leg, the one on which she is not standing) are towering, and she has a natural elegance, stateliness, and reserve.
When I watch clips of Semionova, I’m torn between admiration of her astounding physical attributes and—well, take a look yourself at Semionova doing the flying lifts, and see what you think (they last about a minute):
For perspective on Semionova’s phenomenal technique, let’s take a trip back in time to one of the greatest Swan Queens of the 1940s and 1950s, Maya Plisetskaya. This video is also undated, but I’m guessing it was made in the 1960s or even 1970s, because Plisetskaya’s technique—alas—had already begun to fade by the time of this performance. Plisetskaya was known for the fluidity of her seemingly boneless arms, the height of her powerful jump, her flexible back, and her charismatic personality. But unfortunately, in this passage where she does the “flying” lifts, you don’t really see too much of that, partly because the tempo is so fast. The effect is of a flurry of movement:
The contrast between Plisetskaya and Semionova clearly shows the advances in ballet technique that have occurred over the years. These two women are like two entirely different creatures. And “creatures” is the right word, because although the Swan Queen Odette is a woman while dancing with Prince Siegfried, she is a swan-woman, exhibiting both of her essences simultaneously. Semionova shows her hybrid nature in the curves her entire body forms in space; she seems other-wordly and not quite human in the physical sense. With Plisetskaya the audience sees the human aspect more.
But despite the fact that the flying lifts are much more effective in Semionova, Plisetskaya is a warmer dancer. My reservations about Semionova that I referred to earlier involve that fact that she remains remote and emotionally aloof, encased in her sorrow like armor, so that while I may admire her immensely, I never deeply care about her.
And then there’s Natalia Makarova, my personal favorite in this role. Here’s a video of the same moment performed by Makarova and made in 1976 at the peak of her career (she was 36 at the time).
Makarova is small and delicate, unlike either Semionova the tall and elongated or Plisetskaya the sturdy mesomorph with the liquid arms. There is no single thing you notice about Makarova when she dances; her technique is absorbed into her artistry and is never virtuosity for its own sake, but one seamless flowing whole of body, mind, heart, and spirit:
Notice, also, that she looks at the Prince several times, lovingly. And that her flying lifts express the idea of escape and longing, simultaneously.
To be continued…
you left out the all male version of swan lake that was on broadway…
All the Swans At This Lake Are Male
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/10/arts/dance/10bourne.html
[perhaps they will rewrite the ugly duckling to be more like ‘Crusin’?]
Great being understood as ‘much to my liking’ and not so much ‘my understanding’ Semionova was great. And my yes she is thin. But I suspect in the world of the lithe she would be among the most lithesome.
And Neo, are their ballets dreaded by dancers for their difficulty, akin to, say, what Chopin is to concert pianists?
To my unskilled eye, there are differences in the performances, but all are, to me anyway, quite beautiful and awesome. I did notice that there was a slower tempo for Semionovo’s perfomance. That, I would suppose, makes the movements more difficult.
I expect that you see a dance performance much the way I see an acrobatic sequence in an airplane. To the unschooled eye it all looks effortless and just so. To the trained eye, there are nuances and tiny differences that seem quite obvious.
I sometimes ask, who decided it would be a good idea to dance on one’s toes? Probably a bit like deciding to use a bent stick to hit a ball and put it in eighteeen small holes in the ground. Because it’s a challenge and it provides entertainment? Many people want to slide by and take the easy path through life. Then there are those who dream up new ways to challenge themselves. Like ballet dancers, golfers, and mountain climbers.
J.J.: This is the person who is usually given credit (or blame?) for deciding it would be a good idea to dance on one’s toes.
But perhaps the history is a bit more complex. See this.
