ARTS
THE HARVARD CRIMSON APRIL 21, 2023
13
EDITOR’S PICK:
CAMPUS
‘NATASHA, PIERRE, AND THE GREAT COMET OF 1812’
COURTESY OF GRACE R. KIM
COURTESY OF BOSTON BALLET
Boston Ballet’s ‘Don Quixote’ Returns THE ACTING and directing were superb, making the romantic tension feel palpable. BY ARIELLE C. FROMMER CRIMSON STAFF WRITER
T
he Boston Ballet’s showing of the iconic ballet “Don Quixote” fully lived up to its grand reputation with a cast that utterly dazzled, radiating pure technical precision and fierce energy. The show ran from March 16 through 26 and was the company’s first performance of the famous ballet in over a decade. The show was staged by Rudolf Nureyev in 1982 for the Boston Ballet — with the famous ballerina and choreographer starring as Basilio in their original production — and features a larger-than-life cast of characters and a plot brimming with just the right balance of story and dance. An ailing Don Quixote (Paul Craig) follows his fancies of saving the beautiful Dulcinea (Chisako Oga) from wicked monsters, traveling into the village with his squire Sancho Panza (Isaac Abika). There, the headstrong Kitri (also played by Oga) wishes to marry flirtatious barber Basilio (Derek Dunn), but her father Lorenzo (Alec Roberts) won’t allow it, instead insisting that she marry a nobleman (Lawrence Rines Munro). Various hijinks ensue as Don Quixote involves himself in the conflict and the pair elope, following a wild chase through the Spanish countryside that culminates in a faked death, a hilari-
ous duel, and a glorious wedding. Everything was utterly exemplary, from the spectacular performances of the leads to the beautiful sets and costumes to the stunning soloists and corps de ballet who danced with great technique, artistry, and flair. The prologue started off strong, with the ailing but chivalrous Don Quixote dreaming of adventure and damsels in distress among the books of his study. The performance was immediately captivating — the costumes and sets were utterly gorgeous, perfectly complementing the dynamic, expressive dancers on stage. Craig captures the essence of the eponymous character amid his delusions of grandeur, at once embodying a silly old man and a dashing knight. Akiba’s animated performance as Sancho Panza was also superb as the focus of hilarious pantomimes and slapstick throughout the ballet. Ballet is an inherently performative art, and pantomiming is thus a crucial part of telling the story of the ballet. “Don Quixote” utterly succeeded in this aspect; the humor was sharp and witty, garnering lots of laughs from the audience throughout the ballet. The opening scene of Act I was bursting with energy, with every dancer at the top of their game. “Don Quixote” is an incredibly difficult ballet, requiring its dancers to have impeccable technique, precision, stamina, and artistic flair, and the Boston Ballet dancers rose to the challenge. Munro’s performance as the preening nobleman Ganache was especially memorable, and his affected mannerisms and self-important airs perfectly captured the frivoli-
ty of his character. However, the leads stole the show. Dunn’s energetic performance as Basilio exuded charisma and charm, and he demonstrated the breadth of his skill in the many challenging yet flawlessly executed jumps, turns, and partnering sequences performed by his character. His dramatic faked death in the third act was a delight to watch, and the audience was in an uproar as he leapt back to life. Oga was radiant as Kitri; her energy and spunk were infectious, imbuing each scene with greater liveliness. A naturally petite dancer, Oga nonetheless captured all attention when she leapt on stage with her gravity-defying leaps, whip-fast turns, precise petit allegro, and expressive acting — with many well-placed moments of sass. Her execution of the famous Kitri solo at the end of Act I was utterly spectacular, exhibiting both her explosive energy and phenomenal control as she hit every single beat in the iconic turn sequence. A soloist at the Boston Ballet, Chisako Oga has been featured in several prominent roles already. Fans of the Boston Ballet may recall her role as the elegant, sylphic Snow Queen in this past Nutcracker season, where she stood out among a sea of soloists. It was immensely satisfying to see such a deserving ballerina be given the opportunity to perform such a star role, and she absolutely blew it out of the water. Thanks to the superb acting and artistic directing, the audience could clearly sense the romantic tension between Kitri and Basilio, witnessing the charac-
Based on a 70-page segment from Leo Tolstoy’s “War and Peace,” the musical “Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812” follows ingénue Countess Natasha Rostova’s arrival in Moscow, where she meets the rogue Anatole. Meanwhile, Pierre, a sensitive and existential man, searches for higher meaning. The recent Harvard production of “Great Comet,” directed by Samuel F. Dvorak ’23, aimed to create a unique and emotional experience for both the artists and the audiences. “I think it’s a beautiful story about characters finding the meaning of life — finding community and fellowship and each other,” Olympia M. A. Hatzilambrou ’24 said, who plays the titular role of Natasha. serena.jampel@thecrimson.com
ters’ growth from amorous, fickle lovers to a mature young couple. The second act was excellent as well, and the audience enjoyed more humor and pantomime with the troupe of travelers, although some of the acting scenes became slightly harder to follow as the story’s complexity grew. Another phenomenal aspect of Act II were the special effects, especially in the dream scene when a ghostly specter of Dulcinea emerged to tempt Don Quixote into adventure. The glittering dryads also performed several lovely variations, including the Queen of the Dryad’s carefully controlled Italian fouettes (Viktorina Kapitonova). The wedding scene in Act III in this production felt a tad too long. The ballet ran a full two hours and 48 minutes, including two 20 minute intermissions. Nonetheless, the dancers were still at the top of their game, demonstrating their remarkable stamina. However, the audience may not have that kind of endurance, and the ballet certainly could have benefited from trimming down the intermissions quite a bit. Boston Ballet truly goes above and beyond in all aspects of the performance. The dancing was flawless and full of energy, the orchestra swelled at just the right moments, and the props and sets were vibrant and evocative of the whimsy of Don Quixote — such as an amusing two-person horse costume and the 30-foot tall mobile windmill. “Don Quixote” is not a show to be missed, and audiences will utterly enjoy this delight of a ballet.
