Amarcord
Carmen
La Scala Ballet
Lincoln Center Festival
New York State Theater
July 19, 2001

When I went to see La Scala Ballet perform at the Lincoln Center Festival, I was distressed to discover there was a casting change for Carmen. One always fears it will be an understudy with inadequate rehearsal time. Instead of seeing the illustrious Allesandra Ferri and Laurent Hilaire, however, it was to be Viviana Durante and Massimo Murru. Viviana Durante– who could complain? And while I had not yet heard of Mr. Murru, his performance in Luciano Cannito’s Amarcord, the first piece on the program, reassured all who didn't know him that his Don José, in the Carmen which was to follow, would be great.

If you like the films of Federico Fellini, you will probably like Amarcord. If you don't, you might still like Amarcord. There are some striking things about it, from the multitude of life-sized dolls that line the backdrop and wings to Luciano Cannito's skillful use of sharp movements to convey the fear-inducing power of military authority run rampant.

The heroine, Gradisca (a heartfelt portrayal by Sabrina Brazzo), is a strong woman, and fiercely sexual though not to the same degree as the character of Carmen who would follow. Twice in this ballet, Gradisca dated powerful men, would provoke them, and then secretly delight when they became forceful with her. Well, it was like this with the first man anyway, but with the second (a German officer played by Murru) things got a little out of hand. The program notes warn us he's a "degenerate", but it doesn't quite prepare one for the fact that he'll be wearing a woman's undergarment and will become violently abusive. At the end of this duet, several in the audience shouted "bravo", so I guess one could tell where their interests lay. Seriously, however, Brazzo and Murru both turned in such vivid, frightening performances of this bizarre encounter that most of us were still too shocked to join our more vocal brethren.

There is a lot of humor in this ballet as well: some of it will leave you grinning for entire scenes and some will elicit outright laughter. Although this tale only relates what are plausibly life events, it tells of them from within a surreal haze.

As much as I liked Amarcord, I thought Carmen was a stronger piece. It's the work of Roland Petit, an established master, after all. The program makes note of how he edited the music and storyline. Some are critical of chopping up other people's work, but the end result has the power to justify any such doings. Petit's Carmen is a potent distillation; it presents the salient events in a succinct and theatrically-engaging fashion. John Butler's Othello and Johan Renvall's adaptation of Romeo and Juliet are the only other instances where I've seen stories condensed so successfully.

I often hear observers of dance note that modern dancers are more expressive in the torso whereas ballet dancers tend to hold the torso more rigidly. I would argue that ballet dancers know how to hold their placement, but this doesn't mean they lack mobility. Case in point: Viviana Durante's solo in the bedroom scene– now there was a sinuous torso! But she brought the role to life with more than just that. Durante's command of her technique and grasp of the character made her Carmen not just sexy but also strong, confident in her ability to attract and seduce.

Massimo Murru was charismatic as Don José, almost vampirical in his regal stalking about. As much as I had hoped to see Laurent Hilaire, whose performances I have enjoyed in the past, I was equally happy to discover a talent I had not yet seen. Murru has a fine technique, acts well, and seems to be a solid partner. It's our loss here in the U.S. that we don't see more of such European talent.

Also deserving special mention are Vitterio D'Amato, Beatrice Carbone, and Gianluca Schiavo who played the three bandits. Their performances were stellar and it's not often that the leads are so nicely complemented by the supporting characters.

The last time a ballet truly astonished me was when I saw Preljocaj's Le Parc led by Laurent Hilaire and Isabelle Guerin. As I sat amid the bravos of Durante and Murru's curtain calls, it sank in that I was again in the presence of greatness.