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Korea Herald
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Korea Herald
Two ‘Little Mermaid' dancers, trading fins for legs, learn to walk as if for the first time
John Neumeier's 'Little Mermaid' by Korean National Ballet gets second run The long, blue fabric sways like a mermaid's tail, rippling as much through the air as across the stage. At a rehearsal for John Neumeier's 'The Little Mermaid,' two dancers of the Korean National Ballet swim tirelessly — not in water, but through air and across the floor — in pursuit of the most innocent love. Cho Yeon-jae, reprising the role she performed at last year's premiere, and Kim Byeol, making her debut after understudying, perform the narrative ballet from Wednesday to Sunday at the Seoul Arts Center. Like the mermaid struggling to walk on new legs, the two dancers were busy learning to move gracefully while 'swimming' in tails during a rehearsal earlier this month. In an interview with The Korea Herald, the two described just walking in their tails — wide pants, long and slippery — as a challenge in itself. They must kick the fabric just right so it flutters freely without tangling or tripping them up. 'I've developed this strange new skill for kicking it properly,' Cho said. 'Even so, I tripped a lot at first — sometimes stepping on my own tail, sometimes someone else stepping on it, or getting tangled around legs and arms.' And no matter how careful they are, the pants seem to have a will of their own. 'My legs have gotten plenty of bruises,' Kim added. 'There's always a chance it won't go the way I want. It's nerve-wracking.' Swimming with arms and tail Based on Hans Christian Andersen's 1837 story, Neumeier's ballet follows a mermaid's yearning to enter the human world for love, a journey marked by sacrifice and profound pain — intertwined with Andersen's autobiographical tale of unrequited love. 'The story teaches us that no matter how much we may love someone, this does not make the other person responsible (for loving us),' Neumeier said at a press conference in Seoul last year. The challenge of becoming a mermaid doesn't end with mastering the long tail. The arm movements diverge sharply from classical ballet's elegant arcs. Instead, the dancers craft port de bras that ripple and wave as if swimming underwater — delicate, fluid and almost primitive in their muscular expressiveness. To get it right, Kim went to a swimming pool. 'I tried moving my arms underwater to feel the resistance — how slow and heavy it is. I wanted to bring that sensation into my dancing.' For Cho, the trick was finding the right balance — not quite perfect, but not too sloppy. She said last year's rehearsals involved constant corrections of her arm movements. So this year, she practiced them in advance, but the directors told her she was moving 'too' well. 'I had to keep reminding myself that underwater you wouldn't move that fast. So I focused on moving more slowly, as if suspended in water.' One of the most striking scenes depicts the mermaid trading her tail for legs. From that moment, she walks on land with agony. 'I'm imagining a child just beginning to walk, unable to fully control their limbs. I want to bring that awkwardness,' Cho said. Kim studied videos of newborn calves. 'They're wobbly, unsure. I tried to imitate that. I even thought, maybe getting actual blisters would make the pain more real.' Riding emotions of dramatic ballet Earlier this year, both dancers took on major roles in Neumeier's 'The Lady of the Camellias' — Cho as Marguerite, Kim as Olympia and Manon. With back-to-back ballets by the same choreographer, they are fully immersed in the world of narrative ballet. 'In drama ballet, you can't let the thread of emotion drop until the curtain falls,' Cho said. Kim agreed. 'Your emotions guide your movements, so they change every rehearsal, every night, little by little. I think that's why I love it. That's the beauty and the art.' For Cho, the emotional peaks are unforgettable. 'In the pas de deux with the prince in the pink dress at the climax — from the scream to the final scene — everything I've built from Act I comes pouring out,' she said. Kim's favorite moment comes earlier, in silence. 'After rescuing the prince and moving him ashore, my mermaid sisters call me away. I start to follow but I can't. I turn back to him. That stillness there … every time, it hits me. It's the moment I realize I truly love him.' Cho, promoted to principal earlier this year, has firmly established her name among ballet fans and is mindful of the responsibility that comes with the role. 'I know my weaknesses better than anyone. I want to grow into someone worthy of the title,' she said. 'With each role, I learn so much. I can feel changes in my body and technique. I want to keep improving and be the kind of dancer who surprises every time.' For corps de ballet member Kim, the company's youngest dancer, this is her second lead role in Seoul after December's 'The Nutcracker.' 'I want to be an artist who moves not just with technique but with genuine emotions — someone who can share that sincerity with the audience and move their hearts,' Kim said.