SARAH NATOCHENNY ON VOICING ASH KETCHUM
COURTESY OF GRACE R. KIM
Sarah Natochenny has recently finished her time voicing main character 10-year-old boy, Ash Ketchum, in the English Dub of “Pokémon” — a role she held for 17 years. The Harvard Crimson sat down with the New York City native to discuss her feelings about her personal career growth in the acting industry, and her departure from this well loved anime character. “Voice acting is acting. To be a voice actor, you need to have a solid foundation as an actor first,” Natochenny said. “We have all these parallels,” she said. “We were canonically born the same year. In 1999, he won the Orange League. I won a bronze medal in the junior olympics for rhythmic gymnastics that year. 2019, he won the Alola League. I won a Voice Arts award. And now it’s 2023 — he won the World Championship. And hopefully, I’m gonna win that Webby. I have to win something. Otherwise, I’m gonna go to a claw machine in Japan and try to win a plushie, but I really don’t want that to be the story.” hailey.krasnikov@thecrimson.com
arielle.fromer@thecrimson.com
‘The Orange Tree’ Review: Rich Patterns of Association BY SEAN WANG ZI-MING CRIMSON STAFF WRITER
Complex, enigmatic, but undeniably compelling in its ephemeral images and bold creative choices, Dong Li’s poetry collection “The Orange Tree” showcases the expansiveness of the lyric voice and its capacity to cross borders, generations, and cultures. Dong Li, a recipient of the inaugural Phoenix Emerging Poet Book Prize for 2023, is unafraid to probe the recesses of familial sacrifice, national trauma, and cultural belonging to create a collection rife with images of immense suffering and extraordinary beauty. The collection’s close attention to visual detail stands out immediately. Li presents images through lush descriptions that create intricate patterns of association. He transforms ordinary objects into multifaceted conduits that thread together narratives across generations and gather emotional momentum as the poems progress. In the poem “The Orange Tree,” the titular tree in “Grandfather’s house” becomes a symbol of generational movement as “each generation planted their own orange
tree.” Li takes this central image of the orange tree in creative and unexpected directions, slowly turning it into a symbol of remembrance as the poem progresses to the present day. Through Li’s evocative writing, a simple item becomes charged with memory and emotional weight. These patterns of association become even more complex as they broaden beyond personal histories, expanding to accommodate both national and cultural memories. In the poem “The Orange Tree,” the simple image of oranges falling ominously parallels the rhythmic footsteps of marching invaders during the Nanjing Massacre as “the Oranges fell at night, one after another, soft on the ground./ The Japanese Army invaded the old capital.” Moving deftly through historical events — from the Cultural Revolution where the speaker’s mother “survived famine on orange peels” to the Tiananmen Square Massacre with the “orange-red faces of the young guards” — this intricate braiding of visual and lyrical associations unifies these major events in a narrative that feels fluid while still remaining cohesive.
It is in these representations of trauma that the delicacy and complexity of Li’s lyrical voice shines through. In the poem “Live, By Lightning,” the discomfitingly surgical image of “bayonets drawn in and out” is amplified by the imperative “listen” and the transition to the second-person “they would find you” later in the poem. The perspective switches constantly from the third-person — “he would never stand up again” — to the impersonal — “a strange / face flies through fine silhouette.” Rather than being confusing, these numerous points of view make the events more immersive, as the reader is simultaneously internal and external to the narrative. It is through this middle ground that everything feels more strangely lush; the suffering feels engrossing and inescapable. The poetry’s lyrical quality reaches its peak in the juxtapositions between natural imagery and human activity in “The Army Dreamer”: “the crossing never again day slides against the anguish of night time shredding the mind
fog and rain in the mountains army dreamer on a white horse a sleeve of twilight pierced the waters” Numerous contrasts illuminate the images which shift back and forth — from the macroscopic “night” to the microscopic “mind,” the dark “night” and the luminous “white horse,” or even the blur of “fog and rain” in opposition to the sharp clarity of “twilight pieced the waters.” These rich images are more atmospheric than semantic, creating a reading experience that activates the imagination. Li’s poetry resists any straightforward interpretation. Instead, it encourages the reader to explore its numerous possibilities and the emotive force that drives its images. The poetry moves beyond a recounting of history and charges its scenes with an ethereal quality, giving Li’s words a transcendental effect. These vivid images are reinforced by the collection’s inventive typography and visual features. The poems are marked with traditional Chinese calligraphy placed alongside English words, prompting readers to consider the English words in the same pictorial con-
text, especially if they cannot read Chinese themselves. This use of Chinese calligraphy is also complemented by Li’s inclusion of empty space. Some pages feature single lines, while on other pages, the words are scattered across the page in a manner symbolic of the mood the words invoke. For example, in “Live, By Lightning”, the stanza “Time sinks in the river / he could be dead / was he already memory” is placed at the bottom of a page that is empty for all but one other line, viscerally recreating an image of sinking. Because of its lyrical intensity and free-flowing associations, the poems can at times feel enigmatic and esoteric. However, Li’s use of patterns and carefully arranged typography ensures that readers never feel lost amidst the stunning images of this haunting collection. sean.wangzi-ming@thecrimson.com
5 STARS
