Online
March 8, 2021
David Mead
For La Gran Partita, Ballet de l’Opéra du Rhin artistic director Bruno Bouché invited Pierre-Emile Lemieux-Venne, Marwik Schmitt, Jesse Lyon, Eureka Fukuoka, Pierre Doncq, Mikhael Kinley-Safronoff and Rubén Julliard, all dancers with the company, to each choreograph to a movement of Mozart’s Serenade K.361 (also known as Serenade No.10) for twelve wind instruments and double-bass. Premiered at the beginning of the 2019-20 season, this recording was filmed recently, especially for streaming.
Relatively little is known about the music. Mozart’s intentions and inspirations are murky, there being a distinct lack of any direct reference to it in his letters. Even the date of composition, long believed to be 1780 or 1781 is now questioned, although we can be certain that the subtitle, Gran Partita, did not come from him.
Still from film
Generously, and perhaps bravely, Bouché also gave the seven choreographers carte blanche. The result all that freedom is a riot of inventiveness; seven largely very different dances that at different times are quirky, thoughtful, enigmatic, graceful and playful. Little links each movement, other than that the dance largely sits very comfortably with the music, played on stage behind the dancers by musicians of the Strasbourg Philharmonic Orchestra.
Pierre-Emile Levieux-Vienne hits the spot immediately with his humorous duet with Marin Delavaux. That they are in a happy relationship is clear, even at the very beginning when the simply sit through the opening Largo, one on a period chair, one on the floor, just gazing. The dance that follows in the Allegro is a delightfully delicious conversation; a joyful game between friends, always playful, often mischievous. Just like Mozart’s music, in fact.
in the third movement of La Gran Partita
Still from film
The second movement sees Cedric Rupp, dressed only in a tight-fitting, skin-coloured pair of shorts, save for one arm in a piece of armour, dance with a sword. There is a vague sense of an old warrior (visions of Don Quixote are inescapable) trying to reconcile man’s innate humanity with also being a warrior, as referenced in choreographer Marwik Schmitt’s programme note that quotes Carlos Castaneda, but it is very introverted and doesn’t convince.
After two contemporary dances, Jesse Lyon’s out-and-out classical choreography for the third movement Adagio comes as a surprise. He, Ana Karina Enriquez Gonzalez and Alice Pernão seem genuinely happy to be in the company of one another. They weave around the stage in a dance full of long lines, gorgeous lingering arabesques, neat turns and some excellent partnering. Having all three dressed in white just adds to the purity.
Still from film
I’ve replayed Eureka Fukuoka’s fourth movement several times. The more I watch it, the more seducing I find it, and the more appealing is Christina Cecchini’s outstanding performance. In her green leotard and grey pants, she animatedly, yet delicately, draws geometric shapes with her hands and arms. Whatever her imaginary drawing is, we never discover because she’s constantly distracted. She pauses, looks quizzically, and disappears behind the semi-transparent curtain that narrows the visible stage before running back as she flips between her real and imaginary world. Truly inviting, it’s one of the highlights of the work.
Pierre Doncq’s duet for the fifth movement has Dongting Xing and Brett Fukuda on pointe in a contemporary take on classical dance. Xing’s fluid upper body and lithe athleticism catches the eye, but the two dancers’ movement rarely connects and it struggles for impact. Would it have been better left as a solo, I wonder.
A sense of fun returns for the closing two movements, both an absolute joy and full of quirky, playful dance that yet again matches the spirit of Mozart’s score perfectly.
in the sixth movement of La Gran Partita
Still from film
The sixth movement, choreographed Mikhael Kinley-Safronoff, first sees him with Monica Barbotte in a sometimes feverish duet that’s full of trembling hands, shivering forearms and scratching of heads. Alongside that are impish moments and images that bring smiles. It has a real sense of a couple playing a game, and I imagine was great fun to make. It loses a little focus when they are joined by Hénoc Waysenson, the men not having quite the same relationship. Even so, delightful moments continue to surprise.
Ruben Julliard’s seventh movement duet closes the work off in a fast-moving, fun way. Oliver Oguma and Ryo Shimizu make a powerful pair, elegant in their black turtleneck sweaters and grey trousers. The dance, dynamic and full of leaps, turns and gestures is fine indeed, but what really makes the section work is the communication, in looks and body language, between the two committed dancers.
With seven choreographers, it’s not surprising that La Gran Partita has its ups and downs, but Bruno Bouché should be congratulated for giving his dancers the opportunity to show their choreographic imagination. This is largely a hugely enjoyable fifty minutes or so of dance. I don’t think it is stretching things too far to imagine Fukuoka’s, Kinley Safronoff’s and Julliard’s choreographies popping up on a gala. I can imagine some might have wished for connections between each movement but it is held together by the music; and, in many ways, the work’s diversity is its strength. At the end, my only wish was that there could have been an eighth movement to bring everyone back for a finale.
Ballet de l’OnR in La Gran Partita is available on YouTube.