Premiere of this production: 14 December 2017, Bolshoi theatre, Moscow, Russia
Presented with two intervals.
With the use of decor
sketches by Pyotr Lambin (Acts I and III) and Heinrich Levot (Act II) and
costume sketches by Adolph Charlemagne, Pyotr Grigoriev and Yevgeny
Ponomaryov. Sets reproduced by Yevgeny Yakimenko and Anton Danilov (Acts I
and III), Yelena Kinkulskaya (Act II)
Archive Researches and
Coordination: Pavel Gershenzon
Choreography has been restored using
notations from the Harvard Theatre Collection. Set and costume sketches have
been made available by the St. Petersburg State Museum of Theatre and Music Arts
and the St. Petersburg State Theatre Library. The score has been made
available by the publishing house EDWIN F. KALMUS.
Coppelia, one of the
most popular titles in the world ballet repertoire, is to return to the Bolshoi
Ballet billboards.
In addition to excellent dances, this classical ballet has
two other undoubted merits. First, Coppelia is a comedy of which there are not
so many among the masterpieces of the classical legacy. Second, it is a comedy
with fine music. Pyotr Ilych Tchaikovsky's assessment of Delibes' skill in "the
sphere of ballet" is well-known: "The first ballet in which music constitutes
not only the main, but the sole interest. What beauty, what elegance, what
richness of melody, rhythm and harmony". True, these words refer to another of
the composer's ballets, but they are equally applicable to Coppelia. It is not
fortuitous that music from this ballet is played at concerts: for instance, just
before the forthcoming Bolshoi Theatre premiere, the State Orchestra of Russia
played excerpts from Coppelia at the Big Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire.
Funnily enough, the main theme of this light-hearted ballet, is taken from
E.T.A. Hoffman's anything but joyful novellas - mainly from The Sandman. With
Hoffman, the youth's infatuation with the doll ends tragically, while in the
ballet - the youth marries the lively and energetic Swanhilda who proved capable
of outwitting the cunning creator of the wax doll - Coppelia, the latter coming
close to causing a break-up between the two sweethearts.
Coppelia was
premiered in 1870 at the Paris Opera (The National Academy of Music and Dance).
It was choreographed by Arthur Saint-Leon, the choreographer who had
relinquished his post as head of the Petersburg Ballet to Marius Petipa.
Saint-Leon was also a virtuoso dancer, expert on dance folklore, composer and
violinist. It was his interest in folk dance that was responsible for the
appearance in the music score of such a rich 'selection' of dance melodies based
on folklore. Coppelia is considered to be one of the first ballets to contain
Slav motifs.
In the 14 years between its Paris premiere and Petipa's own
production of the ballet at the Petersburg Bolshoi Theatre, Coppelia was
presented in Brussels, at Moscow's Bolshoi Theatre and in London. Before the end
of the 19th century, it was also staged in New York, Milan, Copenhagen, Munich
and once more in Petersburg, this time at the Mariynsky Theatre. There were more
productions in the 20th century, including ultra modern interpretations when
sometimes even its comic element was dropped. The second (1894) Petersburg
version of Coppelia (choreographed by Marius Petipa and staged by the Italian
teacher and ballet master, Enrico Cecchetti, who was working at the time in
Petersburg), was revived at the Bolshoi Theatre by ballet scholar Pavel
Gershenzon and Sergei Vikharev, famous Mariynsky Theatre principal dancer and
ballet master-restorer.
In 2001, the premire of their reconstructed
Coppelia was held at Novosibirsk Theatre of Opera and Ballet. The production
made such an impact on audiences that the following year it won a Golden Mask,
the National theatre prize. In 2008, another Vikharev reconstruction (Le Reveil
du Flore; Mariynsky Theatre) won a Golden Mask, with Vikharev winning the
nomination for best choreographer. Vikharev's name is again on the list for
possible winners of this year's Golden Mask, as is his reconstruction of the
ballet Le Carnaval which, incidentally, recently had its Moscow premiere at the
Bolshoi Theatre's New Stage.
Dancing the main roles in of Coppelia at the
Bolshoi will be Maria Alexsandrova, Natalia Osipova, Anastasia Goryacheva
(Swanilda) and Ruslan Skvortsov, Vyacheslav Lopatin and Artem Ovcharenko
(Franz). The decor was revived by Boris Kaminsky, with costumes revived by
Tatiana Noginova. Conductor is Igor Dronov.
Synopsis
Act I A public Square in a small town, on the borders
of Galicia, with wooden houses painted with bright colors. One house stands out
in contrast to the others, with grating before the windows and the door securely
fastened. This is the residence of Coppelius.
