Bolshoi Ballet: Marco Spada

It was the perfect Mother’s Day outing: an afternoon at the ballet. The Bolshoi Ballet, that is, with a new addition to the company’s repertoire, the ‘bandit ballet’ Marco Spada. This was a performance with a difference: it was live – but in Moscow, where the season is currently running.

However, we were at the Dendy Brighton, enjoying one of just two screenings of the film. This is part of the unique experience offered in Australia by Sharmill Films, with their series including, as well as the Bolshoi Ballet, Met Opera (from New York) and Britain’s National Theatre.

Performances are captured live, in high definition, and shown as soon as possible in selected cinemas all round the world, taking account of the time differences. With just one or two screenings at each venue in Australia (usually on the same days) there’s a sense of exclusivity about being in the audience.

Adding to the sense of ‘being there’, the films generally have a presenter who is with the audience at the theatre, a camera that captures them before and after the film and through the interviews at interval. The ballet Marco Spada was introduced, impressively, in rapid-fire Russian, French and English, with the latter two languages also used to introduce scenes and for a bi-lingual interview with principal dancer American David Hallberg.

As the outlaw Marco Spada, Hallberg was deservedly the star of what was a spectacular ballet. Not only could he leap and lift with the best of them, he brought a distinct (and even complex) personality and look to the role, a distinct achievement in what could otherwise have been a set piece – albeit a spectacular one. And it was spectacular – the Bolshoi Theatre accommodated sets that evoked grand Russian palaces and the countryside beyond. The original music by Daniel Auber and the 1857 choreography by Joseph Mazilier stood up well, seamlessly matching the new choreography, sets and costumes by Pierre Lacotte (2013).

While the men’s costumes reflected either the dashing or dastardly occupations of the wearers, the women’s were simply lovely. At the risk of muddling cultures, I’d have to describe the pretty dresses as being in a range of gelato colours: icy green, pale blue, pink and cream – with the court ladies’ shiny grey gowns a stylish contrast. Without a cast list, this would seem the moment to acknowledge the fine dancing of three women in particular: the young bride, Hallberg’s daughter and the princess.

Borrowing from the distributor’s description, the action ranged from ‘scenes of pantomime, devilish intrigue, rejected suitors, kidnapping heroines, rebellion, and lovers misunderstandings.’ What more can I say? Only that, at three hours, this was long, even for classical ballet but the time flew. The audience at the Bolshoi Theatre was filmed applauding rapturously, and we were happy to join in.