Mounting a good production of Don Quixote ought to be one of the simplest challenges in the repertory. The chirpy story line, in which a pair of wayward Spanish lovers are aided and abetted by the dear dithery Don, could not be more basic. And as an added bonus the ballet is stuffed to the wings with dance opportunities - sunny fiesta numbers adorned with tambourines and matador cloaks and classical variations that bristle with all the most gregarious stunts in the vocabulary.
However, the two stagings attempted by the Royal Ballet have been critical flops - and while it is widely assumed that the Russians can always be relied on to dance a loveable Don Q, the version currently performed by the Moscow Stanislavsky Ballet proves otherwise. Decently danced and played, it is, however, a charmless bore.
Part of the problem is that producer Alexei Tchitchinadze has edited out most of the (already minimal) drama. Having junked the prologue, in which Sancho Panza and the Don embark on their crazed chivalric mission, he has no way of setting the tone for the rest of the ballet's nonsense. In all the following scenes he pushes the stage business to the absolute sidelines, where the cast are required to show little interest in each other beyond the occasional lifted wine tumbler or self-consciously Latin smirk.
Theoretically, the ballet still has its indefatigably bright steps and costumes to rely on but even devoted fans would not claim that its choreography (Gorsky's rewrite of the original Petipa) is first rate. Too often a formulaic shuffling of faux Spanish swagger and classical dazzle, the glare from the stage can be relentless.
Great performers will, of course, find wit and shade in the choreography. But while the lovers, Natalia Krapivina and Georgy Smilevski, are both admirably strong, clean dancers, they are defeated by the task. Neither they, nor their diligent supporting cast appear to be having any fun at all from this long-winded blank of a production.
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