Swanilda is approaching the
house of Coppelius, raises her eyes to a large window, behind which Coppelia,
the daughter of old Coppelius, is seen, sitting with a book in her hands
apparently absorbed in her reading. Every morning she is seen at the same window
and in the same attitude, and then disappears. She never goes out from this
mysterious residence. She appears to be pretty, and many young men in the town
have passed long hours beneath her window, beseeching for one
look.
Swanilda suspects that her fiance, Frantz, is not indifferent to
the beauty of Coppelia. She tries to attract her attention, but Coppelia has her
eyes always fixed on her book, of which she does not even turn the
leaves.
Swanilda cannot contain her feelings of anger. She starts to
knock at the door, but she perceives Frantz approaching, and remains in hiding
to see what he is going to do.
Frantz, who at first was going toward
Swanilda house, suddenly stops. Coppelia is at the window. He bows to her. At
the same time she turns her head and appears to return Frantz's salute. Frantz
has scarcely time to throw a kiss to Coppelia before old Coppelius has opened
his window, and seems to be amused at what has been going on.
Swanilda is
furious against Coppelius and against Frantz. However, she remains quiet and
pretends to have seen nothing. She runs after a butterfly. Frantz runs with her,
and catching it, pins it in the collar of his coat. Swanilda reproaches him for
his cruelty: "What has this poor insect done to you?" After many reproaches, the
young maid brings herself to tell him, that she knows all. He has deceived her.
He loves Coppelia. Frantz tries in vain to defend himself.
The
Burgomaster announces that on the next day a grand fete will take place - the
Lord of the manor has given a bell to the Town. They crowd round the
Burgomaster. The noise is being made in Coppelius' house. Odd looking lights are
shining at the windows. Some of the girls shrink with fear from this mysterious
abode. But it is nothing but the clash of the hammer on the anvil, and the light
is the reflection from the forge. Coppelius is an old fool who is always
working. At what? No one knows and who cares? He must be left alone and not be
stopped from amusing himself. The Burgomaster approaches Swanilda. He tells her
that tomorrow the lord of the manor will give a dowry and marriage to several
couples. She is betrothed to Frantz; shall they not be united to-morrow? Ah! but
there is time yet, and the young girl looking spitefully at Frantz, tells the
Burgomaster that she will tell him a story. It is the story of a straw which
reveals all secrets.
Swanilda takes the straw from a bundle, and placing
it to her ear, pretends to listen; then she tells Frantz to listen also. Does it
not tell him that he does not love Swanilda? Frantz answers that he hears
nothing. Swanilda tries it with one of Frantz's friends, who pretends to hear
very distinctly what the straw says. Frantz tries to protest, but Swanilda
breaking the straw before his eyes, tells him that everything is broken between
them. Frantz goes away, while Swanilda dances in the midst of her companions.
Glasses are placed on the tables, and they drink the health of the lord of the
manor and the Burgomaster.
Coppelius leaves his house and securely
fastens the door. He has not gone many steps, before he is surrounded by a crowd
of young fellows; some of whom want to take him away with them, while the others
want to make him dance. The old man goes off swearing.
Swanilda is
bidding adieu to her friends, when one of them sees a key, which Coppelius must
have dropped. The girls suggest to Swanilda to visit the mysterious house. At
first Swanilda hesitates, but she wants to meet this rival. "Well, then, let us
enter, " she says. The girls enter the house of Coppelius.
Frantz is seen
coming up, carrying a ladder. He has determined to see what chance he has with
Coppйlia. The opportunity is most favorable and Coppelius is far off! But it is
not so, for just as Frantz is steadying the ladder against the balcony, he sees
Coppelius returning and looking for the lost key. He sees Frantz just about to
climb the ladder. Frantz runs away.
Act II A large room is full of
all kinds of instruments and tools. There are several automata on pedestals.
There are figures of an old man, dressed in Persian costume, a Negro in
threatening attitude, a little Moorish cymbal-player, a Chinaman with a tympanon
before him.
The girls cautiously enter Coppelius' house. Who are those
people standing still in the dark shadows? They are face to face with the
strange figures which a moment before had so frightened them. Swanilda draws
aside the heavy curtains. There she sees Coppelia seated with her book in her
hand. Swanilda salutes the strange girl who remains motionless. She speaks to
her, but gets no answer. She touches the young girl's arm and then starts back
through fear. Can it be a living creature? She puts her hand to the heart, but
it does not beat. This young lady is an automaton, and the handy-work of
Coppelius! Swanilda doesn't worry herself any more about her rival, but looks
forward to the fun of telling Frantz all about her discovery. The girls run
laughing, around the studio. They have nothing to fear now.
