BALLET REVIEW : Dance Theatre of Harlem Revives Fokine’s ‘Prince Igor’

Exactly 80 years and two weeks ago, the Diaghilev Ballets Russes first danced in Western Europe, causing a sensation and reinvigorating a corrupted art. On that historic opening night in Paris, it was a Tartar divertissement from a Borodin opera that put Russian ballet on the international map and created the mystique about Russian dancers that prevails today.

Known as both “Prince Igor” and “Polovtsian Dances,” the ballet depended so much on taking the audience by storm that it is now virtually impossible to revive with any suggestion of its original impact. Dance Theatre of Harlem made a heroic attempt on its three-part program Tuesday at Pasadena Civic Auditorium, even replacing the 1909 scenery and costumes with a more contemporary vision of barbaric splendor by Carl Michel.

But our threshold of shock has risen way beyond Mikhail Fokine’s celebrated innovations. His idea of a ballet based on corps movement (with soloists serving primarily as compositional accents) is no longer revolutionary. And the sight of male dancers leaping toward the footlights has grown commonplace. To make us gasp at the ballet these days, it takes quadruple cabrioles or the Bejart boys in their cutaway dance-belts. Untamed savagery a la Russe is strictly for the folk dance crowd.

As staged by Frederic Franklin, the Harlem “Prince Igor” sharply defined the different tribal groups (each with a distinct vocabulary and rhythm) and gave their juxtaposition a certain formal interest.

As the Chief Warrior, Hugues Magen was clearly no power-jumper, but his turns ending with drops to the knee and the immediate firing of a crossbow looked superbly fluid and forceful. Lorraine Graves exuded statuesque allure as the Princess, and Yvonne Hall sweetly embodied all the punchy vivacity of the Young Girl.

David LaMarche attended to Borodin capably, with mezzo Marvellee Cariaga on hand for the solo in the opening sequence--but no chorus.

Equally exotic (though dating from 54 years later), George Balanchine’s “Bugaku” fused classical ballet with a sense of ceremony and behavior suggested by traditional Japanese culture. From Bugaku (court entertainment) came the weight and blare of the Toshiro Mayuzumi score and the enclosed platform setting designed by David Hays. From samurai movies and sumo came the ponderous stalk and glower of the men; from geisha lore, the giggly daintiness of the women.

As in “Agon,” Balanchine’s uses alien, pre-ballet conventions to turn the rhetoric of Franco-Russian classicism inside out. But Mayuzumi’s orchestral mewing and snarling never provides that kind of inspired launching pad, so only in the awesomely intricate pas de deux (danced Tuesday with spectacular authority by Christina Johnson and Ronald Perry) do we see Balanchine getting at essences and expanding the resources of his art.

Otherwise, even the notion of a noble cross-cultural experiment gets undercut by disastrous Karinska costumes--including G-strings under see-through kimonos--that evoke the Japan of “Fujiyama Mama” and “Welcome to Kanagawa.”

Staged by Rosemary Dunleavy and strongly conducted by Leslie B. Dunner, the Harlem “Bugaku” is at least another demonstration of this company’s formidable range. In truth, however, the dancers looked most impressive on Tuesday in the familiar production of Agnes de Mille’s “Fall River Legend” (music by Morton Gould).

Certainly the urgent, carefully shaped performances of Virginia Johnson (Lizzie Borden), Cassandra Phifer (the Stepmother) and Lowell Smith (the Pastor) again reached the heart of De Mille’s 1948 dance drama. Some revivals are valuable relics. Some are worthless curios. This one is a living monument.