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Felicitous Iconoclasm Vienna
Staatsoper
06/26/2025 - & December 11, 14, 23, 27, 2024, January 3, 5, June 29, 2025
The Sleeping Beauty
Martin Schäpfer (Choreography, after Marius Petipa), Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, Toshio Hosokawa (music)
Hyo-Jun Kang (Aurore), Marcos Menha (Le prince Désiré), Ioanna Avraam (La fée des lilas), Claudine Schoch (Carabosse), Masayu Kimoto (Le roi Florestan), Olga Esina (La reine), Jackson Carroll (Acts I & II)/François-Eloi Lavignac (Le maître de cérémonie Catalabutte), Laura Cislaghi (La chatte blanche), Giorgio Fourés (Le chat botté), Kiyoka Hashimoto (Princesse Florine), Timor Afshar (L’oiseau bleu), Kristián Pokorný (Le faune), Yuko Kao (La femme de la forêt), Ensemble & corps de ballet of Wiener Staatsballett
Orchester der Wiener Staatsoper, Robert Reimer (Conductor)
Florian Etti (Sets), Catherine Voeffray (Costumes), Thomas Diek (Lighting & Videography), Anne do Poço (Dramaturgy)
M. Menha, H.-J. Kang (© Wiener Staatsoper/Ashley Taylor)
The Sleeping Beauty (1890), the second of Tchaikovsky’s three ballets, is less frequently performed than Swan Lake (1877) and The Nutcracker (1892). It’s also the most “French” of the three, as the others take place in Germany and The Nutcracker is based on Nussknacker und Mausekönig (1816), a tale by German writer E.T.A. Hoffmann (1766‑1822).
Prince Ivan Alexandrovitch Vsevolojsky (1835‑1909), Director of the Imperial Theatres and an ardent Francophile, is said to have specifically chosen the story of Sleeping Beauty by Charles Perrault (1628‑1703), itself based on traditional French fairy tales. Other than his love of France, Vsevolojsky had another agenda: to pay homage to King Louis XIV (1638‑1715), “Le Roi Soleil,” most absolute of absolute monarchs, in a period of counter‑reformation by Tsar Alexander III (1845‑1894), who was reversing his predecessor’s liberal reforms. Given this clin d’œil to King Louis XIV, The Sleeping Beauty involves the most luxurious – almost Rococo – sets of the major ballets. The expense of mounting such ornate sets and costumes is the reason for its infrequent performance.
Legendary dancer-choreographer Rudolf Nureyev (1938‑1993) considered The Sleeping Beauty the “ballet of ballets.” After seeking asylum in the West, Nureyev conceived several choreographies of the ballet, first for La Scala in 1966, for Wiener Staatsballett in 1980 and for Paris in 1989, along with choreographies for Toronto, London, Berlin and Helsinki. A couple of months ago, I was fortunate enough to see Nureyev’s Paris production, still preserved by l’Opéra de Paris. Tonight, I expected to see the Vienna variant of that production, a delightful but perhaps repetitive experience. Fortunately, this was not the case; the present production is Wiener Staatsballett’s director Martin Schäpfer’s new choreography. Just days earlier, I’d experienced the marvelous 4, his choreography for Mahler’s Fourth Symphony, so I knew I was in store for a revelation.
Schäpfer’s updating of the fairytale ballet was fascinating. It drew on a recent trend in opera to set each act in a different period, as with Christoph Waltz’s brilliant staging of Der Rosenkavalier for Geneva. The Prologue and first act of Sleeping Beauty is set in a fairy tale kingdom, “once upon a time.” Catherine Voeffrey’s original costumes were appealing; no tutus for the women and no tights on the men. This is a blunt declaration: no matter the setting, ancient or classical, a page has been turned. Schäpfer has helped to create a new artistic vista.
Act II opened with Toshio Hosokawa’s (b.1955) Ferne Landschaft II, a contemporary composition that again set the tone: times have changed in Vienna. This is a work inspired by Asian traditional music centered around the strident sound of a violin, though the instrument shown in the hands of the dancer is a Persian kamancheh or an Indian sitar. We are not in real time but in the realm of dreams, a natural clin d’œil to the subconscious, in the city of Sigmund Freud. Prince Désiré, clad in Victorian, non‑regal clothes, appears to be a commoner drawn into Princess Aurore’s dreams, striving to awaken her. He’s guided through the forest, actual and figurative, by die Waldfrau/la femme de la forêt, or the woman of the forest, a character introduced by Schäpfer, hitherto not part of either Perrault’s fairytale nor Tchaikovsky’s ballet’s story.