One of them
in passing by the Tympanon player, touches it by accident. It begins playing a
tune. The girls are at first bewildered, but soon begin dancing. They then find
the spring, which sets the little Moorish figure in motion.
Suddenly
Coppelius returns in a furious rage. He draws together the curtains which
conceal Coppelia; stops the automata and runs after the girls. They slip through
his hands and disappear down the back stairs. Swanilda is hiding behind the
curtains. She is caught! but no; crouching in a corner she remains unseen when
Coppelius looks behind the curtain. He examines Coppelia and finds that no harm
has been done. He breathes more freely.
But what is that noise? He sees
the top of a ladder in the window and then Frantz appears. Coppelius does not
show himself. Frantz is going toward the spot where he has seen Coppelia, when
two stout hands seize him. Frantz nearly dead with fright, implores Coppelius to
forgive him. He tries to escape, but the old man holds him tightly. "What are
you up to here?" he asks. Frantz confesses that he is in love. "I am not so bad
as people say. Sit down and let us take a drink together and have a chat, "
answers Coppelius. He gets an old flagon of wine and two goblets. He takes a sip
with Frantz, and then, when Frantz is not looking, he throws away the
wine.
Frantz finds that the wine has a peculiar taste. He tosses it down,
however, and Coppelius makes him drink more and more. Frantz tries to get near
the window where he has seen Coppelia. But his legs give way, he falls heavily
on the bench and is asleep.
Coppelius gets a magic book and studies its
pages. Then he rolls the pedestal which holds Coppelia, bringing it nearer to
sleeping Frantz. Placing his hands over the heart and forehead of the young man,
he tries to take away his soul to give life to the young girl. Coppelia rises
up, she begins her mechanical motions but then she descends the first step of
the pedestal and then the second. She walks! She lives!
Coppelius is
almost beside himself with joy. His work has surpassed all that human hand has
ever created! She soon begins to dance slowly, and than all at once darts off so
quickly that Coppelius can scarcely follow her. She smiles; a color comes to her
cheeks and she is full of life!
She sees the vial and places it to her
lips. Coppelius is just in time to snatch the flagon from her hands. She
perceives the magic book and asks Coppelius what it means. "There are
impenetrable secrets, " he answers, and closes the book. She examines the
automata. "I have made them all, " Coppelius says. She stops in front of Frantz.
"And that one?" she asks. "It is like the rest, " he answers. She sees a dagger
and pricks her own finger with the point of it and then amuses herself by
thrusting it at the little Moor. Coppelius roars with laughter… but she
approaches Frantz… The old man stops her and she turns against him and chases
him around the studio. At last he disarms her. He throws a cloak over her
shoulders, and it seems to awaken in her a world of new ideas. She dances a
Spanish dance. Then she finds a Scotch scarf-pin and taking it in her hands, she
dances a jig. She jumps and runs around, throwing everything within her reach to
the ground and breaking it! She is decidedly too lively! What shall Coppelius
do!
In the midst of all the noise, Frantz wakes up. Coppйlius now seizes
Coppйlia and replacing her by main force on the pedestal, draws the curtains. He
then goes up to Frantz and orders him to leave. "Go along!" he cries, "you are
good for nothing."
Then he stops and listens. Did he not hear the tune
which generally accompanies the movement of the automata? He jumps up and while
he is staring at Coppйlia, who has started her old movements, Swanilda skips out
unobserved from behind the curtain. She sets the other two automata going. "Are
these two also moving by themselves?" Coppйlius exclaims. All at once he sees
Swanilda disappearing with Frantz. He has a vague notion that some game has been
played on him and falls heavily in the midst of the automata which keep moving
as if to mock at their master’s grief and despair.
Act III A lawn in front of the
baronial castle. At the back, the bell, the gift of the lord of the manor, is
hung from poles, decorated with garlands and banners. A car covered with
allegorical designs and on which are grouped the various actors for the fete,
has just stopped in front of the bell.
The priests have pronounced a
benediction over the bell. The betrothed couples who are to be given a dowry,
and are to be united on this festal day go and bow before the baron. Frantz and
Swanilda complete their mutual reconciliation. Frantz has disabused himself of
his temporary infatuation and thinks no more of Coppelia. He knows what a joke
has been played upon him. Swanilda forgives him and giving him her hand,
advances with him before the lord of the manor.
