The Magic of ‘Giselle’ Restaged at PNB

Lucien Postlewaite and Kaori Nakamura as Giselle and Albrecht. 

The staging may be new, but the magic of Giselle hasn’t changed a bit. Last Friday at McCaw Hall Pacific Northwest Ballet opened its run of Peter Boal’s highly anticipated world premiere staging of the much-loved Romantic ballet, a beautifully danced production strong in characters and high in First-Act dramatics.

First performed in Paris in 1841, Giselle tells the story of a naive and fragile peasant girl who falls in love with Loys, a neighboring peasant who is actually Duke Albrecht in disguise. When Hilarion, Albrecht’s rival for Giselle’s affections, discovers the Duke’s identity he reveals the truth to Giselle in front of a royal hunting party, including Albrecht’s fiancé Bathilde. Upon the revelation Giselle goes mad, eventually dying when her weak heart stops beating. She passes into the world of the Wilis, vengeful spirits of young women who have died before their wedding day. When Albrecht visits Giselle’s grave and is caught up in the deathly dancing of the spirits, Giselle defies the Myrtha, the Queen of the Wilis, and selflessly saves Albrecht’s life. 

Choreographically, the PNB production is quite similar to the popular Marius Pepita revisions, but there is more pantomime in Act I, based off the original notes of the 1841 version by Jean Coralli and Jules Perrot. Without a strong prior knowledge of the ballet, the changes would most likely go unnoticed, and the strength of this production lies in the dancers’ embodiment of their characters. 

Last Saturday Kaori Nakamura and Lucien Postlewaite played Giselle and Albrecht respectively. She has danced the role before, and obviously so, but for Postlewaite it was the first time, and he was superb. Their onstage chemistry was evident; the slightest touch, a gesture of the arm, even a subtle glance embodied the emotion between the two dancers. Postlewaite’s performance was strong as usual: each jump and leap seeming to gain more height, and he executed a stunning series of entrechat sixes with seeming ease.

Nakamura performed a very nuanced Giselle, carrying the development of her character to its fullest. She is bursting with youth and naïveté in Act I; coyly flirting with the disguised Albrecht, admiring Bathilde’s dress and dancing when her mother forbids it. Nakamura’s movement in this scene has an underlying softness—the joy of dancing purely for dancing’s sake, a clear overlap with Giselle’s character. 

The iconic mad scene of Act I was disappointing in its rushed appearance, and in the fact that the full extent of Giselle’s grief didn’t have time to properly develop. There are moments where she seems to be shaking with maniacal laughter rather than heartbroken grief, and the suddenness of this scene detracts from its believability. In other productions Giselle often dies in the arms of Albrecht, sliding out of his grasp in a symbolic gesture of slipping to the world of the Wilis, but in this one she dies in the arms of her mother.

Act II is the standout of this production. The stage has been transformed from a cheery German village to a misty, midnight forest, and the mysterious Wilis waltz in a graceful dance, their faces stoic, and their arms wilting with grace. They execute the famous cross-stage arabesque chugs with simple ease, and their Queen, Myrtha (Maria Chapman), has immaculately crisp footwork. She has the ability to command Albrecht with no more than an icy gesture, and as he begs for his life the Wilis flank the stage, stern sentinels hard in their sentence…they are women scorned, after all.

The Act II duet between Postlewaite and Nakamura is absolutely breathtaking. When he lifts her, she appears absolutely weightless, and she flows with him in an effortless stretching and unfolding of limbs. Classical technique at its finest. As the ballerina travels across the stage en pointe, it seems like her toe shoes aren’t even touching the ground. As Albrecht is forced to dance to the brink of death he is saved as the sun begins to rise and the Wilis vanish.

Boal ends the ballet with members of the hunting party appearing, including an awkwardly placed Bathilde. Bringing these characters back onto the stage as Albrecht weeps at Giselle’s grave is not only distracting, but also lessens the emotional impact as the curtain drops.

Despite a few questionable staging choices, the dancers’ performances were strong, and the principal characters layered the story with emotionality. One aspect of Giselle that cannot be conveyed through writing is the magical, otherworldly, sometimes empathetic experience of watching this ballet—and thankfully the magic is alive and well. 

Giselle runs through June 12. Tickets here. 

Images taken by Angela Sterling, provided by PNB.