Those who believe that ballet today is often no more than a grotesque physical display ought to have seen American Ballet Theatre’s performance of Jardin aux Lilas last week.
Those who believe that ballet today is often no more than a grotesque physical display ought to have seen American Ballet Theatre’s performance of Jardin aux Lilas last week. Antony Tudor’s economical, though demanding choreography does not allow any melodramatic explosion of technical bravura. It is a text made of subtly conceived shadings — in which stillness, basic steps and long-held poses speak louder than jumps, triple turns or supported acrobatics. Gestures, though frequently small and contained, play a significant role, too: hands clasped in a slow ascending/descending motion highlight vicious contempt and/or gossip, while a hand horizontally ‘cutting’ across the heart, speaks volumes about the sorrow of a lover who has for ever lost his beloved.
Created in 1936, Jardin — also known as Lilac Garden — is considered the quintessential choreographic equivalent of a late-Edwardian drama.
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