Boy gets girl. Girl gets new shoes. Sweet.
But perhaps even sweeter than new shoes Friday night was the whole cast of Madison Ballet’s spring production, “Cinderella,” fluttering in unison, in a performance proving the Overture Center’s new resident ballet company even more radiant and promising than ever.
For the first-time “Cinderella”-goer, the Prokofiev score may not have been as melodically impressive as expected (Who can ever tell with brilliant composers? Some of us can listen to “Peter and the Wolf” all day.), but the Madison Symphony Orchestra’s rendition was, as always, flawless — and, to parents’ relief, demonstrated the power to quiet crying children at just the right moments. Then again, what crying child could resist lush, romantic-length cotton-candy-pink tutus, either?
Performances were technically sound all around, and not even a lapse in stage personality could be found, but the best-of-show awards on the performance go to Cinderella’s evil stepsisters (Madison native Pihra Pizzingrilli and Spooner, Wis., native Gretchen Benson) and Ashman, Max King, the youngest male dancer with a solo part. Making their grand, stomping entrances in bright, garish red and lime-green tutus, bravely shrinking not once from breaking ballet’s graceful designs with shameful temper tantrums and fall-down, drag-out, hair-pulling catfight episodes, these two were the comic heart of the show. There’s nothing better than watching Prince Charming confusedly look on as evil stepsister ballerinas flail around in a heap at his feet and fling their pointe shoes across the stage with abandon. There will be great things to say about the company’s blooming talent if these two members are at all representative.
With regard to King’s solo at the ball as Ashman, it’s all too easy at often sappy, fairy-tale ballets to fix the eyes on the pointed shoes and notice the men in tights only when they contribute their arm to a beautiful partner shape, or perhaps their body as the ballerina’s leaning post, but King’s virtuosity (especially at a relatively young age) was dazzling. He never tired to reach the full lofty pinnacle of his jeté, executed turns with the confidence of a professional and maintained excellent character interpretation. Smith’s choreography hit King’s talents right on the mark.
The ball-preparation finale, in which Cinderella’s (Genevieve Custer) adoring admirers exchanged her rags for riches and constructed her an enormous, carriage-sized pumpkin with wheels, stole the show before Cinderella even got a chance to flaunt her new garb at the ball. After giving food to an old lady (a.k.a., the Fairy Godmother) in a gesture to prove her compassionate character, Cinderella was, without ado, relocated by her Fairy Godmother to a softly breathing forest alive with plump little bees, pudgy caterpillars, round ladybugs and gracious mushrooms who lovingly crowned Cinderella’s ball costume with a sparkling tulle shawl. The orchestra picked up a lively rhythm and the stage alighted with action, shimmering with leaps in celebration. Butterflies danced solos in Cinderella’s honor, and tiny forest friends rushed excitedly about her rose-adorned gown until the timekeepers arrived to warn her of the midnight deadline.
The prince (David Bier), appearing first at the ball with Cinderella’s foppish, crude stepsisters tripping over themselves for his attention, is dashing in white. In moments of inspired staging, the dancers in the front dance-hall scene freeze as the lights dim and the spotlight focuses on the two love-struck newlymets — Cinderella, high above on the staircase balcony, and Prince Charming across the hall, downstage left. Their eyes lock. All else is lost in indifferent darkness as they drift toward each other, and, clasping hands, get ready to make their dance teachers proud.
Smith’s choreography has evolved since last spring’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream” — it is fuller, more spacious. His neoclassical style is especially Madison-appropriate (but a community of progressives could hardly tolerate a resident company preoccupied with bland reenactments of the old Petipa scores), though there were a few spots I would have nixed the eight counts of hopping with flexed feet. From Cinderella’s languorous, leggy broom-dance sequence of developpés galore to the Fairy Godmother’s patient, articulate steps and a girl more interested in playing her bell-adorned hat than trying on the prince’s glass slipper, Smith showcased his versatility and creative humor.
Smith’s ability to somehow seamlessly, and even majestically, merge onto a single stage the dramatically varied technical-skill levels (and heights, for that matter) of dancers ages 4 to 20-something was amazing in “Midsummer Night’s,” and equally amazing in “Cinderella.” Children dance with a sincerity that is refreshing against ballet’s carefully pre-arranged, precise steps. Though seasoned New York City Ballet-goers would balk at the tiny, busy limbs and skittering feet, the little guys get a wonderful performance experience and provide encouragement to the tutu-clad, sparkly magic wand-wielding children in the audience who take intermission for an opportunity to twirl. Well, certain college students also took intermission for an opportunity to twirl.
While the staging and dancers’ impeccable characterizations never failed to please, more technical variety and less left side-right side repetition in the choreography will perfect Smith’s future repertory work. And though the reuniting hugs and kisses between the lead couple were surprisingly chilly — especially considering they had partnered before — and the conclusion was not as much of a raucous finale as Smith was surely capable of stirring up, “Cinderella” itself proved an excellent finale to Madison Ballet’s premiere season at the Overture. Hopefully an upgrade to two-weekend performances to introduce its lovely work to bigger audiences will be in store for Madison Ballet’s upcoming seasons