New York Times
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Cecilia Bartoli Knows What Makes Good Opera and Ragù: Time
Cecilia Bartoli would be back at the ballet in a moment. She just needed to get murdered first. It was early June, during the long weekend of the Salzburg Whitsun Festival in Austria, which she runs. When the curtain dropped on the first half of John Neumeier's ballet 'Death in Venice' at the Grosses Festspielhaus, she got up from her seat and briskly exited the auditorium. She followed a corridor through a courtyard that brought her to the lobby of the Felsenreitschule, a theater built into the side of a mountain. As she crossed the threshold, she shook off her role as the festival's artistic director and stepped into the persona she is best known for: Cecilia Bartoli, star mezzo-soprano. Inside the Felsenreitschule, members of the orchestra Les Musiciens du Prince-Monaco were seated onstage, and their conductor, Gianluca Capuano, was waiting at the podium. Bartoli entered, waved hello with both hands and shared cheek kisses with friends on her way to the stage. She took her place in a chair, closed her eyes and let her head go limp. Then she winked. She wasn't resting but acting, transforming into the sleeping Desdemona in her death scene from Rossini's 'Otello.' When Bartoli rose again, it was to sing dramatically alongside the tenor Sergey Romanovsky, before collapsing as he stabbed her with a stage knife. After about 20 minutes of refining the scene, she grabbed her purse, hustled back to the Grosses Festspielhaus and took her seat for the second half of 'Death in Venice.' Since 2012, this kind of bustle has been the Whitsun Festival routine for Bartoli. She is both its artistic director and its biggest attraction, shifting constantly from performer to audience member, from party host to cheerleader. This would be enough for any one person, but unlike most opera stars or artistic leaders on her level, she has a lot else going on: She is a busy singer beyond Salzburg, she founded an orchestra, and she is the director of the Opéra de Monte-Carlo in Monaco. Bartoli is 59, an age when many opera stars wind down their careers. But she is on an opposite trajectory. Her voice remains in remarkable shape, her tone still plush, with the control and coloratura of a much younger vocalist. And she is far from done being an artistic director. Her contract at the Whitsun Festival was approaching its end when she and the festival announced this month that she would extend through 2031. By that point, she will be its longest-serving leader, eclipsing even the tenure of its founder, Herbert von Karajan. 'I will stay,' Bartoli said in an interview, 'as long as I feel I have something to say.' With her own opera company and festival, as well as an orchestra and expanding repertoire, Bartoli is teeming with things to say. And her rare longevity as a singer has been made possible through extreme care; she has always kept tight control over what she performs and where, and has never stopped training her voice. Bartoli, who was born and raised in Rome, and who values excellent food, compared her artistry to ragù. 'What is the secret of a good ragù?' she said. 'It's time. You cannot make a good ragù sauce in five minutes.' She then made the bloop-bloop sound of a simmering sauce and said that slowness is just as necessary in music. 'Your voice, your muscles, everything needs to adjust slowly,' she said. 'Otherwise you end up like a watery ragù.' It seems as if Bartoli were fated to become an opera star: Her parents, both singers, named her after the patron saint of music. (Her mother, Silvana Bazzoni, is often by her side and was a fixture throughout the Whitsun Festival; her husband, Oliver Widmer, is a bass-baritone.) She spent much of her childhood in theaters, watching her parents and other vocalists at work. She didn't see herself as a singer, though. She was more interested in flamenco, and wanted to join an amateur group in Rome. Her parents didn't like the idea but made a deal with her: She could keep dancing if she also studied at a music conservatory. 'It turns out,' Bartoli said, 'I was much faster with my vocal cords than with my feet.' From time to time she still dabbles in flamenco, as some disgruntled hotel guests could attest. 