Return of the sylph
Amal Choucri Catta exalts in diaphanous tutus
La Sylphide, Royal Danish Ballet, choreographer August Bournonville, music by Hermann Severin Lovenskiold, staged by Nikolaj Huebbe; Cairo Symphony Orchestra, cond. Ernst Lassen. Main Hall, Cairo Opera House, 15 to 17 January, 8pm
La Sylphide is no stranger to the Main Hall of Cairo's Opera House, where it was presented for three consecutive nights, from 25 to 27 October, 1988, by the London Festival Ballet, with the opening performance attended by Her Royal Highness the late Princess Margaret. The performance came as part of the opening festivities of Cairo's new Opera House, which was inaugurated on 10 October 1988, and was also intended to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the establishment of the British Council's office in Egypt.
And then La Sylphide disappeared from sight only to reappear, almost two decades later, in a production by the Royal Danish Ballet that played three nights at the Opera House. Once again the ballet was an event.
August Bournonville, the Danish creator of this La Sylphide, had his own vision of the show that was originally produced in Paris in 1832 by Jean-Madeleine Schneitzhoeffer after it was created by Filippo Taglioni for his daughter Marie. Money being scarce, Bournonville asked Baron Hermann Severin Lovenskiold to compose the music for his version of La Sylphide, a ballet that has captivated audiences worldwide. And the audience in Cairo appeared more than appreciative of Nikolaj Huebbe's excellent direction, Michael Melbye's sets and Peter Ernst Lassen's conducting of the Cairo Symphony.
Following the passionate musical prelude the curtain opened on the spacious hall of a Scottish residence with James, the young Scottish farmer, dozing in an armchair beside the fire. His kilt was of the same autumnal colours of the rest of the set. A solitary light hovered around the slumbering young man, that of the Sylphide, a daintily winged, ethereal creature in a long white tutu with white flowers in her hair. Her dance was full of charm. As she kissed James on the forehead, his confusion amused her and she continued drifting back and forth sur pointes, tempting and tantalising him. Each time he tried to catch her he failed.
He was to be married that same day to his sweetheart Effy. As she appeared on the scene with her friends, the Sylphide vanished up the chimney while the maids, the servants, the young farmers and their friends were preparing for the wedding, decorating the hall, lighting the candles, bringing in gifts and whirling a Scottish reel in their kilts. Merriment prevailed, though as the bride was thanking her friends the groom was trying to chase away the Sylphide.
In the meantime Madge, the old witch, having slipped unnoticed into the hall, was warming her old bones by the fire. When James saw her he wanted to throw her out, but the others would not hear of it, and she was even permitted to drink brandy while telling each one his fortune. She was a breathtaking performer in her colourless rags and disshelved hair. At this point mime had already taken over: Madge predicted some incredibly heavy stuff, such as the wedding of Gurn, James's rival, to Effy. Furious, James finally succeeded in chasing Madge out of the house as she cursed him, swearing revenge.
When the bride had left the hall to dress for the wedding, leaving James alone, the Sylphide showed herself in the window, telling him of her love in dance and mime: she was the one who protected him when he was hunting in the forest, had constantly watched over him and was sure she could make him happy. Bewildered, James hid her in the armchair when the wedding festivities began and he joined Gurn in dancing the two male solos while the corps-de- ballet performed a Scottish reel. As the dance continued, the Sylphide suddenly showed herself and James disappeared.
Desolate, Effy wanted to search for him in the woods but her friends would not let her go. As the curtain fell the audience cheered, though perhaps there was some disappointment at the excessive use of mime.
The second act opened behind a transparent curtain. Night had fallen in the forest and, as the shadows grew more portentous, four witches, led by Madge, began boiling a diaphanous shawl in a cauldron. They were dancing to a melody that had turned menacing but, as the transparent curtain lifted, the witches disappeared, the sky turned pink and James was dancing in a lovely glade with his Sylphide. She brought him berries and water and tried to cheer him up while calling on her sisters. The forest filled with Sylphides performing ethereal dances in their diaphanous Tutus as James joined them in the grand divertissement. The corps-de-ballet gave Cairene audiences one of the most graceful ballet-sur-pointes performances the Main Hall has witnessed in years. Finally, Madge found James and gave him the shawl for the Sylphide. Thinking the witch had forgiven him, he took it joyfully. But when he put it around the young girl's shoulders her wings fell off and she died. As she was carried through the air by her sisters, Effy and Gurn's wedding procession passed through the glade, leaving James with bitter-sweet memories as he fell, lifeless, to the ground. Madge exulted. Evil had triumphed.
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