Giselle

Adolphe Adams’s nineteenth century ballet explores the alienation and destruction caused social hierarchy. The aristocratic Albrecht falls for the lovely, lithe and nimble Giselle, a peasant girl. However, Albrecht neglects to tell Gisele that he is already betrothed to Princess Bathilde. Giselle finds out and is plunged into a despair that results in death.

The opening courtship scenes are played out on a stage of pastoral idyll. A dusky autumnal set of soft oranges and picturesque mountain cabins is dotted with colourfully costumed peasants who perform pageant-like dance sets. This blissful simplicity is broken by the arrival of the aristocratic hunting party, magnificent in their pomp, visually establishing the status dynamic upon which the narrative rests.

Ananiashvili provides a wonderful performance as Giselle: her frame is so slight and her movements so delicate that it seems she may break in the hefty arms of Albrecht, who is thumping and large and yet maintains majestic ballon. Indeed she does break. Giselle’s decent into insanity is breathtakingly human; she writhes in panicked circles, swooning and reeling, grasping at the composed nobles who surround her, and ridiculing the social conventions that have caused her downfall.

Gisele’s death ushers in a second-half of cool severity. The ethereal wilis—ghosts of betrayed women—arrive, veiled in white taffeta. Advanced point work underpins this ghostly army who offer synchronised arabesques à demi hauteur, their dresses forming the angles and shapes of human origami. Although the synchronisation occasionally fails in the larger ensemble work and some sections suffer from being a touch repetitive, this ballet is unquestionably impressive.