|
Back
Swanilda’s Choice Roma
Teatro Nazionale
12/03/2025 - & December 4, 5, 6*, 7, 2025
Léo Delibes: Coppélia
Daniela Creciun (Coppélia), Carmen Lamonaca (Swanilda), Lorenzo Giotti/Alessandro di Lorenzo* (Franz), Alessandro d’Angelo (Dr. Coppélius), Dario Rigatti (Hoffmann), Adriano Reggi (Faun), Alessandro Capparoni (Petrushka), Tommaso Venni (Spectre de la rose), Domenico Clemente (Prince), Camilla Santiago/Zoe Reid* (Kitri), Elena Paduano (Giselle), Rachele Tedoldi/Valentina Ramos Mendoza* (Odette), Allievi della Scuola di Danza del Teatro dell’Opera di Roma
Giorgio Mancini (choreography), Michelle della Coppa (sets), Anna Biagiotti (costumes), Stefano La Selva (lighting)
D. Creciun (© Fabrizio Sansoni/Teatro dell’Opera di Roma)
Delibes’s Coppélia (1870) is a pivotal work of ballet. It was the last great French ballet, though Delibes wrote one other successful ballet, Sylvia (1876). Soon after, the great dancers of Italy and France started flocking to Saint‑Petersburg and Moscow, where they found better pay and conditions. Moreover, with Austrian immigré Ludwig Minkus (1826‑1917) and later Tchaikovsky (1850‑1893) in their midst, there was plenty of ballet creation and performance in Russia.
Some think of Coppélia as jinxed. It premiered in 1870 with Napoleon III and Empress Eugénie in attendance. A few months later, France was badly defeated in the Franco‑Prussian War, which culminated in the end of France’s Second Empire. Moreover, one year exactly after the premiere, the creator of the leading role of Swanilda, Giuseppina Bozzacchi, died at the tender age of seventeen.
As with the tale of Olympia in Offenbach’s Les Contes d’Hoffmann, the ballet is based on Der Sandmann by German poet and author, E.T.A. Hoffmann (1776‑1822), though the doll’s creator in the ballet is definitely more malevolent. Inventor Dr. Coppélius has created a mechanical doll so lifelike that Franz, though betrothed to Swanilda, has fallen in love. Dr. Coppélius hopes to lure the young man to his atelier to use his soul to bring Coppélia to life. The curious Swanilda sneaks into Dr. Coppélius’s dwelling and discovers that Coppélia is but a mechanical doll. The smart girl thwarts the evil inventor’s plan and rescues her fiancé.
This revival of Giorgio Mancini’s choreography of Coppélia is more a seasonal offering for young people. Though innovative, the ballet is cut to almost half its usual duration, lasting just over one hour. The three acts are given without intermission making it accessible to even young children. However, it is to be noted that the majority of the audience was composed of adults and young adults. More disturbing than the cuts was the absence of a live orchestra; the dancers performed to a recording. A good orchestra and an attentive conductor greatly enhance a ballet, as the conductor can adjust the tempo to suit the dancers’s needs.
Though I am no fan of cuts, especially when the music is first‑rate, they were welcome in the rather dull final act, when the heroes have escaped and fatuous celebrations seem never ending.
Mancini has a special affection for Coppélia, as it was the first ballet in which he danced. The dolls in Dr. Coppélius’s workshop are recognizable figures from the world of ballet: Petrushka; Giselle; the satyr from Debussy’s L’Après‑midi d’un faune; Kitri from Don Quixote; Odette from Swan Lake; the Prince from Sleeping Beauty; the spirit of the rose from Le Spectre de la rose. This variation makes the ballet more fascinating for young dancers and may make some think of creation versus creativity, an underlying theme in E.T.A. Hoffmann’s works.
Michele Della Cioppa’s sets and Anna Biagiotti’s costumes are not the typical folkloric fare from the ballet’s setting in Galicia (a territory now divided between Poland and Ukraine). In fact, the stylized sets evoke Venice’s Piazza San Marco with its attractive arcades. The villagers’ costumes are more typical of contemporary ballet students in informal garb for dance classes.
A new character was introduced in this choreography, poet E.T.A. Hoffmann, who acts as a master of ceremonies, leading the characters into this fantasy.
Carmen Lamonaca, the interpreter of Swanilda, was the uncontested star of the show, thanks to her excellent technical mastery and, above all, expressivity. From her first entrance, where she disapprovingly observes her fiancé Franz fawning over the inanimate Coppélia in Dr. Coppélius’s window, it was clear this young woman had character. Her charm persisted throughout the performance. In Act II, she was impressive in her impersonation of Coppélia. Contrary to the usual plot, where Swanilda impersonates Coppélia, whom she’s hiding behind the curtain, Mancini has both Swanilda and Coppélia dance simultaneously. Lamonaca perfectly mirrors Coppélia’s mechanical movements. The reason behind this twist is likely two‑fold: to confuse Dr. Coppélius, and to make it clear to Franz that Coppélia was inanimate and that she (Swanilda) was more than her match.
Alessandro d’Angelo, who interpreted Dr. Coppélius, looked as young, if not younger, than Swanilda and Franz. Traditionally, he’s white‑haired, bespectacled and rather gauche to indicate his age and absent‑minded demeanour. This was intentional, to set up the relaxed atmosphere of Coppélia as a dance exercise among the students. It’s to be noted that the dancers are students at the Scuola del Teatro dell’Opera di Roma.
The performance did indeed display a relaxed atmosphere of an exercise at dance class with the informally dressed performers. During the scene where Swanilda and Coppélia dance together, d’Angelo acted truly confused. This turned to pandemonium when the other dolls, all characters from famous ballets, came to life, thus enabling Swanilda and Franz to abscond.
In Act I, Moldovan Daniela Creciun was an impeccable Coppélia, meticulously repeating the exact same movements, without a trace of emotion. No wonder Swanilda in this choreography was suspicious from the start. Creciun’s technical mastery was impressive, and despite the rigidity of the mechanical doll’s movements, she showed abundant virtuosity.
Alessandro di Lorenzo was a charismatic Franz, expressive, in addition to being technically brilliant. His naïveté was not charming, as it usually is, and this was certainly deliberate, for there is a twist in the plot. After the escape in Act II and the brief celebration in Act III, Franz goes back to admire Coppélia, at which point a furious Swanilda abandons him. A most appropriate end to a romance with a superficial man!
Ossama el Naggar
|
