Review of SBRI's "Education Series" performance of Coppelia
When State Ballet of Rhode Island artistic director Herci Marsden steps onto the stage to sum up the three-act tale of Coppelia in slow, terse sentences, a packed house of squirming school children comes to a hush: Swanhilda gets jealous when she sees her fiancé Frantz blowing kisses to a girl in a window (actually a doll named Coppelia), and she calls their wedding off. That night, the boy climbs through the workshop window seeking Coppelia, but instead falls victim to the doll-maker Dr. Coppelius. After realizing Coppelia is a doll, Swanhilda rescues fiancé Frantz from the Doctor, and all is forgiven. They get married.
Like Marsden's introduction, the State Ballet's production is marked by humor and lucidity, taking full advantage of ballet mime, which Marsden also explains during scene changes. Rachel Goroza dances Swanhilda as a frisky and, one suspects, sharp-tongued girl. No jilted wraith, her moves are perky and crisp and she sheds not a tear when the wedding is called off. (Goroza performed Swanhilda this Friday morning performance with Shane Farrell as Frantz. Alternating as Swanhilda, Holly Fusco danced Friday night and Elizabeth Rogers danced Saturday afternoon.)
Often, Frantz is a problematic character, in light of his faithlessness -- on the eve of his wedding no less -- and in the way he and his friends taunt the old doll-maker Dr. Coppelius (William Kilroy). And there have been some really arrogant Frantzes (I'm thinking of one Paris Opera whelp). But Shane Farrell is a winsome, skipping Frantz, especially when we first meet him, lightly gamboling around the stage as a peacock in love. (He alternates the role with Mark Marsden on Friday evening and Javid Moghaddasnia on Saturday afternoon.) This production portrays Frantz' taunting of crotchety Dr. Coppelius as innocent fun -- the youth appears alarmed, reaching out a quick gesture of assistance, when the old man falls to the ground. In addition to youthful playfulness, Farrell dances Frantz with a kind of diffidence, so his approach to the doll Coppelia seems like a shy crush. This ingénue Frantz is easy to forgive, making him and Goroza's Swanhilda a cute, well-matched couple we can root for.
Rachel Goroza and Shane Farrell
Elsewhere, the production employs humor to overrule infidelity in a variety of partnered exchanges. As one dancer finds her man flirting, she leads him around by the ear and jettisons him into the wings with a grand battement kick to the posterior. The saucy interplay between men and women in this ballet often employs kicks, as when Swanhilda angrily kicks her watering can off stage. One takeaway message seems to be don't cross girls – or at least disciplined ballerinas -- with dangerous feet.
Humor in this Coppelia is poured into the goings-on behind turned backs, the hidings, crawlings, and slippings between unsuspecting legs. When bride-to-be Swanhilda (Goroza) observes her true love admiring Coppelia in the window overhead, she stands behind him angrily tapping her foot. When he turns forward, she turns and resumes watering plants. When his back is turned, she shadows him making faces towards the audience. This pattern returns in the second act to even funnier effect. Dr. Coppelius pretends to be a doll when the starry-eyed Frantz enters the doll workshop. As Frantz approaches the doll Coppelia, the Doctor creeps up behind him, but whenever Frantz turns around, the Doctor freezes -- once with his mouth agape -- into another doll pose. This is a very funny sequence.
Drugged by Dr. Coppelius, Frantz soon ends up slumped over a table. Making abracadabra hand gestures the Doctor tries to steal the youth's life force and project it into his doll – who is actually Swanhilda. The doll Swanhilda "comes alive," thus diverting the Doctor and protecting her fiancé from further magic. The Doctor becomes enamored of his presumed powers to give life to a doll (perhaps like some choreographers) and he begins orchestrating Swanhilda/Coppelia's every move.
It's a standout duet in this production. With great beauty, Swanhilda fully articulates the dance steps that the Doctor can only suggest, following behind her, making abbreviated, half-formed gestures like a sleeping animal twitching its legs as it dreams it's running. The remarkable timing and connectedness of the two dancers in this scene make the duet both humorous and fascinating.
Also noteworthy, this SBRI production uses quite a variety of dancers' bodies, be it shape, size or age. And so a village seems like a real family-filled village -- with tiny ring-bearing boys and small, festooned flower girls, and six-year-olds like new company dancer Luke Ang.