Sharp edges of Snow White

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This article was published 29/09/2023 (1060 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

The Royal Winnipeg Ballet takes a deep, dark dive into the uncomfortable truths of the classic Brothers Grimm fairy tale as it launches its 84th season with the Canadian première of Snow White.

The hotly anticipated narrative ballet, choreographed by France’s Angelin Preljocaj, takes its place among the RWB’s gripping canon of contemporary works, that include The Handmaid’s Tale and Going Home Star — Truth and Reconciliation, among many others.

Originally slated for fall 2020 and long on the bucket list of retiring artistic director André Lewis, the 105-minute ballet (no intermission) had its world première in 2008; the local show is staged by Claudia De Smet.

There are no chirpy choruses of “hi ho” here. Unlike Disney’s sanitized 1937 animated film, Preljocaj’s mature version comes with a PG-13 rating. The choreographer reinstates the sharp edges and murky shadows of the Grimms’ archetypal tale, first published in 1812, in which goodness ultimately triumphs over evil.

Kudos to the RWB for its fearless commitment to this ballet, which won’t be everyone’s cup of tea.

Particularly strong is company newbie Taisi Tollasepp (all lead roles alternating) as Snow White. The lithe dancer has already jetéd into the corps de ballet ranks after joining just this season as an apprentice.

Tollasepp crafts a flesh-and-blood heroine, walking a tightrope between Snow White’s girlish innocence and her smouldering sensuality as she falls in love with corps de ballet member Logan Savard’s stately Prince.

Each of their three pas de deux is a showcase for their artistry. In their final duet, we see the now “dead” Snow White, poisoned by the Queen’s deadly apple, flop like a limp ragdoll in his arms; it’s harrowing to see a danseur partnering a lifeless ballerina.

Their steamy second encounter, which begins playfully before ending in a passionate kiss, establishes the romantic relationship that ultimately leads to their marriage.

It’s also no small feat for nearly the entire cast to perform without protective pointe shoes and slippers; it heightens the show’s intimacy as bare skin slaps against the stage floor.

Soloist Jaimi Deleau steals the limelight every time she appears as the vainglorious Queen, deeply resentful of her stepdaughter after her gilded mirror magically reveals that Snow White is “the fairest of them all.”

Garbed in French fashion icon Jean Paul Gaultier’s S&M-influenced thigh-high boots, slinky black gloves and bodysuit, cracking a bullwhip, Deleau transforms from her past portrayals of pristine fairy godmothers into a dominatrix-styled wildcat, evoking the thrashing power and charisma of Sleeping Beauty’s Carabosse.

The last image of her final, flailing solo as she dances to her death in red-hot iron shoes will not soon be forgotten, nor will her savage, blood-chilling duet with Snow White as she shoves the apple down her throat.

Her two faithful felines, the inky black Cats-Gargoiles that paw and claw the hall’s curtain, are brought to delicious life by principal dancer Alanna McAdie and corps de ballet member Julianna Generoux.

One jaw-dropping scene comes as the Seven Monks (morphed from the fairy tale’s original dwarves) clamber out of mining shafts in set designer Thierry Leproust’s 7.5-metre-tall wall.

Suspended by bungee-type wires, the dancers’ tightly synchronized aerial performance, in which they perform acrobatic flips and spins and perilously hang upside down, adds wow factor as well as a welcome counterbalance to the otherwise slow-paced ballet’s weightiness.

There are portions that drag, with several ensemble sections adding little to the narrative. Choreography should propel the action by injecting forward thrust and energy.

Some of these “too much of a good thing” scenes include the Monks’ playful games with Snow White or the Courtisans performing for what feels an eternity for corps member Tymin Keown’s King and his royal daughter at the top of the show.

There is also an overabundance of unison movement, although the choreographer’s nifty contemporary lexicon of angular, gestural movement vocabulary is effectively delineated between characters.

In particular, Snow White, with her gorgeously lyrical, sweeping choreography, is juxtaposed with the Queen’s haughty strikes and sharp attacks, adding further texture and variety.

One visually stunning solo arrives in the form of McAdie’s Deer, killed by the trio of Hunters, who rip out its heart in order to fool the Queen, who has commanded them to bring back Snow White’s. McAdie’s crisply executed, jagged, rhythmic movement, her limbs breaking into staccato, is otherworldly, adding mystery and magic to the evening.

Another is the deeply moving scene in which Snow White’s mother (second soloist Katie Bonnell), who died during childbirth, soars high above the stage to comfort her daughter lying atop a glass coffin.

The score — selected Mahler’s symphonies, interlaced with buzzing electro-acoustic soundscapes created by 79 D — is beautifully performed by the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra, with RWB principal conductor Julian Pellicano displaying his innate understanding of this quintessentially Germanic music and how to sensitively accompany the dancers throughout.

The production also features shadowy lighting by Scott Henderson, based on Patrick Riou’s original design, that often feels like viewing ballet in a cave.

Many arts groups have understandably opted for safer programming choices to lure livestream-weary post-pandemic audiences back into concert halls. This is not one of them.

However, the company’s courage in pushing the centuries-old art form into the 21st century is to be applauded as loudly as the opening night’s standing ovation by the nearly sold-out crowd.

holly.harris@shaw.ca