{Hand-coloured lithograhic print depicting Marie Taglioni in La Sylphide (Souvenir d'adieu, No. 3) by Edward Morton after a drawing by A. E.
Chalon, in the collection of the V&A.}
Many things constitute a treat, but perhaps, for me, one of the greatest treats is that of seeing something in preview to opening. The very phrase behind-the-scenes, for me, is imbued with secrecy, rareness, and thrill. It cannot be anything other than this, a pleasure bound to privilege and a privilege bound to pleasure, to see an artwork in any stage of progress from germ of idea to final alterations. It carries a unique excitement all of its own that comes chiefly, I suspect, from being allowed to see a part of the process before the varnish has set and all is fixed. A composition in its still fluid stage being mapped out. A drawing near-to complete aside for tonal adjustments to be made in the area of the foreground. An exhibition being installed in the gallery before tools are packed away and lighting adjusted. A written draft of raw ideas, sections crossed out and reworked in the margin. A full dress rehearsal in the theatre on the evening before opening night. The unguarded moment perhaps here, for me, the link, and I am reminded of Philippe Béziat’s film Becoming Traviata which allows you to see up close the physical and emotional demands of the rehearsal process. A private moment made public. Who would refuse a peep at this? Who could say no to such an electrically charged thrill? Not me. And so it was that last night I found myself at the State Theatre with Louise delighting in the unattainable and otherworldly, at The Australian Ballet’s full dress rehearsal of Marius Petipa’s Paquita and Erik Bruhn after August Bournoville’s two-act work La Sylphide. The orchestra in the pit wears not their standard black attire and I enjoy being able to see them in their array of coloured tops, no need yet to disappear into dark cavern. A couple of slightly faster tempo requests are made, lost to my untrained ear, and through James’ farmhouse window, a technician not a sylph can for briefest moment be seen. These brief episodes made for the cherry top to the evening and it was strange to think that only hours earlier I sat in the dentists’ chair for the second time this week with my mouth opened wide and my eyes clamped shut. But for rehearsal’s duration, I forgot about my teeth that earlier felt as though they’d been knocked out and in their place tiny hot coals placed. A beautiful distraction if ever there was! Like our young Scottish farmer, I was permitted to inhabit a charmed other world in which I being of the earth cannot long stay. And like all treats, I was left that curious meld of sated yet wanting more and I cannot wait to see this work (twice) next week. Kilts, woodland sylphs, tutus, and longing, carry me quickly, days, to the romance of it all.
La Sylphide opens tonight, float along and see. I am looking forward to writing about these works in detail, and hope,
as always, that you can get to see these performances I share with your
own eyes too.
{Marie Taglioni in the title role of the ballet La Sylphide, Paris, 1832, lithograph from Harry Beard Collection, V&A.}
{Published in 1860, when Taglioni was teaching at the Paris Opera, this hand-coloured lithographic print is a copy of an 1830 image, given by Dame Marie Rambert to the V&A collection.}
In Marie Taglioni, the ballerina who created the role of the sylph, those elements fused to create an indelible impression of magic, mystery and ethereal loveliness.
(La Syl-fever by Caitlyn Lehmann, Behind Ballet)
{Achille Jacques Jean Marie Devéria lithographic print by Cattier, published by Goupil & Vibert in the 1830s, given by Dame Marie Rambert to the V&A collection.}
{Marie Taglioni in La Sylphide (Souvenir d'adieu, No. 1) by Chalon, published 8th of September, 1845}
La Sylphide remains popular for more than its history and style. With its supernatural themes and its tragic hero seeking escape from the mundane world through his dreams, La Sylphide encapsulates the Romantic fixation with the restless outsider who cannot find a spiritual home in the modern world. The ghostly whiteness of the sylph, coupled with the dark irrationality of the hero’s desires, creates a Romantic world delicately balanced between light and dark, natural and supernatural.
(Styling La Sylphide by Hila Shachar, Behind Ballet)
{Madlle Fanny Cerito (sic) hand-coloured lithographic print by John Deffett Francis printed by Dickinson Brothers, 20th of April 1846, in the collection of the V&A.}
+ La Sylphide, Ellen Price, filmed 1906
+ La Sylphide in the studio, 2013
