ASHTON BALLET CELEBRATION : JOFFREY PROFFERS ‘WEDDING BOUQUET’

Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas went to London in 1937 for the final rehearsals of a strange new nuptial ballet at the Vic Wells.

“A Wedding Bouquet” involved witty, sometimes parodistic depictions, in word, music and movement, of entangled misalliances and frisky foibles at a French provincial wedding--a wedding at which the guests happened to dance with a distinctly British accent.

It used quaint music by Gerald Berners, a marvelously eccentric dilletante who found his inspiration, no doubt, in Stravinsky’s “Noces” and Walton’s “Facade.”

It introduced choreography by young Frederick Ashton--he certainly wasn’t Sir Frederick then--that attempted terpsichorean translations of evasive Stein verses, mostly from “They Must. Be Wedded. To Their Wife.”

“We met Fred Ashton,” reported the inimitably saintly Gertrude. “I am always asking Alice Toklas do you think he is a genius, she does have something happen when he is a genius so I always ask her is he a genius, being one it is natural that I should think a great deal about that thing in any other one. He and I talked a great deal on meeting, and I think he is one. . . .”

Yes. He probably is one. The Joffrey Ballet certainly made him look like one Wednesday night at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, where the ever-enterprising company celebrated Ashton’s 80th birthday with enlightened attention to four characteristic Ashton vehicles.

The evening began, as has many a Joffrey evening, with the polite pyrotechnics of “Les Patineurs” (1937). Mark Goldweber once again led the pseudoskaters with delirious panache.

Next came “Illuminations” (1950), Ashton’s haunting evocation of the florid decadence of Rimbaud’s verbal ennui. Jennifer Tipton’s sensitive lighting went awry on this occasion, but there was emphatic compensation in the stylish dancing and miming of the entire ensemble, in the tortured eloquence of Luis Perez as the Poet and in the sensitive elegance of Benjamin Britten’s score as sung by Grayson Hirst and conducted by Allan Lewis.

The revival of “Monotones II” (1965), which followed, served as a reminder of Ashton’s prowess as in the realm of kinetic abstraction. This seamlessly intertwining network of arabesques and attitudes explores the classical vocabulary in terms of the sensuality implicit in Satie’s “Gymnopedies” (orchestrated by Debussy and Roland Manuel).

Joffrey’s protagonists--Glenn Edgerton, Patricia Miller and Tom Mossbrucker--did not always perform in perfectly fluid synchronization, and Miller’s hyperextension sometimes jarred the unison line. Still, the muted, otherworldly poignance of this unique pas de trois was appreciatively suggested.

Then came the piece de resistance: the first Los Angeles performance of the Joffrey version of “A Wedding Bouquet.”

This quirky work may look a bit arch and dated to the jaded eyes of 1985, but its daring period whimsy still exerts a special fascination. At first glance, the surrealist action and sometimes broad comedy seem to be the prime motivation of the ballet. At second glance, one can glean a subtle ode to formal ballet ritual, some of it knowingly distorted, some of it flashing with satirical brilliance.

The pas de deux for the chronically wistful bride and the terminally rakish groom invokes “The Sleeping Beauty.” When the wedding party assembles for a commemorative photo, a dog portrayed by a baby ballerina rushes on and strikes a variation of the reclining pose we all know from “Les Sylphides.” When the groom gets to dance his would-be noble variation, it turns out to be a sardonically suave Fred Astaire tango.

And so it goes. Deliriously. The crowd executes courtly waltzes in slight disarray while one guest gets delightfully drunk and another goes picturesquely mad. All this happens, moreover, in neat conjunction with the Sprechgesang of a dapper narrator who sips champagne at a stage-left table in the replica of Lord Berners’ picture-postcard set. The original version, incidentally, used a chorus, but the revision for solo recitation enhances textual comprehension.

The Joffrey revival, lovingly staged by Christopher Newton, is a model of brio and bravado. Luis Perez strikes just the right note of nasty charm as the bridegroom, a role created and long owned by Robert Helpmann. Wide-eyed Dawn Caccamo oozes modesty with a capital M as the bride.

Beatriz Rodriguez brings fine Goreyesque pathos to the agonies of the forlorn Julia, a challenge first met by Margot Fonteyn. Charlene Gehm exudes tipsy talent as the scandalous Josephine. Carole Valleskey presides over the proceedings with proper Valois valor as a housekeeper called Webster. Tina LeBlanc is pretty as the dog, Pepe.

Grayson Hirst’s English may be a bit too American for maximum comfort. Nevertheless, he serves both Stein and Berners with relish.

The remarkable composer, co-mastermind and designer of “A Wedding Bouquet,” incidentally, wrote his own epitaph.

Here lies Lord Berners

One of the learners

His great love of learning

May earn him a burning

But praise to the Lord

He seldom was bored.

The graceful words could serve, just as well, as a credo for his collaboration with Frederick Ashton.