Metropolitan Classical Ballet New & Reviews

Ballet a journey through emotions
Metropolitan Classical's pieces express joys and pains of romance
11:39 PM CDT on Tuesday, October 12, 2004

By MARGARET PUTNAM / Special Contributor to The Dallas Morning News

FORT WORTH - Metropolitan Classical Ballet's "Romantic Evening of Ballet" lived up to its title Monday night at Bass Hall. The joyous D Minor Sonata gave way to the angst of Edith Piaf, and then to the free-wheeling spirit of Who Cares?

Paul Mejia's D Minor Sonata, set to the music of Camille Saint-Saëns, opened in silence on a dim stage. When pianist Lowell Liebermann, sitting at one end and violinist Eric Grossman standing next to him, began to play, Marina Goshko walked in, reached the violinist and bowed, like a party guest with the musicians the hosts. Her moment was sharp and bright, with crisp footwork and a more languid upper body. She spun in a wide circle before spinning out of sight.

The second guest (Maria Kudyakova) arrived, repeating some of the steps. A pas de deux (Ms. Goshko and Andre Prikhodko) followed, with gentle weaving of arms and body, and ending with a triumphant lift.

As the music changed from joy to passion, so did the dance, without losing any of its clarity. Ms. Kudyakova made a spectacular leap in a diagonal across stage, shooting out between the two lovers. Calm returns, the three bow, and the party ends.

How different in mood was Eddy Toussaint's Edith Piaf, established immediately by the brooding red background, the tight group of figures clad from head to toe in black, and the recorded voice of Piaf singing both defiantly and imploringly.

Based on the life of the singer, the ballet sweeps from her birth in the streets of Paris though her encounter with her first lover, Louis Dupont; the real love of her life, the boxer who died in a plane crash, Marcel Cerdan; and finally, the French Canadian singer and composer Claude Lévellée.

The images are striking and surreal, exaggerated with a pathos suited to a Greek tragedy. The six black figures added to the mystery, serving as a Greek chorus that surrounded the main characters, carrying aloft first Piaf and later Cerdan on a bier, or joining in a dance. As Edith Piaf, Olga Pavlova was reckless and defiant, Yevgeni Anfinogenov as Louis Dupont, self-assured; Mr. Prikhodko was resigned as Claude Lévellée, and Alexander Vetrov, as Marcel Cerdan, was brooding.

Although George Balanchine's Who Cares? is generally a surefire favorite, this time it fizzled. It did not help to have musicians perched at the back of the stage (and a tiny crew at that), complicating the otherwise glittering skyline of Manhattan. Except for Ms. Pavlova and Mr. Vetrov in the glorious "The Man I Love," not much else offered the perilous, go-for-broke swivels, slides and jazzy freedom that Who Cares? cries out for.