#lacotte

[detournementsmineurs]

“Costume" d'Eugène Lami et Michel Fresnay porté par Ghislaine Thesmar dans le rôle-titre de "La Sylphide” de Filippo Taglioni (1832) repris et chorégraphié par Pierre Lacotte (1972) à l'exposition “Héroïnes Romantiques” du Musée de la Vie Romantique, Paris, juillet 2022.

[vaganovaballetandmore]

About Paquita...

andreussita

Yeah but isn’t Lacotte’s version an inspiration from the original ballet of Mazilier? If I recall that was the full lenght ballet (the one form Mazilier) and Petipa was the first to present it in Russian stage, but from what I know the original is not from him only the Grand Pas. That is only what I recall…

By the way how can I reply a response without having to submit again. Sorry I’m new in tumblr. 

I've googled it, turns out Lacotte's version is indeed based on Mazilier's ballet. Petipa staged it in Russia and added the grand pas and the pas de trois I believe Which means that the pieces which are still done are originally from him. he also made the pas de trois.

You can simply reblog and write something under my captions, or you could just leave a message in my askbox ;)

[balletchat]

Dancing with the pharaohs

Pierre Lacotte is truly admirable. The 80 year old French choreographer who specializes in reconstructing lost ballets from the 19th century likes to remember how his dance teacher Lyubov Yegorova, who worked with Marius Petipa, made him promise never to forget the original choreography of the classical repertoire.

He is admirable in the sense that he took a lot of risks resuscitating works like La fille du Pharaon (1862), Paquita (1846) or the original La Sylphide (1832), when most of the notations were lost and those who danced them either died or could not remember the steps anymore.

How would you indeed recreate almost 90% of a grandiose ballet like La Fille du Pharaon, which marked Petipa's breakthrough as a choreographer at the Mariinsky and was the precursor of the era of the ballets à grand spectacle (including the holy trinity of Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty and the Nutcracker).

The task is even more daunting when very little of the original choreography survived, based on notations found in the Harvard University Theater Collection.

Performed for the last time in 1928 (before it was cast away by the Soviets for its 'negligible artistic value'), La Fille du Pharaon was recreated in 2000 by Lacotte for the Bolshoi Theater, 138 years after the premiere of the original work which is based on a libretto by Jules Henri de Saint Georges and inspired by a Théophile Gautier novel, Le Roman de la Momie (the same duo who gave us Giselle).

It was set at a time Europe, especially France and Victorian Britain, was swept away by Egyptomania, fuelled by Napoleon's campaign, the latest excavations and a fascination by the culture of ancient Egypt. At a time where cinema did not exist, one can imagine the awe of St Petersburg public when they saw the pharaonic columns, the imposing (fake) statues, dazzling costumes and almost 400 performers on stage.

(Below is a photo I took during one of the five performances of La Fille du Pharaon presented at the Bolshoi last week)

In Lacotte's version, the show is still there, with the most exquisite costumes and imposing sets, despite their kitschiness (the curtain marking the passage from one scene to another looks like coming straight from a Disney production). The public is also entitled to see a stuffed monkey, a toy lion which is supposed to be scary, a fake cobra in a vase, a live horse, and the so not politically correct little black(ned) slaves.

The story, which sounded so exotic for 19th century audience, and although revised by Lacotte, may fail to grip today's public imagination. An Englishman, Lord Wilson, traveling in Egypt with his servant John Bull, smokes opium and is transformed into an Egyptian, Taor, who falls in love with the beautiful Aspicia, a powerful pharaoh's daughter, who is also desired by the evil king of Nubia.

One might argue that the libretto is no less odd or anachronistic than other classics like La Bayadère or Le Corsaire. But the problem is that production, although lavish, has kept too many cartoonish elements, in an attempt maybe to be faithful to the original.

On the Bolshoi stage, so suitable for bombastic productions, the love scenes and subsequent pas de deux, appear lacking a bit of intimacy (lighting could have been worked out to heighten the romance passages).

The dancing is delightful and exhausting. The ballet, which spans on almost three hours, has enough variations to fill whole repertoire. Some of them are charming, other are seriously tricky, and you really need to concentrate to have the steps printed in your mind.

It does not matter if the dancing seems sometimes to be "copy pasted" on the scenario. What is particularly interesting is the batteries used in the new choreography, which we don't see much in other ballets, theses successions of entrechats, jetés,petite cabriole, small and fast piqué and assemblés.

In an interview about La Fille du Pharaon, Lacotte insisted on the importance of preserving the allegro dancing which is "tending to disappear". The virtuosity of the "petits pas" (small steps) "must still dazzle the audience", he says.

Particularly challenging are the main roles, especially Aspicia's, brilliantly performed by dance goddess Svetlana Zakharova who seems to relish the role of Aspicia, performing it with clear confidence and an unflinching smile. More than 100 years ago, a prima ballerina of the imperial era in Russia, Mathilde Kesshinskaya (famous otherwise for having been the lover of the last tsar Nicolas II) liked the role so much that she demanded she was to be the only lead in this ballet, according to Russian ballet critic Anna Gordeeva.

In the role of Taor, Ruslan Skvortsov is an efficient and very light partner, quite suitable for the famous petits pas. Is it is a shame that the role of Ramze (Aspicia's nubian slave) has not been developped enough just for the pleasure of seeing always delightful Nina Kaptsova. The same could said about Denis Medvedev as Passiphonte (Taor's servant) who has only one (brilliantly funny) variation.

I am not quite sure what to think about Cesare Pugni's music, which was also revived and was partly lost. It is most of the time predictable, occasionally irritable and sometimes quite pleasant, especially in the variations.

In the Bolshoi DVD bonus of La Fille du Pharaon, Lacotte, dubbed 'the archeologist of dance', said that he "strived to reconstruct the ballet, true to the style of that era, in the same way that Marius Petipa did". A bow then for his attempt to fill the shoes of the great master, because such loyalty to the past, with its success and its flaws, is not so often found.