The opportunity afforded me this year
by the double-Prokofiev season of the Houston Ballet has been
terrific. Not only did I have the chance to see Prokofiev’s
Cinderella, fully staged a couple of months ago, but this weekend I
returned to see what is undoubtedly Prokofiev’s most important
ballet: Romeo and Juliet.
For more than 60% of my lifetime, my
experience with ballet has been mostly as a pit musician. I wouldn’t
trade it for anything, though there is always a sense of missing
something when in the confines of the pit. I’ve endured it for
years, craning my neck in rehearsals, and even performances, to get a
fleeting glimpse of the action which might be at the very front of
the stage. Sometimes the great singers would come for the fully
staged opera seasons in San Antonio, ages ago, and a Beverly Sills,
or Donald Gramm, might intentionally come forward on the stage in
order to better connect with the accompanying musicians. Of course,
now and then a musician might actually be assigned a passage to be
played either onstage, or offstage, in the wings of the stage. The
point of this is that working orchestral musicians don’t often get
to enjoy the stagecraft, nor do they get the full experience of a
Rosenkavalier, or Traviata, or Rodeo.
I do have especially fond memories of
the mini-seasons the Joffrey Ballet used to give in San Antonio. On
rare occasions, I would have the opportunity to actually view a
performance from the audience perspective. Copland’s Rodeo required
only 2 horns in the pit, so I got to witness some of the most
American, and athletic, ballet I have ever seen. Same with the
Joffrey’s performance of the bold anti-war classic The Green Table.
But I digress (willingly).
In the case of Prokofiev’s stage
works, I have only played War and Peace in anything resembling
staged. In fact, it was a semi-staged performance, in San Antonio,
conducted by Sarah Caldwell. Yes, I’ve played extended suites from
Cinderella and Romeo and Juliet, but only in orchestral form. That’s
why the recent opportunity to see both of these Prokofiev masterworks
from the public side of the proscenium has been so special. First,
there was Cinderella, in a choreography by the Houston Ballet’s
resident Artistic Director, Stanton Welch. Sources in the orchestra,
from whom I got my prized complimentary tickets, thought the
Cinderella was a bit twisted and quirky. Of course, they hadn’t
actually seen the show; they were relying on comments heard from the
dancers. And maybe they were right, though I thought the quirks were
entertaining and well executed. I came away from the Cinderella
experience quite moved by the power of the art of dance with great
music. I also drove back home to San Antonio with a genuine respect
for the Houston Ballet and its musicians. Brava to my friend Margaret
Ayer for the quarter century she has put into the horn section. She
always told me it was a fine orchestra, and now I knew she was right.
This week, I have been keenly
anticipating the weekend trip to Houston for the Houston Ballet’s
season closing staging of Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet. How would
it compare with Cinderella, still fresh in my memory? Will Romeo and
Juliet truly prove itself the superior work of the two? Will the
orchestra impress me as much as it had on first hearing? And how
would my friend Margaret be feeling about these performances? She had made the difficult decision to step away from the job at the end of
this 2011-2012 season. I knew this couldn’t be easy. Margaret outdid herself with the
tickets she scored for R&J. I got a great seat in the orchestra
section, 6th row from the front. From there I could hear
every detail within the orchestra and, more impressively, I could see
every gesture from the excellent company of principal and company
dancers. One word – WOW!
This was the Ben Stevenson
choreography, dating back to 1987. I say this not as a ballet snob,
for I am no where near, but because of the opinions I hear from
within the Houston company. There are preferences and prejudices in
every direction contrasting the company's work with Mr. Stevenson (he
was Artistic Director from 1976-2003) and his successor, Stanton
Welch. It was interesting for me to see Mr. Welch's Cinderella and
Mr. Stevenson's Romeo and Juliet; I enjoyed both immensely.
Interestingly, they both had little twists and quirks. I loved that
Cinderella was a bit of a tom-boy, and the zombie dance in the
graveyard scene (also in Cinderella) was both funny and twisted.
Regarding Ben Stevenson's Romeo and Juliet, I found it interesting
that he portrayed the Montagues as a much more footloose clan of the
streets, intent on joking and provoking the Capulets,
especially Tybalt, who had little patience for it.
Of course, the real story is the love
between Romeo and Juliet, and that is amplified by the deeply moving
music of Prokofiev. As with his Cinderella score, Prokofiev is an
expert at providing the prescribed solo, duet and ensemble numbers
which are expected in ballet. But in skilled hands, both those of the
composer and the choreographer, these dances are much more than just
filigree or athletics. Also apparent is that these are great fun for
the dancers. And before I get to the emotionally charged performances
by the principals, I must praise the attention to every detail so
impressively realized in Houston. If the audience could pull its
focus away from the center stage event, the viewer would find the
periphery just as entertaining, albeit in a different manner, ranging
from young thieves stealing loaves of bread from the street vendor,
to amorous couples in the implied alleyways.
Venezuelan born Karina Gonzalez danced
Juliet to Ian Casady's Romeo in the matinee performance I witnessed.
Amazingly, Ms. Gonzalez is not among the principals or first soloists
in the roster. She is in the third rank of soloist. This, I suppose,
gives remarkable evidence of the depth of this company, for her
performance was amazing. She played the character exactly right –
as a girl just on the cusp of womanhood. It wasn't so much physical
womanhood as emotional coming of age. And, or course, Prokofiev's
music perfectly underscored that moment of first love. The balcony
scene moved me to tears, as did the final scene at the Capulet's
crypt. There is still no explanation of why art grips us as it does,
why it reaches within our breasts and squeezes our hearts. I'm not
sure there should ever be an explanation. It is best to simply allow
music, dance, painting, theater, literature (the list goes on) to
make us laugh, to make us cry, to overwhelm us emotionally. Every
living soul needs such nurture. It's why we must never allow the
lights to go dark on the arts. This is the food for our souls and we
must continue to cultivate it at every corner.
-James Baker
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