Three one-act ballets showcase timeless energy in Milan despite program flow issues
by Alessandro BIZZOTTO
Conceived as a tribute to the two towering figures of American dance, this mixed programme actually celebrates dance itself, underscoring how both George Balanchine and Jerome Robbins shaped ballet, not only in the United States but beyond.
Closing La Scala Theatre’s 2023/2024 ballet season, the Balanchine/Robbins triptych combines various twentieth-century styles, aiming to highlight their modernity and relevance to audiences of all generations.
Surprisingly, the most dazzling and enduring piece – which remains infused with a contemporary sensibility that can be renewed with every performance – is the one that appears the most classical: Balanchine’s true masterpiece, Theme and Variations. Choreographed to the final movement of Tchaikovsky’s Suite No. 3 in G major, it modernises the classical tradition of late 19th-century Imperial Russian ballet, emphasising both musicality and speed, with a grand and celebratory tone.
A perfect blend of artistry and excitement; a choreographic cocktail that never goes out of style. It feels as though the music itself is sculpting the dancers. The brilliance of Theme and Variations lies not only in its technical mastery but in its ability to capture a unique essence of joy – where precision meets a sense of freedom, and tradition is elevated to exhilarating new heights. It is unfortunate that such a gem opens the programme rather than closing it, as its thrills are ideally saved for a triumphant finale.
As the leading couple, Nicoletta Manni and Timofej Andrijashenko can celebrate a successful debut.
Manni commands the technical difficulties with ease – she exudes confidence, though at times her charm appears self-assured in a conventional manner, lacking the spark of true creativity. She follows the music without becoming swept away, in line with Balanchine’s intention for the movements and choreography to speak for themselves, rather than requiring emotional expression from the dancers. In this regard, Manni’s approach may be the most faithful to the choreographer’s vision. However, she seldom displays true moments of thrill, preferring exactitude over vitality.
Alice Mariani in Dances at a Gathering © Brescia-Amisano
Nicoletta Manni, Asia Matteazzi and Claudio Coviello in Dances at a Gathering © Brescia-Amisano
Her execution, however, remains consistently exquisite, showcasing her physical peak as well as her growing versatility as a ballerina and remarkable fluidity.
Andrijashenko moves through his variations with lavish buoyancy, striking an ideal balance between technical precision, charismatic detachment, and inspired authority.
Surprisingly, his dancing has something refreshingly natural. Undaunted by the technical complexities of Balanchine’s choreography, he dances with clarity and purpose. Yet Andrijashenko also maintains an ease in his delivery that prevents his execution from ever looking or feeling mechanical.
Jerome Robbins‘ Dances at a Gathering is the second piece of the evening. This lyrical celebration of human connection, set to Chopin’s lush piano scores which incorporate some of his most famous mazurkas and waltzes, weaves together intricate choreography and intimate gestures, creating a vivid portrait of joy and camaraderie, but also of fleeting emotions.
The ballet might have served the program better if it had been placed at the beginning of the evening. While its charm lies in the delicate portrayal of relationships and an appealingly layered choreography, one can’t help but wonder if its 60-minute duration occasionally stretches the viewer’s attention midway through the program. Furthermore, the lighting strangely fails to support the performance as effectively as it could. Rather than enhancing the atmosphere, it often leaves the stage feeling somewhat dim, causing a strain on the eyes that detracts from the overall experience. The subtle interplay of light and shadow, which could deepen the emotional depth of the performance, instead feels underwhelming and contributes to a sense of visual discomfort.
Some moments feel prolonged, while others linger, tinged with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and romance, almost fading into a dusky, nostalgic palette. But, at the end of the day, entrusted for the first time to La Scala’s new generation of dancers, Dances at a Gathering still captivates the audience with its emotional undertones and its seamless flow of moments.
Nicoletta Manni, Martina Arduino and Asia Matteazzi in Dances at a Gathering © Brescia-Amisano
Timofej Andrijashenko in Dances at a Gathering © Brescia-Amisano
As the pink girl, Nicoletta Manni captures Robbins’ spirit and intentions with a freedom and pensiveness, free from the triumphalism she sometimes brings to her classical roles. She appears to have found one of her most fitting roles in this character, who embodies lightness, freshness, and a graceful vitality.
Martina Arduino perfectly embodies the quiet, almost elusive elegance of the mauve girl. Her performance exudes a delicate strength, carrying a subtle sense of introspection, often marked by a serene fluidity that lends her an air of mystery.
Alice Mariani radiates effervescent energy as the yellow girl, with a presence that almost provides a lively contrast to some of the more introspective portrayals around her.
Young Asia Matteazzi displays poised elegance as the blue girl, her movements often defined by a refined restraint that allows the other dancers to shine. Yet, with her calm intensity, she never fades into the background.
Timofej Andrijashenko clearly stands out among the male section of the cast in the role of the purple boy. There is a subtle romantic quality to this character, and his gestures often evoke a sense of longing passion. Fully understanding the purple boy’s role as an introspective and poetic figure, Andrijashenko anchors the ensemble with a compelling presence that lingers long after the final notes.
Claudio Coviello approaches the role of the brown boy with a light ease. While his technique is nearly always secure, there are moments when the depth of his connection seems to ebb, occasionally contrasting with the introspective quality the role demands. Nevertheless, it’s interesting how his interpretation leans into the choreography’s lighter spirit.
Italian pianist Leonardo Pierdomenico brings Chopin’s compositions to life with exceptional nuance and precision.
1956’s The Concert closes the bill. Conceived by Jerome Robbins as a witty exploration of human nature’s whims, set against the backdrop of a piano recital, it blends humour with keen characterizations. Through sharp gestures and playful choreography, Robbins attempts to convey the tension between the elegance of a concert hall and the absurdity of its audience’s behaviour.
However, at the end of a mixed program designed to inspire and create a dream-like atmosphere, its chaotic tone creates too stark a contrast, and at times, some dancers struggle to evoke genuine humour, leaning more towards excess than playfulness.
Christian Fagetti amplifies his movements infusing the husband’s character with a hilarious exaggeration and clearly relishing the performance.
In contrast, Agnese Di Clemente brings a delicate charm to the role of the ballerina, perhaps still falling slightly short of the star qualities and magnetic allure needed to elevate the character and truly make it irresistible.
Alessandra Vassallo brings a spark of fiery determination to the role of the angry lady, injecting the character with a compelling, no-nonsense energy.
