The ballet excursion started with a bit of prancing and dancing of our own. Rushing from a slow dinner with even slower service (delicious food though!), we sprinted through tearing wind, across bustling streets, past towering Western-style skyscrapers until we made it to the Astana Opera House located on the Left Bank of the Ishim River. As soon as we took our seats the five minute bell tolled and the lights began to dim. Only then, did the magnitude of the theater set in. Chandeliers hung not only directly above us, they glistened inside the various box seats, layered up the walls like a honeycomb. Blue, red, and white pastels dimmed along with the lights, preparing the stage and her actors for a glow of their own. The beauty was only matched by the Middle Age village setting that was revealed as the curtains climbed into their hiding spot above the stage.
What does it take to present a performance in a city that rivals New York and London in its claims to and aspirations of cultural capital? Giselle (Rus: Жизель), a ballet originally premiering in 19th century Paris, takes a stab at the answer. The ballet is two-faced, romantic and fantastical, split into two drastically different acts. The first act features Giselle, a peasant girl happily living with her overly protective mother. She cares for the family farm, and tends to the animals. She has an innocent charm reminiscent of Buttercup, the most beautiful peasant in the lands, from the Princess Bride. And just like Princess Bride, the fair maiden is in need of love— the most handsome man for the most beautiful lady.
The scene is not only set with story progression. The dancers continue the world- and character-building through their body movements. Each character has their own distinct style governed by their role in the play. Giselle, especially at the start, stays en pointe and leaps across the stage seemingly without purpose. She is lost and conflicted. Looking for a purpose in life, she exists to the audience simply as “beauty.” Until she finds a man; rather until a man finds her. Albrecht, a regional noble, finds love at first sight in Giselle’s village. He disguises himself as a peasant and introduces himself to Giselle. Despite his previous engagement of which Giselle knows nothing about, he convinces her that he is the one. He woos her with his flamboyant leaps, spins, and dips. Giselle reciprocates. Her movements become more purposeful, her smile grows and brightens, and it seems like love. But it begs the question, what really is love based on a lie? Can one truly fall in love with a character or a caricature?
We meet Hans, who believes that he is also in love with Giselle. He knows Albrecht’s true character as an engaged noble and reveals it to Giselle. How genuine is his care for Giselle? Well, Hans, who stands with hands on hips, creating an artificially large presence for his plainly small character, of course has a motive of his own. His presence is two fold, and reveals the real moral question of the story. He reveals Albrecht for committing himself two ways — cheating on his betrothed while clearly in love with Giselle. However, he does so not with his fiancée at heart, but his own interests — to get with the beautiful girl. This is compounded by Hans’s abhorrent character. His movements demonstrate that he is pretentious and thinks so greatly of himself that he is “deserving” of none other than the most beautiful in the land. But he is right to tell Giselle. Giselle, thoroughly confused, falls dead in her lover’s arms. In a beautiful bout of acting and ballet, she convinces the audience of her heartbreak as the curtains close on her life.
As the scene opens for the second act, the entire theater is sure to get the willies from the beautiful, yet strikingly disparate set. The “willies,” is in fact a term that originated from this very ballet. Dead trees crawling with crows and ravens one could only imagine to be lighting up the night with their calls, surrounds an eerily-lit, nighttime cemetery. Fog ebbs and flows across the stage until it waterfalls over the edge of the stage into the orchestra pit. A troupe of ballerinas clad in flowing white dresses that seem just impossible to dance in, prances across stage. As Giselle rises from the dead, through an opening in the floor of the stage, the role of the Wilies, as the ghostly dancers are called, becomes apparent. Though Giselle’s mother doesn’t make an appearance in this act, the Wilies collectively act as her caretaker. They console her from her heartbreak, bringing her soul back to life. The Wilies are just like her — those who died from love-induced misery.
Revenge is a dish best served haunted by ghosts. Giselle and the Wilis bring Albrecht and Hans into the underworld to teach them a lesson in love. The audience is captivated in the lecture on morality, love, betrayal, and retribution. Though abstract, the dancers leave nothing to the imagination, as they make no mistake in determining the fate of the two lovers. It is hard to disagree with their decision.