'I always loved to do a little zapateado in my room on tour,' she said, 'but in the United States someone called and asked, 'What is that strange noise?'' Bartoli's mother was an early teacher, but after school she attracted mentors with global reach, chief among them the conductor Daniel Barenboim. They met in the late 1980s, when she was performing in Rossini operas, and he nudged her toward Mozart. 'He told me I could do characters like Cherubino, Dorabella, Zerlina,' she said. 'And it turned out to be fantastic advice, because with Mozart there is such a pureness to the music, you must control your instrument 200 percent.' Control is a hallmark of Bartoli's sound. Even at the top of her range, she is capable of extreme softness and focus, whether in 'Hotel Metamorphosis' at this year's Whitsun Festival or, famously, her performances of 'Casta diva,' from Bellini's 'Norma.' In an aria already scored at a prayerful whisper, she is quieter than many of her peers. Above all, Bartoli is a master of ornamentation. Her repertoire covers centuries of music, but the finest displays of her vocal acrobatics are in her recordings of works from the Baroque through the bel canto eras. In 1999, she released 'The Vivaldi Album' on Decca; it sold over a million copies and inspired renewed interest in a composer rarely thought of in opera. 'It was a crossover hit,' Bartoli said, 'but with the idea that people will cross the bridge to come to us, and not the other way around.' Lea Desandre, a 32-year-old mezzo-soprano and fellow star in 'Hotel Metamorphosis,' said that she grew up listening to Bartoli's albums and loved 'the freedom and the joy that she has while singing, and really the energy.' Bartoli's quick successes brought her to the Metropolitan Opera in New York at 29, as Despina in Mozart's 'Così Fan Tutte.' But she hasn't performed at the house since 1998. Because she's afraid to fly, her career has been far less robust in the United States than in Europe. When she has traveled to the United States, it has been by boat. 'It's actually a fantastic experience,' she said. 'You see the aurora borealis, you don't get sick, and you don't have to worry about jet lag. The most amazing part is arriving in New York and seeing the Statue of Liberty from far away, just thinking about all the migrants who made the same trip.' During the Whitsun Festival, Bartoli repeatedly teased that she may return to New York soon; so did Capuano, her close collaborator with Les Musiciens du Prince-Monaco, suggesting that they would come together. She founded Les Musiciens du Prince-Monaco in 2016 with Jean-Louis Grinda, her predecessor at the Opéra de Monte-Carlo, because she wanted to create a period ensemble in a place that could resemble the courts of Baroque palaces. That summer, Capuano took over a performance of 'Norma' at the Edinburgh Festival on short notice. It was his first time leading Bartoli in an opera, and the two had, he said, 'a really special alchemy.' He became the chief conductor of Les Musiciens du Prince-Monaco in 2019, and today his schedule is intertwined with Bartoli's; the orchestra is even in residence at the Whitsun Festival. 'I learned a lot from Cecilia,' Capuano said. 'She taught me the freedom of doing music, to breathe and not be too square, with the art of rubato she uses all the time.' The Salzburg performances of 'Hotel Metamorphosis' demonstrate how their musical relationship plays out. Conceived and directed by the opera luminary Barrie Kosky, the show is a pasticcio, a kind of operatic jukebox musical that tells Ovid stories using scraps of Vivaldi's music. In the pit, the orchestra performed with broken-in comfort, free yet unified, especially when supporting Bartoli. Before Bartoli came to the Whitsun Festival, it lacked the sparkle and touch of glamour it is known for today. It struggled to find an identity after the death of von Karajan, in 1989, mostly serving as a showcase for Baroque music led by guest conductors. Riccardo Muti became the first modern artistic director in 2007. He stayed for five years, and used his platform to revive obscure Italian operas. Bartoli came to the Whitsun Festival with a clear idea of what it should be. Each year has been organized around a theme, and has included a new opera production, with Bartoli as its star. At the after-party for 'Hotel Metamorphosis,' Markus Hinterhäuser, the artistic leader of the main Salzburg Festival, said, 'If the Whitsun Festival has a heartbeat, and that heartbeat has a name, it's Cecilia Bartoli.' She has sung her Norma there, worn a beard in Handel's 'Ariodante' and, most sensationally, starred as Maria in a 'West Side Story' framed as an older woman's flashback. Along the way, her voice has changed, but she has tailored her repertoire accordingly, and, Capuano said, the best aspects of her artistry have remained. 