On pointe quick quick quick with tutu bounce‑—this was the finale piece and predictable crowd pleaser The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude, set to the fast clip of the last movement in Schubert’s Symphony in C major. Any ballet audience regular – from Rome to Rio to Moscow and beyond—knows that any tutu number will always find its fan base in a loudly expressive segment of the ballet audience. This was no exception—bravas and bravos erupted long before the curtain bows. But for any Chicagoan, there was an added reason to feel like this work was a coming home moment. The choreographer of this piece, William Forsythe, is not only American but also one launched by Chicago’s own Joffrey Ballet.
Not unlike many of the other events presented in CAFeBUDAPEST celebration of culture, this performance by the Hungarian National Ballet was less about Hungarian culture per se, but more, perhaps, of a demonstration that Hungarian artists are part of a global arts community continuing the same conversations.
For this writer, it was in fact the opening, Walking Mad, which immediately communicated this world-of-ballet-window, coupled with the joy of watching yet another band of graceful and athletic dancers bringing choreography from other lands to life. In this case it is the work of Swedish choreographer Johan Inger, which has similarly charmed American dance troupes and their audiences as well. (Editor’s Note: Read a review of Alvin Ailey American Dance presenting this same work in Chicago’s Auditorium Theatre here.)
A male dancer emerges from an audience chair to walk onto the stage and lock eyes with a woman—somewhat beleaguered seeming—picking up clothes. We feel that we are spying a story from its middle. Ravel’s Bolero swirls the dancers into movement, where the repetition of melody gaining in volume with each turn conveys that indeed it might have started earlier at a decibel level below perception.
The two become many dancers and a party scene where merriment subsides into what seems like a solitary prison for the sole woman. There is one prop- a wall with doors from which dancers pour in and out, that itself folds in, and is scaled or tumbled, and at several points allows lighting designer Erik Berglund to create shadows that multiply one dancer to two, or two dancers into four. Meanwhile, Inger’s choreography allows us to hear something new in Ravel’s music—more of a menacing tone in the underbelly of the score’s hypermania, which had never quite sounded that way before. The slower music of Arvo Pärt that follows slides us into the final moments where the feeling of being broken and the overwhelming isolation and paralysis of the title’s madness are telegraphed.
It was easy to see that the Hungarian National Ballet dancers had the talent to bring Walking Mad to life on their stage. What a perfect opener!, was the thought.
