DANCE REVIEW : A Seasoned Swan in a Murky ‘Lake’

Lesley Collier, who took over the contrasting tutus of Odette and Odile in “Swan Lake” at the Orange County Performing Arts Center on Wednesday, is a bird of another feather.

After 26 years with the Royal Ballet--with nearly two decades spent as a vaunted principal--she ranks as the senior ballerina of the British company. The other swans who flutter around the murky production staged by Anthony Dowell and designed by Yolanda Sonnabend are girls. Collier is a woman.

Her virtues are obvious. She understands the broad dynamic structure of the challenge. She savors the grand line. She knows exactly how to integrate mime with music and dance. She has a natural grasp of a specific tradition that values understatement over flash.

Simplicity has always been her forte. She never seemed to be a dancer who cared a great deal about dramatic temperament or expressive profundity. But she obviously cared about style.

At this stage of her career, “Swan Lake” may not be a particularly congenial assignment. The physical requirements of the dual role are formidable, and Collier is not the sort of artist who can mask technical deficiencies with theatrical allure. She found the extended lyricism of the White Swan pas de deux something of a strain Wednesday, and mustered little brilliance for the bravura of the Black Swan.

She is not the first ballerina to falter in Odile’s fouette marathon. The fiery Maya Plisetskaya didn’t even attempt that particular trial, and the smoldering Margot Fonteyn usually whipped through an exercise that crested on fewer than the 32 florid spins dictated by competitive tradition.

Collier’s rather desperate effort proved notable for valor. Unfortunately, a shaky coda robs the entire act of its wonted climax.

She was considerately partnered by Stuart Cassidy as Siegfried. Still ranked as soloist with the company, he is young and lithe, amiable and eager. With his modest elevation and imprecise turns, he too ignited few sparks at the fatal ball, and his characterization of the impetuous prince--reduced by Dowell to callow Czarist cadet--still seems predicated on little more than a charming smile. Time, however, is on his side.

Despite wholesale cast changes, even in the incidental dances, the new “Swan Lake” looked as strange at the second local performance as it had at the first. One had to admire the basic choreographic integrity. One also had to deplore the decadent anachronisms of the oddly updated staging scheme. On this occasion, the flamboyant production values made the politely reticent dancing seem doubly bland.

David Drew as the overworked Rothbart--a.k.a. Nosferatu a.k.a. Big Bird a.k.a. Carabosse a.k.a. Old Owl a.k.a. Mad Conductor--exerted a reasonably primitive force. Jonathan Burrows bumbled nicely as the Tutor, as had Stephen Wicks the night before. The six high-heeled princesses in Act III bustled through their bizarre Gay ‘90s routine in good comic humor. A fiercely energetic Tetsuya Kumakawa flew breathlessly through the first-act pas de trois in the neat company of Fiona Brockway and Nicola Roberts.

The meager orchestra, vaguely identified in the program as “members of Pacific Symphony,” again served Tchaikovsky rather scrappily under the knowing, flexible leadership of John Lanchbery. This old pro, who was appointed principal conductor of the Royal Ballet more than 30 years ago, now serves his alma mater as occasional guest conductor. He is a reassuring presence in any pit.