Ballets 98

Concertino, to music by Dmitri Shostakovich, 1966: A Ballet That Still Resonates Oh, Shostakovich. What a titan. His music, it wraps around you, it holds you, it makes you think. So, when I first heard that there was a ballet set to his music, I was completely intrigued. But what to expect? Ballet and Shostakovich… what kind of world would we be transported to? Would it be sombre and dramatic, a mirror of his symphonies? Or would it be something lighter, reflecting his playful string quartets? As it turns out, it was both. And so much more. "Concertino" (yes, the title’s a little understated for a work so full of emotion), premiered in 1966. This wasn't your typical tutus-and-tiaras affair. From the very first bars, the ballet's spirit was undeniably modern. You can feel the times in it, the social changes happening around the world, and maybe even a sense of quiet defiance, a theme so common in Shostakovich's work. What I loved most, was that "Concertino" embraced that duality - the light and the dark, the serious and the joyful. This wasn’t just a story of struggle. It was about the dance of life itself, the constant interplay between extremes. The Dance Imagine this: a group of dancers, sleek, powerful. They aren’t telling a story so much as inhabiting a feeling. You’re seeing Shostakovich’s music translated into movement, which is what made it such an exhilarating experience. You’re seeing a tapestry of emotions – moments of exhilarating power, then quiet reflection, bursts of humour mixed with poignant sorrow, and that familiar edge of melancholy that permeates so much of Shostakovich's work. And the choreography? Oh, the choreography! This is where things get really interesting. You’ve got that strong foundation of classical ballet, that precision and poise, the balletic vocabulary everyone understands, but then there’s a fluidity to it, a freedom that feels new and refreshing. There are glimpses of contemporary techniques – the dynamic energy, the sense of unfolding rather than pre-planned. This kind of melding of styles, that’s something I really connect with. You're looking at the evolution of ballet right before your eyes, taking something traditional and breathing fresh air into it. The corps de ballet in particular was stunning – a sea of movement, each dancer a thread in the tapestry Shostakovich wove with his music. The individual soloists? They brought their own flavour to the mix, weaving their stories into the whole, reflecting the music's many moods. And the story? Let’s just say “Concertino” isn’t your typical narrative ballet. It’s not about a prince falling for a princess, or an ill-fated love. No, "Concertino" is a study in human emotion. The piece is essentially a ballet for the mind. There’s no strict plot line, you are invited to your own interpretations as the ballet unfolds. What I see? The longing of a solitary soul. The desperate yearning for connection. The exhilarating joy of human communion. The bittersweet pang of loss. The Dancers Let’s face it, the magic of a ballet lies in the dancers, right? It's not just about the steps – it’s how they express those steps, their commitment, the intensity of their performance. And in "Concertino," I was lucky to experience the sheer brilliance of these dancers: • First, we have the lead duo, two superbly talented artists – they embody a story that doesn’t need words. Their interaction, so nuanced, was captivating. It’s rare to see that kind of synergy between partners – they were simply one. I saw vulnerability, I saw strength, I saw love that went beyond romance. • Then there were those soloists, their movements resonating like poems, and the corps – they felt like an orchestra in motion, a singular being made of many. The corps were the very essence of precision and grace, but also conveyed an incredibly strong emotionality, which again goes back to that theme of unity and connection – something that shines through Shostakovich's music too. Every movement was an expression of the collective soul. • It was truly breathtaking to watch this dance unfold before me – a kaleidoscope of individual brilliance interwoven with a seamless unity. The way each dancer embraced Shostakovich's musical journey, giving life to those emotions...well, it just takes my breath away. The Music Of course, no discussion about “Concertino” would be complete without the heart and soul of the piece – Shostakovich’s music. He's a composer I find myself constantly drawn to. The depth, the raw emotionality in his music is something else – you’re not just listening to music; you're being taken on an emotional journey. Shostakovich composed a score that spanned a spectrum of feeling - moments of breathtaking beauty, passages of electrifying tension, moments of starkness, but always with an underlying current of deep human feeling. He crafted this tapestry of emotion in his 1966 “Concerto for Piano, Trumpet, and Strings,” and I’m not just talking about melodies here. He used textures, dynamics – everything at his disposal to make the audience truly *feel* his music. It’s one thing to create beautiful music, it’s another entirely to make that music speak volumes beyond mere sounds. And Shostakovich did exactly that. It's like you're witnessing an orchestra's conversation – a symphony of feelings poured out onto the stage, translated through those moving bodies. The Enduring Resonance It’s been over half a century since "Concertino" first danced its way onto the stage. Yet, it retains that timeless power, that ability to capture the audience's heart and leave a lasting impression. “Concertino” is not a spectacle; it's a powerful exploration of humanity, the complexities of the human heart and soul, and ultimately, the very act of living. And that’s what truly resonates with me - that this ballet is not merely a work of art, but a journey through the depths of our own existence, told through the universal language of music and dance. Shostakovich’s music in particular resonates because of the inherent humanity that underpins it – a struggle to make sense of the world, a constant search for meaning, for love, for beauty, all against the backdrop of darkness. But "Concertino" doesn’t end on a note of despair. It leaves you with a sense of hope, with the feeling that even in the midst of turmoil, life finds a way, beauty endures, and maybe, just maybe, we're not alone in our search for meaning. It's this depth of emotion, this willingness to confront the darker sides of existence while holding onto a glimmer of hope, that continues to make "Concertino" relevant even today. In a world grappling with uncertainty, this ballet remains a powerful reminder of our shared humanity, and our capacity for both suffering and joy, love and loss. And that's something worth dancing for.