Do not leave your sense of humor at home when you head to Houston Ballet's bodacious new Cinderella. Even with your eyes closed — which is not recommended — you'd know there was something funny going on with Stanton Welch's version, created in 1997 for The Australian Ballet. The audience chuckles continuously.
Welch is so confident of this response, he's choreographed a moment when the corps de ballet issues a big, bossy "Sssshhhh." Which of course gets another laugh.
This offsets the sinister undercurrent. Welch ditches the sugary, Charles Perault-inspired treatment Houston audiences know from Ben Stevenson's traditional Cinderella (which pays homage to Frederick Ashton's standard 1948 version).
His jumping-off point is the much darker Grimm Brothers' Ash Girl. Forget that fairy godmother and pumpkins. In one of the best scenes, Cinderella's mother, risen from the dead, orders her corps of ghosts to weave a ballgown from spiderwebs.
Welch also incorporates Dandini, the Prince's valet, from Rossini's opera La Cenerentola; and Buttons, Cinderella's faithful companion-servant, from English pantomime. Throw in a little Tim Burton, a little Thriller-era Michael Jackson and a little Cirque du Soleil, and you begin to get the picture.
In spite of the Houston Ballet orchestra's nimble rendering, some of this made me think, "Is this really Serge Prokofiev's score?" I'm not complaining; it's entertaining to hear the music from a fresh perspective.
Welch's Cinderella is a cartoon, although where it matters most — in lush pas de deux sections — the romantic emotion is sincere. There are also some Welch trademarks — notably, the sexually aggressive, near-naked dancers of Act 3. (Bulls and some quasi-Indian-harem princesses.)
I love the surreal elements and the late Kristian Fredrikson's sumptuous costumes: statues and mannequins that move; tattered ghosts; carnival characters with balloons, and a winged unicorn wagon.
I'm not sure I buy the notion that Welch's pixie-haired, scrappy Cinderella harbors any ambition to land a prince. Her first impulse when she's upset is to throw a punch. But she's ultimately lovable.
Amy Fote, a little dynamo of exuberant sweetness, danced Thursday's opening with such Leslie Caron-ish charm, I wanted to pinch her on the cheeks. She was rapturous in the two big pas de deux with Ian Casady, her endearingly geeky true love, Dandini.
Welch offers some wicked class commentary: Everyone from the cheerful, spoiled egomaniac of a Prince (Connor Walsh has a blast in this role) on down the social ladder is better than someone else. The haughty, gossipy and slightly debauched court are buffoons; but the message is more cutting, and subtle, when Dandini fails to notice Cinderella after she's lost her finery; or when Cinderella, even in her patched britches, brushes off Buttons.
Welch fills the stage with swiftly moving bits full of dazzling jetés and spins. (Waltz, what waltz?) He doesn't miss a beat, literally: When percussion instruments or violins punctuate the score, there's always an emphatic gesture to match: A hip circle, wide and low. A pelvic thrust or two or three. A shoulder shimmy. A clawed, grabby hand. A head tic. Make that lots of head tics. These shenanigans, while fun, sometimes distract from simultaneous, more straightforward choreography. The final pas de deux is thrillingly romantic, especially after the empty stage fills with a starlit sky.
The sets begin sumptuously. Act 1's graveyard is the yummiest, a dreamlike cave dripping in softly-lit moss. Act 2's flat peacock-themed curtains aptly reflect the shallow court personalities. We're expected to let our imaginations take over in Act 3, much of which is danced in a black void and begins with a militaristic scene that reveals the Prince as a despot.
Thursday's performances were lively and crisp. Oliver Halkowich (Grizabella) and Steven Woodgate (Florinda) danced gamely en pointe (pique turns and arabesques, even!) as the stepsisters; James Gotesky's domineering Stepmother commanded the stage. Ilya Kozadayev was a warm, loveable and high-flying Buttons. Barbara Bears was an elegant Mother, and Christopher Coomer was a tender, vulnerable Dad.
Melody Herrera, Mireille Hassenboehler and Bears will dance the lead on other nights, with Walsh, Simon Ball and Coomer also alternating as Dandini.
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