'In Cecilia, you cannot distinguish the melodic line and inner meaning because they are the same,' he said. 'And the way she can still give different colors is just stunning.' Unchanged, too, is Bartoli's reputation for professionalism. Kosky called her 'a force of nature' and described her as extremely dedicated. 'She is one of the most authentic people I have ever worked with,' he said, 'and when you combine that with one of the great voices of the last few decades, it is impossible to resist her.' Capuano said that she is often the first to arrive at a rehearsal and the last to leave; Desandre was struck by her ability to focus quickly and 'always be there in the moment' and make 'the group feel like a group immediately.' In June, Bartoli entered each room like a gust, her default greeting a smile with a look of wide-eyed excitement, sometimes accompanied by a hug or a kiss. A kind of roving pep leader, she didn't even give a speech at her opera's after-party, instead announcing, 'Dobbiamo cominciare la festa, mangiamo!' ('We need to start the party, let's eat!') When Bartoli wasn't performing, she was attending other shows and handing out bouquets during curtain calls. After the Hamburg Ballet's 'Death in Venice,' she rushed to hug Neumeier and whisper 'I'm so proud of you' into his ear. She lingered backstage, rapidly switching among Italian, French and English, and posing for photos. She closed the festival with a gala of pyrotechnic Rossini arias, an evening that included multiple costume changes and comic delights that showcase her charisma, like 'Nella testa ho un campanello' from 'L'Italiana in Algeri.' During an encore from 'Il Barbiere di Siviglia,' she threw in a little bit of flamenco dance. 'I had to since we're in Spain!' Bartoli said as she entered her dressing room afterward. For her, the long night wasn't over yet. There was still a gala dinner to attend, though she would try to duck out early to sleep. She had to leave the next morning to star in Gluck's 'Orfeo ed Euridice' that night in Cremona, Italy. And, of course, she would be getting there by car.
New York Times
10-06-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Hamburg Ballet's Artistic Director Leaves After Just 10 Months
The Hamburg Ballet's last director, John Neumeier, led the company for 51 years, transforming it from a provincial troupe into an internationally respected house. His successor, Demis Volpi, lasted just 10 months. On Tuesday, Hamburg State Opera said in a news release that its board and Volpi had agreed to terminate his contract at the ballet four years early. The announcement followed weeks of crisis at the company after it emerged that five principal dancers had resigned, and that more than half of the company's dancers had sent a letter to a local lawmaker to complain of a 'toxic working environment' under Volpi. In Tuesday's release, Volpi said that 'despite intensive efforts,' he could no longer realize his artistic vision and had agreed to depart 'in the interests of all involved.' Volpi, an Argentine choreographer who previously led the Ballet am Rhein in Düsseldorf, did not respond to a request for an interview, and a spokeswoman for Hamburg Ballet said it would not comment further. It was not immediately clear what Volpi's departure would mean for the company's coming season, which Volpi had announced in March and is to include the premiere of Alexei Ratmansky's 'Wonderland,' based on Lewis Carroll's novels. Nor is it clear how the company will handle productions of Volpi's work. A new version of Volpi's 'Surrogate Cities' is scheduled to premiere in July. And Volpi's 'Demian,' based on the novel by Hermann Hesse, is scheduled to be performed in December. The crisis at Hamburg Ballet began in early May when German newspapers widely reported dancers' complaints about its artistic direction under Volpi, as well as accusations that he was insufficiently present during rehearsals. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
The Guardian
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Hamburg Ballet dancers accuse artistic director of creating ‘toxic environment'
