Dance Review by Reed Johnson

EARTHINESS, PASSION FUEL "QUIXOTE"

There’s nothing like the blood and thunder of Spanish folk dance to take the chill out of classical ballet. Icy technical perfection is fine as far as it goes. Crisply executed pirouettes can mesmerize the soul.

But the passionate gypsy and flamenco currents that pulsate through the Bolshoi Ballet’s new production of Don Quixote bring an earthiness and comic vigor to the ballet...

Sheer unthinking pleasure is all that will be required of you as you watch the Bolshoi’s spectacular soloists, the astonishing Nina Ananiashvili foremost among them.

Making its first appearance at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in more than a decade, the legendary Russian company is performing the popular three-act ballet based on parts of Cervantes’ episodic novel about a deluded old knight, with Ludwig Minkus’ somersaulting score. The Bolshoi refers to the production as a "new choreographic version" by Alexei Fadeechev, based on the enduring designs of Marius Petipa and Aleksandr Gorsky. The new version builds momentum by skillfully balancing its classical and gypsified elements. There is a colorful vernacular of tambourine slapping, fan twirling and castanet clicking. Lines of dashing toreadors flourish capes, while a woman minces en pointe through a maze of upended knives...

Ananiashvili, beautiful and indefatigable, exemplifies both tendencies as Kitri, the innkeeper’s daughter whose love for the barber Basil (Andrei Uvarov), against the wishes of her father, arouses Don Quixote’s chivalrous instincts... She is an engaging presence, conveying the pluck and enthusiasm of a young girl. Her rapid-fire sequence of fouettes, turns on one leg, brought the expected roars from the balcony, but it was her spirit as well as her technique that won us over.

Her elongated partner, Uvarov, with his scything, black-tighted legs, demonstrated strength and grace in his solos and his one-armed hoists of Ananiashvili.

Gaunt Andrei Sitnikov, gallantly mistaking Kitri for the beloved Dulcinea of his medieval fantasies, makes the most of the mimed title role. His eyes locked in a dreamy gaze, he wanders through Barcelona squares, moonlit taverns, a windmill-lined gypsy encampment and a fairy-haunted forest, all beautifully designed by Sergei Barkhin.

Playing his faithful servant Sancho Panza, Alexander Petukhov has a charming Chaplinesque comic grace: he beams with delight at his master’s triumphs and his legs always seem to be two steps behind his chubby trunk.

By its third act, Don Quixote pretty much drops any pretensions of story telling in favor of one stunning duo or solo after another: a Spanish dance, a gypsy dance, a bolero.