THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
Most of today's classical choreographers are more interested in abstract or plotless pieces so Christopher Wheeldon, with his flair for storytelling, is unusual in that he's now produced three full-length narrative ballets for Covent Garden. His first two, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and The Winter's Tale, also resonated strongly at the box office and he's a favourite in London.
For this one he's looked to the Mexican novelist Laura Esquivel and her global best seller from 1989, a novel known for the culinary angle it brought to the 'magic realist' genre. Each of the 12 chapters is introduced by a traditional recipe and it recounts the story of the frustrated love affair between Tita and Pedro, who meet as teenagers but are forbidden to marry by her domineering mother, Mama Elena. The dictat then was that the youngest daughter had to be kept at home. In order to be close to Tita, Pedro then marries her sister Rosaura, but with them all living under the one roof in a remote ranch near the Texan border it all proves a recipe for emotional turmoil. Tita also prepares the family meals and the desire or bitterness she feels is transplanted into the food and absorbed by the people eating them. This magical realist element gives the piece a visual eloquence which lends itself to classical ballet and here Wheeldon has produced a piece which is ambitious in every department – choreography, music and staging.
The burden of the novel's complex multi-generational plot in Act One does rather drag on the choreography and it's not really until into Act 2 that Wheeldon can let loose with some beautiful dance making. He creates detailed pas de deux, interspersed with lusty vivid ensemble work. His movement language is solidly classical, recalling Ashton and McMillan, and represents a wonderful extension of that tradition.
The conductor and musical consultant for the piece is the Mexican, Alondra De La Parra, and she infuses Mexican instrumentation into Joby Talbot's richly percussive score. He's a Wheeldon regular and here he fuses Latin rhythms (tangos, mambos, pasos) and folk music but never slips into pastiche. The fiery pieces are contrasted by achingly tender romantic duos, one of which is set amid a forest of clothes lines, laden with bedsheets, where the lovers grab an illicit moment of passion. The music is always engrossing.
Another Wheeldon regular, 7-time Tony winner Bob Crowley, provides the designs which, while grounded in the period (early 20th century rural Mexico), are distilled to down to a beautifully abstract level. There's an ominous line of sombre black-clad matrons in mantillas quietly knitting away or a gaily coloured troupe of ladies in cloche hats with their men in boaters. Natasha Katz's exquisitely lit desert twilights also recall the vistas of Georgia O'Keefe.
Something of this scale needs stars to propel it and it has found them in the perfect pairing of Marcelino Sambé (Pedro) and Francesca Hayward (Tita) who are both at the top of their game. Their athletic exuberance one minute melds into a sensual tenderness the next and their acting is first rate. Appropriately, in the highly pitched climax, they set a bed on fire.
Laura Morera's pincer-sharp finger pointing helps turn the matriarch Mama Elena into a chilling 'Evil Stepmother' type and in Act 3 into an even more fearsome punk ghost.
The sadness of the central love story is leavened by the scenes featuring the third daughter Gertrudis (Meaghan Grace Hinkis). She's the family rebel who takes a revolutionary as a lover and burns the floor in a series of wonderfully rambunctious tango-like numbers, as if she's Rita Hayworth entrancing a nightclub full of banditos.
This is a piece which will definitely live on and firstly can be seen in cinemas worldwide in early 2023.
