★★★★★
Akram Khan’s Giselle (“The iconic ballet, reimagined”) is back at Palace Theatre Manchester – where it premiered in 2016, in association with English National Ballet and Sadler’s Wells, as part of Manchester International Festival.
Giselle tells the tragic, romantic story of a beautiful young peasant girl, the title character, and a disguised nobleman, Albrecht, who fall in love – but when his true identity is revealed by his rival, Hilarion, Giselle goes mad and dies of heartbreak (kinda sexist, right?).
After her death, she is summoned from her grave into the vengeful, deadly sisterhood of the Wilis, the ghosts of unmarried women who died after being betrayed by their lovers and take revenge in the night by dancing men to death by exhaustion (again, kinda sexist).
Led by Myrtha, the Queen of the Wilis, they target Albrecht when he comes to mourn at Giselle’s grave, but her great love frees him from their grasp. By saving him from the Wilis, Giselle also saves herself from becoming one of them.
Sexism aside, it is a thrilling story which will have you on the edge of your seat. Akram Khan MBE – a British dancer and choreographer of Bangladeshi descent, whose background is rooted in his classical kathak training and contemporary dance – relocates the story to a factory, with the peasants now migrant workers. A problematic text has been reconfigured, and the story has newfound relevance.
The ballet begins with the workers pressed against a stone wall. They slowly push it back, their handprints marking the wall.
The workers appear helpless and frustrated. Their movements vary radically, from slumping on the floor to leaping across the stage with their arms swinging – the ballet could be renamed gazelle! It’s intense, frantic and dramatic. I could not take my eyes off of the stage.
The arrival of the wealthy figures is especially chilling. The wall slowly flips, on an angle, to reveal them, the workers stood frozen in fear, but our curious heroine moves around ever so slightly.
The wealthy figures are decked out in elaborate finery, contrasting the workers’ rags. They appear sinister, their faces frozen, their shoulders held high. Collectively, they resemble an imperial court. Their attire appears both European and South Asian, perhaps referencing the power and brutality of the elite across regional and ethnic lines.
The migrants entertain the rich folk with dances that reference the work’s traditional choreography.
It is not until the second act that we meet the beautiful but terrifying Wilis, who make the stone-faced aristocrats look like pussycats.
One could offer a feminist interpretation of the Wilis. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” is usually a sexist depiction but, in contemporary society, beaten and broken women avenging themselves and uniting against cruel men resembles “girl power”.
The second act is aesthetically and aurally different. The stage is cloaked in smoke, the lighting is dim, and the music and dancing are slower. The grey wall now sits on its side, only a few feet above the actors’ heads. It might represent a separation of the two worlds. Indeed, when Giselle saves Albrecht, she and Myrtha float underneath the wall, which closes in on them, leaving Albrecht trapped in the human world. He presses against the wall but the “portal” is now closed.
Whilst the second act is subtler, the action is no less gripping than the frantic first act.
Vincenzo Limagna’s adaptation of Adolphe Adam’s iconic score is absolutely spectacular. There are electronic elements, perhaps referencing the industrial themes of Khan’s adaptation.
There are also insertions of classical Indian music which blend in so well with classical European music that they will go completely unnoticed by a lot of people – unless, like me, you are South Asian.
The dancing is similarly dual: there are brief insertions of kathak, which Khan’s dancing is rooted in, but one could be forgiven for just thinking that those movements are contemporary ballet.
Some of my friends were oblivious to the subtle South Asian insertions but, upon being told about them, they recognised them.
The delicate handling of the South Asian elements, and the creatives’ determination not to make their reimagining of the iconic French Ballet a straightforward South Asian adaptation, deserve great praise.
The cast, of course, changes every performance, as is a convention of ballet. On press night, the company was led by the terrific Erina Takahashi, an angelic and devastating heroine. Albrecht was played to excellence by James Streeter, whose masculine physique and movements had me mesmerised. Ken Saruhashi was striking as Hilarion, Fabian Reimar was a fabulous “Landlord”, Emma Hawes was tantalisingly terrifying as Myrtha, and Rebecca Blenkinsop dazzled as the icy Bathilde.
The most striking sequences are the ensemble-led numbers, from the desperate workers firing across the stage to the terrifying Wilis circling and entrapping their victims, accompanied by some of the most majestic music heard in contemporary ballet.
Akram Khan’s Giselle is as much an aural feast as it is a visual one, with a rewritten story which is relevant to today.
Akram Khan’s Giselle runs at Palace Theatre Manchester until October 21, before transferring to Bristol Hippodrome from October 26 to 28 – currently the second and final UK date. It runs at The Israeli Opera in Tel Aviv, Israel from May 7 to 11.
Photo: © Laurent Liotardo
JADAR 