All at once there is a
stir among the crowd. Coppelius comes to implore and even to demand justice;
they have ridiculed him and have broken everything in his house, his
masterpieces made with the greatest labor and patience, have been smashed. Who
is going to pay him? Swanilda, who has just received her dowry, quickly offers
it to Coppelius. But the lord of the manor stops Swanilda. She may keep her
dowry. He throws a purse to him and whilst Coppelius departs with his money, he
gives the signal for the festivities to begin.
The Bell-ringer alights
first from the car. He summons the Morning Hours. They appear, quickly followed
by Aurora. The bell rings! It is the Hour of Prayer. Aurora vanishes, chased by
the Hours of Day. These are the working hours, and the young girls and reapers
begin their work. The bell rings again! It announces a wedding.
Derived
from: Delibes' Ballet of Coppelia. Paris Opera Libretto. Under the Direction of
Mr. Heinrich Conried. The Original Italian, French or German Libretto with a
Correct English Translation. New York : F. Rullman. [1900s]
Sara Kaufman, The Washington Post: Created in
1870, "Coppelia" is the freshest ballet around
It might seem
curious that a bouncy little pixie in a bright apron and a peasant blouse is
ballet’s Wonder Woman, but this is the revelation of “Coppelia,” the comic
ballet that, in a genre full of victims, gives us instead an action hero.”
In the central role of Swanilda, the jealous fiancee who isn’t above
disguise, deception and breaking and entering to win back her boyfriend,
“Coppelia” has had a powerful female figure at its core since its creation in
1870. The wattage soars when Swanilda is danced by Nina Kaptsova, as she was at
Tuesday’s opening of the Bolshoi Ballet’s production at the Kennedy Center.
Kaptsova darts through this physically demanding ballet on a stream of
radiant energy. Her stamina — she rarely leaves the stage during the work’s
three acts — is as impressive as her natural charm, musicality and high spirits.
As she watches her Franz (the endearing Artem Ovcharenko) gaze adoringly at a
mysterious woman seen in the home of Dr. Coppelius, the town’s eccentric
inventor, Kaptsova tells us exactly how she feels with a tart toss of her
shoulder.
This ballet crackles with personality and activity, but there are also
delicate moments of stillness that are unusual to see from this typically
full-throttle company. At times, the corps is sculpted into iconic romantic-era
poses, coquettishly tilted at the waist. A wonderful tableau of suppressed
vitality greets Swanilda when she barges into Coppelius’s workshop to find a
wizard, Pierrot and other life-size dolls whose quietness is especially poignant
next to the ballerina’s pizazz.
This new staging of “Coppelia,” by Sergei Vikharev, premiered in 2009, based
on how Marius Petipa and Enrico Cecchetti retooled the original French version
(by Arthur Saint-Leon) for Russian dancers. Seen here for the first time in this
country, it’s an extraordinary achievement, full of color and life and the
feeling of something newly minted. Everything about it seems fresh, from the
shimmering Delibes score to the dancers’ energy — you want to stomp along with
their mazurka — and the crisp fabrics of the folkloric costumes, inspired by the
festive attire of what was known as Galicia, a region overlapping Poland and
Ukraine.
The folk dances, which are among the highlights of this ballet, take on a
stirring significance at the end, when the villagers form a double ring to
encircle the newly married Swanilda and Franz, spinning around them in a
communal embrace. It’s a thrilling vision of the life force that old Coppelius
searched for in vain, hoping to spark artificially, and which Swanilda possesses
in spades. Here is the eternal dance, whirling everyone into order.
The vibrant colors that fill the Opera House stage echo the theme of freedom
that boils through the ballet. The body was liberated in “Coppelia” as never
before, as ballerinas gained speed and strength in the latter part of the 19th
century. With her light jumps, bright footwork and swift changes of direction,
Kaptsova’s Swanilda is rarely still, and the power and agility of her precise,
tireless legs mark her as a free spirit.
She is no Giselle, undone by rejection. Swanilda ropes her gal pals into
storming Coppelius’s house and confronting her rival. It turns out the
heartbreaker is just a pretty doll, one of many Coppelius has created. In fact,
in a plot twist that reveals “Coppelia’s” kinship with Mary Shelley’s
“Frankenstein,” written several decades earlier, Coppelius attempts to bring the
doll — his child, his Coppelia — to life. For this, he has drugged Franz and
plans to siphon off his spirit. Crafty Swanilda slips into Coppelia’s clothes,
confuses the old man, trashes his workshop, rescues Franz — and wins the
adoration of the entire village.
If Coppelius was searching for the secret of life, Swanilda spelled it out
for him: a woman with brains and a goal