NINA WITH ABT AT THE MET OPERA HOUSE, NYC, MAY 8 to JUNE 3, 2000

Last summer, Clement Crisp, on reviewing her performance in Don Quixote in London, opined that we were seeing this dancer in the "high summer of her art." And this viewer, as well, thought she couldn’t possibly dance better. But Nina has proved that at thirty-seven, she has not reached the limits of her art---that she continues to strive and succeed in her quest for perfection.

It all started at the opening gala (May 8), where her Dying Swan was a highlight of the rather subdued evening. Nina has danced this piece for many years--and it was also her contribution to the gala last season, but she seems to enrich each performance with nuances and touches that make her interpretation more breathtakingly beautiful and touching. This time I particularly noticed a refinement in the way she splayed her fingers at certain moments, vividly suggesting the tips of swan wings, which her incomparably supple arms mimicked. Her final, dying shudder sent shivers down my spine.

Though not scheduled for her first Don Quixote until May 17, Nina and her partner, Julio Bocca, also danced on May 13 evening, because Susan Jaffe was nursing an injury. In the event, the two Don Q’s displayed Nina in top form; her jumps, spins and balances, underlined by her buoyant characterization of Kitri, whipped audiences to near frenzy. Julio, also displaying good form and formidable stamina matched her in panache and spirits. (On May 17, Guillaume Graffin played Gamache with wit and aplomb. It seems he has given up the danseur noble roles---a sad loss. He played a gallant prince to many a ballerina.) If made to choose, would say the second performance was perhaps a tad more ebullient than the first---but so it often is with these dancers.

But how is one to describe the magical Swan Lake that followed (May 20). Kevin McKenzie’s fairly straightforward staging, on Zack Brown’s sets, provided a linear, visually satisfying background. A prologue dramatizes how Rothbart captures and transforms Princess Odette into a swan. In published interviews, McKenzie stated that he wanted to place more emphasis on Prince Siegfried’s side of the story; on how he is torn between his love for Odette and his duty to marry a suitable aristocrat. However, this objective did not really come off well, despite a few changes, most notably an interpolated solo for the Prince (Bocca) in the middle of the Act II Lakeside scene. The music chosen for this, reportedly from a deleted number from Act III, is jarringly at odds with the mood of the scene; the choreography, presumably expressing the Prince’s love and joy at finding Odette, is not particularly distinguished. The other McKenzie innovation is to have two dancers representing different guises of Rothbart; one a monster complete with rams’ horns (Brian Reeder) and the other a suave courtier who charms all the ladies at the ball (Maxim Belotserkovsky).

The costumes, also by Brown, were lovely, but those for the courtiers looked fussy--- the ladies encumbered with layers of crinoline that interfered with body lines. The extra elaborate sleeves on some of the male costumes seemed to overwhelm those of slight build. However, the swans themselves were in the customary short tutus, cunningly cut to resemble feathers, and their jeweled headresses sported handsomely streamlined plumes.

Act I proceeded normally--showing a carefree Prince until the Queen Mother arrives with her gift of a hunting bow and an admonition to choose a bride. A slow solo for the Prince---danced with "frozen" courtiers in the background---signified the growing isolation of the future king.

The magic started with Nina’s entrance in Act II. One could feel at once that this was to be an outstanding experience. Odette/Odile was Nina’s first major role, and she has long been recognized as one of the foremost interpreters of the part. She has grown in it through the years, but in this performance, technique, grace, power and the proverbial "truth in beauty" came together, erasing every other Odette/Odile from my memory (pace Makarova, Plisetskaya, etc. fans.) In every step, every gesture, every glance, in the beauty of her lines and the nobility of her bearing, she embodied the Swan Queen. Without once veering from the purity of the classical vocabulary, she projected Odette’s initial terror and vulnerability, then her growing trust and hope in Siegfried. These later feelings were eloquently expressed in a heartstopping sequence in the adagio pas de deux, when from a supported turn, she slowly and seamlessly bent her back into the Prince’s waiting arm.

In the third act, her Odile enters with the elegant Rothbart in a wreath of smoke---then exits almost immediately with Siegfried, leaving Rothbart to seduce the court. Belotserkovsky (who with his wife and most frequent partner, Irina Dvorovenko have just been promoted to principals) was at his best here--- his presence and timing giving weight to his gestures as he mesmerized the Queen Mother and all the candidate princesses. (This scene is perhaps the most felicitous of McKenzie’s additions to Swan Lake.) On their return, Nina and Julio commenced their brilliant Black Swan pas de deux. Nina was the epitome of self-confident glamor, sure of her power to conquer the Prince. Here her attack and her lines were razor sharp but never overdone---she was never just a temptress but a proud aristocrat who happened to be irresistibly attractive. She seemed to overwhelm Siegfried with her impeccable technique, accentuating her usual rapid fouettés by raising one arm to suggest a bird in flight. The Prince’s betrayal of Odette was never in doubt.

By eliminating the intermission between third and last acts, McKenzie heightened the drama. Swans flurried about in obvious distress as Siegfried came in search of Odette. She is not hidden among her flock, but instead enters and pauses on a rocky ledge. Her reconciliation with Siegfried is cut short by the monster Rothbart. Odette runs off to fling herself into the lake, followed shortly by the repentant Prince. The end of Rothbart seems rather ambiguous in this production---he sort of just weakens and falls down to one side as the swans hail the reunited lovers, framed in a "rising sun," a design gimmick that should probably be rethought. But who wants to quibble with a performance like this one.

Yes, the corps was not at its best, but then again McKenzie has them scurrying to and fro so much that lines were hard to keep straight. The soloists were in good form-- with the trio of Gillian Murphy, Michele Wiles and Marcelo Gomes giving much pleasure and evidence of their growing talents. But it was Nina who dominated the ballet---an awesome artist who pierced the core of Swan Lake’s mystery and tragedy in a performance for the ages.

Hardly had Nina turned herself into a swan when she had to transform into a sylph. Her abbreviated season with ABT included two La Sylphide, both with Corella as James (May 23 and 25). The first was preceded by Graham’s Diversion of Angels, well executed by Murphy, Ashley Tuttle, Yan Chen, Belotserkovsky and Joaquin De Luz; the second by an indifferently danced Jardin aux Lilas. Nina has, of course, trained with the Royal Danish Ballet in Bournonville style, and this was obvious in her delicately nuanced portrayal of the flirty Sylphide. Changing styles in so short a time must be difficult, but Nina seems to thrive on challenge. Her sylph was a creature of the air---her jumps seeming effortless and executed with no perceptible preparation, as the style demands. (But then Nina’s seamless legato is a trademark of all her dancing.) Her strong background in mime and her guileless role-playing broke one’s heart at the ballet’s tragic end. Corella reveled in his jumps--but Bournonville is tough to master and he has a way to go to deliver this type of jumps with the seeming ease and the quickness dictated by the style.