I often have a problem in discussing classical music performances (recorded) with friends who have very definite ideas, because I’m very conscious of sound quality, so I’m never sure how much of my response, whether positive or negative, is to the interpretation and how much to the quality of the recording. Similarly here, I was pretty much smitten with Semionova, with Makarova a close second. But I’m not sure how much of that has to do with the fact that the Semionova video is of higher quality and I like the staging. Also, I much prefer the slower tempo on musical grounds alone.
I wouldn’t describe Semionova as emotionally aloof. But I do see something that I guess is what you’re talking about–some kind of reserve. To me it registers as almost anguished, powerful emotion under powerful restraint, which to me is often very moving. Makarova is more open and in a sense warmer. Trying to focus my impression on the pure aesthetics of movement, I’d be hard put to chose between them.
I think I was more touched by these than any ballet performance I’ve seen, which is not very many at all. So thanks. This is fascinating.
Thanks for the links, neo. It is as I thought. Striving for new ways to do things whether it’s art, music, athletics, business, or any human endeavor; it’s what many do. Thank God! Where would we be without that?
I just bought her a ring. I’m now indentured 🙂
I thought I’d announce it.
Thank you for another enchanting and educating post!
The extreme extensions of the modern dancer are definitely a double-edged sword – as you say, it makes Semionova more otherwordly, while the other two dancers are more female and, well, human. The most glaring example is Semionova’s leg-in-the-air on those over-the-shoulder lifts, which the other two dancers give more finesse, if less extension.
Semionova also seems to be moving from pose to pose. Both the other dancers link the motions and give them more emotional content – for example they both “drive” their pirouettes directly to the final pose, which gives them an expressive logic. Semionova seems to be moving through disconnected poses.
She’s also the least connected to her partner most of the time – although it seems that the other two stagings use much more expressive variations in the arm motions and interaction between the dancers. I don’t recall Semionova doing the back-bend that Plisetskaya does while facing her partner. And you’re right that Makarova directly addresses her partner more.
Plisetskaya is my sentimental favorite because of her personal story – but Makarova strikes a wonderful balance between technical excellence and expression.
Let’s also credit Ivan Nagy, who lifts Makarova higher than the other guys lift their partners.
Ben David: yes, and in Part III I hope to write a bit about Ivan Nagy, one of the greatest partners of all time (which is not the same as being one of the greatest dancers).
I love to watch ballet but only have a rudimentary understanding of the art. For that reason, I love your ballet posts, because I always learn something. All three were beautiful, but I thought the third expressed the emotion of the story much better than the first two.
Thank you, neo, for another wonderful post on dancing.
This is the first time I’ve seen Semionova, and she is technically brilliant, almost on par, say, with Diana Vishneva. But, I still prefer Makarova and was pleased that all these years later this video clip validates my memory of her dancing Odette. She was stunning on stage and it was just so easy to get lost in her dancing. As for Pisetskaya, somewhere we have packed away an unofficial VHS recording of her dancing Swan Lake and she was spellbinding – and more swan than woman to boot!
Thank you for these ballet posts, Neo.
I absolutely love the music, but, frankly, the dancing seems to me to be a distraction. That is why I very much appreciate your posts on ballet: a reminder from someone I respect that my own view is not only limited, but that others have sensations that I am unaware of.
This is actually a political point. Each of us is an individual, and just because I dislike something, that doesn’t mean that someone else might get a lot of pleasure out of that same thing. Therefore, I should not try to control what others can do based upon my own tastes.
Thank you.
I enjoy your dance posts. I am a great admirer of ballet (some might call me a balletomane). I was wondering if I could pick your brain about an observation of mine that I haven’t been able to share with anyone.
It’s my general observation that partner-assisted pirouettes and finger turns have gotten progressively slower since the 1960s. The ladies used to attack these somewhat furiously, with a passion, arms folded in much tighter to accommodate this. Nowadays they are generally more slowed and controlled (barring Forsythe’s work, perhaps).
I must admit I wish the contemporary artists would find middle ground between technical perfection (slowness) and joie de vivre (fury) in these turns.