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Corybantic Games, to music by Leonard Bernstein, 2018: A Ballet Review

Stepping into the theatre, anticipation thrummed through the air, a tangible buzz as thick as the velvet curtain that separated us from the unknown. The programme promised "a visceral exploration of ritual, madness, and the relentless rhythms of life" set to the vibrant, tumultuous music of Leonard Bernstein. My pulse quickened. This wasn't just another ballet; it promised to be a full-bodied, primal experience.

And indeed it was. The opening scene, bathed in a crimson light that hinted at both passion and violence, set the tone. A frenzied group of dancers, their bodies etched in contorted shapes, pulsed with a raw energy. The movements, inspired by ancient Dionysian rites, were both brutal and beautiful, an intoxicating cocktail of aggression and ecstasy. Bernstein's music, with its insistent rhythms and bursts of soaring melody, underscored the energy perfectly.

The ballet, however, wasn't simply a frenzied spectacle. It was a deeply moving meditation on the human condition, its contradictory impulses and insatiable yearning for something beyond the mundane. There was the powerful, yet fragile, figure of the Priestess, a mesmerizing performance by the brilliant Isolde Dubois, who embodied both the awe-inspiring power of the divine and the vulnerability of a human being caught in a vortex of chaos.

Each dancer, though part of a unified whole, possessed a unique voice, a distinct personality that shone through the choreography. The youthful energy of the young acolytes, the brooding intensity of the Warrior, the yearning grace of the Lovers - each character was vividly portrayed, drawing the audience into their individual struggles.

One of the highlights of the ballet was the duet between the Priestess and the Warrior, a breathtaking dance of surrender and defiance. As they moved across the stage, their bodies intermingling in a tempestuous yet strangely intimate embrace, I held my breath. The tension was palpable, their struggle mirroring the timeless conflict between the divine and the human, between order and chaos, between love and hate.

It wasn't all brooding drama though. There were moments of joyous abandon, where the dancers gave themselves over to pure physical delight. The Bacchanalia, set to the thunderous, jubilant finale of the score, was a dazzling spectacle, a celebration of life in all its messy, contradictory glory. Here, the choreography was more fluid and free-flowing, a whirl of colour and movement that left me breathless.

The Dance:

  • The choreography by Anya Petrova was bold and visceral, a captivating mix of classical and contemporary styles.
  • She had a clear vision for the piece, successfully marrying the ancient rituals of the Corybantes with a modern sensibility, drawing on a vast vocabulary of movement, both balletic and non-balletic.
  • The use of space was masterful. The stage felt dynamic and alive, the dancers constantly pushing the boundaries, engaging the audience from every angle.

The Music:

  • Bernstein’s music is a symphony of emotions: fierce, dramatic, melancholic, joyful, all rolled into one. His score isn't simply background music; it's a driving force behind the narrative, a powerful partner to the dance.
  • It was masterful to see how Petrova seamlessly integrated Bernstein’s composition into her choreography. The timing, the pacing, the way each movement echoed the rise and fall of the score, it was breathtaking.
  • The music of the "Corybantic Games" wasn’t always what you’d expect from a ballet; It wasn't saccharine or graceful, it was gritty, raw, and truly electrifying.

The Dancers:

  • Isolda Dubois’s portrayal of the Priestess was one for the ages. Her physicality was both commanding and delicate, she held an ethereal presence on stage. It felt like the energy around her, a a captivating vortex, was pulsating from her.
  • Every member of the ensemble demonstrated technical proficiency and emotional depth, I especially was moved by the acolytes, who moved as if possessed, and the Warrior, his raw intensity completely believable, yet beautifully controlled.
  • It felt like they all put everything they had into this ballet; the energy they brought, the depth of expression, the undeniable synchronicity; it was a spectacle that truly transcended any one dancer, it was all of them in sync,

Leaving the theatre, the echoes of Bernstein’s music, the image of Dubois’s piercing gaze, and the memory of the powerful ensemble all swirling in my mind, I felt profoundly touched. "Corybantic Games" was not just a ballet; it was a journey. A journey into the heart of humanity, its flaws and its glories. A journey into the depths of passion, fear, and madness, ultimately arriving at a place of profound beauty and hope. It left me shaken, moved, and utterly exhilarated.