BALLET REVIEW : Bolshoi Offers a Farewell ‘Giselle’

The Bolshoi Ballet bade farewell to Southern California on Sunday with yet another performance of “Giselle,” in Yuri Grigorovich’s surprisingly traditional production.

In most respects, it was business as usual at the Civic Theatre, and rather listless business at that. The company did not invariably put its best feet forward.

Technically deft and dramatically bland, Nina Semizorova again reduced the complex heroine to a wounded sparrow. Nina Speranskaya repeated her broadly efficient Wili Queen.

Yuri Vetrov advanced mechanically to the crucial duties of the jealous Hans (better known as Hilarion). Meanwhile, Gedeminas Taranda was wastefully demoted to the aristocratic poses assigned the Duke of Courland.

The elegant flourishes of the so-called peasant pas de deux were assigned to the lovely Natalia Arkhipova and a much improved Mikhail Sharkov. The dainty threats of the Wili lieutenants were stylishly dispatched, as always, by Elvira Drozdova and the exceptionally promising Olga Suvorova (herself a Giselle under other circumstances).

The performance offered only one novelty: Mark Peretokin as Albrecht. Boyish, slender and relatively inexperienced, he concentrated on theatrical basics--caddish charm in Act I, heroic remorse in Act II. At this stage of his career, he doesn’t seem to have developed much skill as an actor. His instincts are sound, however, and he exudes forthright sympathy.

Although Peretokin happens to be married to Semizorova, other danseurs convey Albrecht’s passion for Giselle with far greater compulsion. The most obvious reason for his interest in the peasant girl seemed to be the unbearbly snooty disdain projected by Irina Dmitrieva as his intended bride, Bathilde.

In the virtuoso tests of Act II, Peretokin managed swift air turns, admirably high leaps and soft landings, feats somewhat compromised by inexact footwork. When the vengeful Wilis tried to dance the hero to death, he threw himself into the the strenuous variations with such unbridled fervor that his heaving desperation seemed all too real. The secrets of pacing will, no doubt, come with time.

At the end of the performance, the capacity audience mustered the apparently obligatory standing ovation. As is their wont, Dwight Grell and other happy Bolshoi addicts buried the artists in floral tributes. Alexander Kopylov, the conductor, appreciatively tossed his bouquet into the orchestra pit.

Contrary to valedictory custom, Yuri Grigorovich--the beleaguered artistic director--did not take a bow.