An additional character appears, a faun, horned like a demon and dressed as the male swans in Matthew Bourne’s celebrated homosexual take on Swan Lake. He seems to want to distract Désiré from his mission to reach Aurore. This seems like an anti‑misogynist variant of the sorceress/fairy character who distracts the hero from his mission, such as Alcina, Kundry in Parsifal or Venus in Tannhäuser. Eventually, the prince reaches Aurore and awakens her to the delight of the King and the Queen, though the maître de cérémonie Catalabutte seems reluctant to accept the plebeian “prince”.
Act III was further updated to the 1950s. The royal wedding resembled a graduation ceremony, with young courtiers dressed as students. To further accentuate the social progress in Schäpfer’s time machine, some courtiers dance with members of their own gender (mercifully a minority). Contrary to the original plot, with the awakening of Aurore, the evil Carabosse accepts her defeat and is forgiven by the monarchs and by Désiré. The King and Queen abdicate the throne in favour of Aurore and Désiré. Shockingly, they do a final dance with the young couple and then lay on the floor, signifying their death. This is likely a message about generational change and renewal.
The part of Princess Aurore is not as significant as that of Giselle or Odette/Odile in Swan Lake, in part as Aurore is a baby in the Prologue and in deep sleep in much of Act II. Hyo‑Jun Kang was grace personified as Aurore. She managed to enchant from her first appearance. Her chemistry with Marcos Menha, her prince Désiré, was palpable. The two positively dazzled in Act III’s impeccably-executed and graceful pas de deux.
In Nureyev’s choreography, there was abundant comic relief, mostly provided through the character of Catalabutte, the Court’s Master of Ceremonies, who forgot to invite Carabosse, thus causing further rage and malevolence. Though still androgynous in appearance and manner, Catalabutte and his acolytes are no longer overly effeminate nor a source of comic relief.
When Francophile Prince Vsevolojsky had suggested the story to Tchaikovsky and Marius Petipa, he insisted on including various characters from Perrault’s tales: Puss in Boots, Bluebeard, Tom Thumb and Cinderella. In his 1989 choreography for Paris, Nureyev did away with most, save Puss in Boots. Schäpfer’s choreography also eliminates these superfluous characters. This is essential in restoring the fairytale to its true essence.
The most memorable part, one not essential to the plot, was l’Oiseau bleu (the Blue Bird), whose dance in Act III is one of the ballet’s most beloved. There is a famous account by Bronislava Nijinska (1891‑1972) of her brother Vaslav Nijinsky (1890‑1950) managing to have the costume modified to allow him to have freer arm movements, enabling him to jump higher and more freely, giving the illusion of flight. By removing the restricting wing contraption sewn into his costume, he was able to achieve the right balance in his movements, using his arm as well as his leg muscles. With free arms, the balance was achieved and Blue Bird truly took flight.
Schäpfer reinvented the mythical bird. He had neither wings nor blue plumage, but premier danseur Timor Afshar certainly seemed to fly. Afshar was Prince Siegfried in Vienna’s last season’s production of Swan Lake. Indeed, in several secondary roles, there are a number of stars, such as Olga Esina – Odette/Odile in the aforementioned production of Swan Lake – as the Queen or Claudine Schoch as Carabosse.
La Chatte blanche and le Chat botté, Puss in Boots, danced by Laura Cislaghi and Giorgio Fourés, didn’t appear feline, but their graceful moves, unlike the traditional choreography, evoked the playfully intoxicating mischief of cats.
Together with Paris and La Scala, Wiener Staatsballett are custodians of Nureyev’s historic productions of such ballets as Don Quixote, Swan Lake, Nutcracker, La Bayadère and Coppélia. With Swiss choreographer Martin Schäpfer at the helm, one can expect the dance scene in Vienna to rock, as attested by the present production. At the end of the performance, there was a palpable feeling of euphoria, not only amid the young. Surprisingly and unexpectedly, change becomes Vienna.
Ossama el Naggar
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