Who needs the Russians when the Japanese can dance like this?

Telegraph

a day ago

Three years ago, not long after Russia (re-)invaded Ukraine, I wrote: 'The effective home arrest of Russia's (often touring) Big Two' dance companies – ie the Bolshoi and the Mariinsky – 'has now left a fascinating power vacuum on the international stage, not least in Covent Garden's summer schedules. Who will fill it?'
The root cause is miserably ongoing, of course, and yet we do have three very definite answers to date. In 2023, the Australian Ballet visited the Royal Opera House for the first time in 35 years; last August, a few streets away at the Coliseum, the State Ballet of Georgia made its charming UK debut. Now, at Covent Garden, the National Ballet of Japan is here for the very first time. And you know what? They may well be the pick of the visitors so far.
The company's Giselle is a complete and particularly beautiful success. On one hand, this perhaps shouldn't come as a complete surprise: western classical ballet has existed in Japan for at least a century, and a great many Japanese-born dancers go on to have illustrious careers in the West. But fair's fair: given that this troupe was founded as recently as 1997, the polish, professionalism and assurance of the production and performance alike are astonishing.
So, what is this Giselle actually like? In the extensive programme notes, Miyako Yoshida – a Royal Ballet star from 1995-2010, NBJ's director since 2020, and the show's producer – says: 'I felt drawn to a more traditional approach, but infused it with a sense of Japanese spirit'. Frustratingly, she doesn't elaborate on what the last part means. (An enhanced sense of the proximity between the 'real' and spirit worlds, conceivably?) But traditional, it certainly is.
Back in the day, Yoshida danced in Peter Wright's pitch-perfect staging for the Royal Ballet, and that version's heightened aesthetics and complete respect for the 1841 source material clearly got under her skin. Opulently and painstakingly designed by Dick Bird, and with unobtrusive embellishments to the Petipa/Coralli/Perrot choreography by Alastair Marriott – Britons both – this is in fact as 'western' a Giselle as you may ever see, a heartbreaking, almost immersively atmospheric Rhineland ghost story – from Tokyo.
Full marks, too for the dancing, across the ranks. Giselle – the dance-obsessed peasant girl in love with Albrecht, an already-betrothed count masquerading as a fellow commoner – is one of the great ballerina roles, and on the opening night Yui Yonezawa made it fly. Intensely musical, and almost impossibly light on her feet, she lends Giselle just the right dash of intensity and fragility, the sense of there being a vulnerable thread just waiting to be fatally unpicked by a lover's betrayal.
Her handling of the 'mad scene', in which her jealous would-be paramour Hilarion (Masahiro Nakaya, excellent) unmasks Albrecht and her heart gives out, is marvellously original; her Giselle seems to turn into a wraith before our very eyes, even before the moonlit, magical Act II has begun.
She and Shun Izawa's Albrecht – not in quite the same league, but a gutsy, full-blooded interpretation nonetheless – make a convincingly smitten couple in the earthbound Act I. And together they considerably swell the pathos in Act II, when Giselle's ghost, putting love over retribution, sets out to defend her errant ex from an army of 'Wilis', the vengeful spirits of women who were jilted on their wedding days.
And what an eye-widening army they are. In the Act I ensembles, on Thursday night, the corps were already displaying a rare cohesiveness; in Act II, they were positively unheimlich. I'm not sure I've ever seen such an utterly uniform, eerily hall-of-mirrors clutch of spectres in any Giselle, such a potent illusion of physical ethereality and subtly martial malevolence. (Incidentally, these oh-so-western wraiths make a beautiful contrast with those of Wimbledon-born Akram Khan's 2016 version for English National Ballet, which he effectively recast as ' yurei ', the lank-haired Japanese phantoms that have haunted many a terrifying movie.)
I suppose a cynic might argue that while Wright's Giselle remains a cornerstone of the Royal Ballet's repertory, this is all a bit coals-to-Newcastle. But when those coals are burning this very brightly, you won't hear me complaining.