Ballet dancers at a top German company have reportedly written an excoriating critique of their new artistic director, accusing him of creating a 'toxic work environment.' More than half of the 63 dancers making up the troupe have complained of untenable working conditions under Hamburg Ballet's artistic director, Demis Volpi, who joined the company last September, taking over from the US choreographer John Neumeier. Neumeier, who retired last year at the age of 86 after 51 years in the role, is credited with having taken the German company from relative obscurity to a position of world renown in the dance world. But the mood at the company is now restive, according to a letter written last month to Hamburg's minister of culture, Carsten Brosda, and seen by reputable German media. Five of its 11 first soloists, considered the stars of the ensemble, have announced their resignation, and are due to leave the company at the end of the current season. Both collectively and individually, they have complained of Volpi's lack of leadership and artistic expertise, and the 'deep mistrust that [he] has towards his employees'. 'The current leadership is creating increasing internal problems and a toxic working environment through poor communication, a lack of transparency and an often dismissive attitude,' the letter reads. The criticisms have been echoed by dancers from the company Ballett am Rhein in Düsseldorf, where Volpi was at the helm for four years. They say they were moved by their counterparts in Hamburg to open up about their own similar experiences with him. In a letter also addressed to Brosda, 17 Rhein dancers wrote: 'During his time with us, we found that Mr Volpi created a work environment characterised by inconsistent communication, a lack of transparency, and an atmosphere of fear and uncertainty. 'Constructive feedback was often met with negative consequences, which made open exchange difficult and undermined trust.' The dancers warn in the letter: 'It is only a matter of time until not only John Neumeier's legacy will be lost, but also the high standard and the international reputation that the company enjoys.' Hamburg's first soloist, Alexandr Trusch, who came to the company aged 12, after moving to Hamburg from Ukraine, said he was 'abandoning everything' by leaving after 23 years because he could not tolerate the existing situation. 'I'm giving up everything, my career, my work, because I can't support such behaviour and such a low level of artistry which is in danger of destroying everything,' he told broadcaster NDR, saying he did not have a new post in place. He accused Volpi of being someone who 'is very good at selling his visions, but the quality he delivers is abysmal'. The other soloists to have announced their departure are Madoka Sugai, Jacopo Bellussi, Christopher Evans and Alessandro Frola. Sugai, 30, from Atsugi City, Japan, confirmed in an interview with Die Zeit that her departure was related to Volpi's style of leadership. Evans, 30, from Loveland, Colorado, who was the first soloist to announce his resignation, told the newspaper: 'I don't feel like Volpi understands us or has any idea how much work we put in and how much passion we put into our work.' Volpi, 39, who is German-Argentinian, denied the accusations in an interview last week with the Hamburger Abendblatt. More recently, he told the Rheinische Post: 'Intensive discussions are possible and are taking place right now.' He told Die Zeit he would like to respond to the dancers' letter, but said they had yet to send it to him. 'I don't have the letter,' he said, adding that he was 'willing to work on things', but for that to happen 'the criticism must be brought to my attention'. A coach 'who specialises in processes of change' in the field of the performing arts has been appointed at the ballet, Volpi said, whose job would be to mediate between the parties. Volpi was approached by the Guardian for comment through the Hamburg Ballet. Requests for information to the company have been directed to Brosda. In a written statement, Brosda said: 'We take the accusations very seriously and are carrying out lots of discussions behind the scenes. The management and the company must now quickly find solutions together to prevent further damage to everyone.' Meanwhile, the company is continuing to rehearse for the first ballet production choreographed by Volpi for Hamburg in July, an adaptation of the Hermann Hesse novel Demian, a coming of age tale which investigates the themes of identity and morality. Dance critics are expected to be paying far more attention than usual.
