warning Hi, we've moved to USCANNENBERGMEDIA.COM. Visit us there!

Neon Tommy - Annenberg digital news

Boris Eifman's 'Rodin' is a Blend of Muse and Medium

Christina Campodonico |
June 14, 2015 | 12:23 p.m. PDT

Contributor

Balanchine once said, “Ballet is woman.” In Boris Eifman’s ballet Rodin, based on the real-life love triangle between famed 19th century sculptor Auguste Rodin, his protégé-lover Camille Claudel, and his long-term partner Rose Beuret, woman and ballet become almost indistinguishable.

Photo by Gene Schiavone
Photo by Gene Schiavone

Atop a whirling pedestal, Rodin (danced by Oleg Gabyshev Friday night) sculpts a live model with deft hands into near impossible contortions—a leg wrapped around the back of the neck, an arm stuck straight into the air that defies gravity as Rodin has locked that arm snugly between the model’s leg and ear.  It’s a miracle that the dancer, coerced into this pose, holds it as long as she does, before unraveling—frantically waving her free hand at Rodin, as if to say, “Help me unwind!”

The moment inspires wonder at the pliability of human anatomy and incites good-humored guffaws from the audience.  The physical feats of Eifman’s eponymously named company from St. Petersburg are jaw dropping, indeed—and, at times, chuckle-inducing—but not all is quite right in this artist’s studio. 

While many may be swept away by Eifman’s evocative forms, the tableaux that this choreographer presents to us forces contemplation of the position of women in the art world. 

In Eifman’s rendering of Camille, (danced with verve by Lyubov Andreyeva on Friday night), the line between muse and medium is extremely blurred. Rodin and Camille become so entwined—romantically and artistically—that when she slithers under her lover’s blouse, her face bulges from beneath the cloth like an extension of Adam’s rib. If Camille is an Eve-like temptress to Rodin, then he is her Pygmalion.  

Upon first encounter, an enraptured Rodin fashions her like clay, placing her limbs into place, just so.  The aspiring sculptress even arrives at Rodin’s workshop on a wheelbarrow, along with the artist’s supplies. A team of deliverymen tosses, lobs and twirls her about the stage, just like a piece of cargo.

The ensemble of Eifman Ballet of St. Petersburg in Rodin (Photo by Gene Schiavone)
The ensemble of Eifman Ballet of St. Petersburg in Rodin (Photo by Gene Schiavone)

Yet, it is not so much the engrossing physical presentation of Camille’s entanglement with Rodin that distresses, but the dramatization of her as a malleable object, rather than a creative artist in her own right.  

For instance, when Camille and Rodin are sculpting together in the studio, why is it that he is able to manipulate real, life-size men, while Camille is stuck handling a miniscule clay prop?    

Perhaps this is Eifman’s way of pointing out the severe inequalities between Rodin and his protégé. His artist’s ego is bigger, his sculptures are larger, his legacy better remembered and his impact on art history, ultimately, far greater.  But it also gives the sense that Rodin’s genius is privileged over Claudel’s.  

Eifman appears more acutely aware of this gender imbalance in his portrayal of the arts critics who adoringly swarm Rodin’s masterpiece in the first act, and deride Camille’s avant-garde creation in the second. Like glistening green beetles straight out of Oz, these journalistic busy bodies and snobbish writers applaud Rodin’s endeavor with their fluttering red notebooks, but stick their noses into Camille’s stringy statue of the Greek fate Clotho, only to sneer some more. 

In this way, Eifman does acknowledge the unkind treatment of Camille Claudel’s artistic legacy, historically overshadowed by Rodin’s. But where Eifman is less kind is in the characterization of her ensuing madness, brought on by Rodin’s refusal to leave his long-time partner, Rose Beuret, and the crush of critical scrutiny. 

Photo by Gene Schiavone
Photo by Gene Schiavone

While Rodin’s tortured genius is quite literally put on a pedestal and given choreographic complexity in his solos, Camille’s creative turmoil is infantilized, reduced to an overwrought hysteria.  A motley crew of undergarment-clad women populates the asylum where Camille is committed. They are an external accouterment to Camille’s emotional, internal chaos. Bonneted and cock-eyed like little dolls, they all stare out at the audience with crazed eyes and surreal smiles, jerking occasionally and playing with their dirty pillows.

This characterization of insanity feels like a poor picture of mental health, especially when others have used the corps de ballet to elevate the theme of madness to such a majestic level. Graeme Murphy’s Swan Lake, which recast the white swan, black swan saga as a love triangle between Princess Diana, Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles, transformed the rejected princess’s unrequited love and passionate vulnerabilities into a liquid sea of ethereal shades on the Dorothy Chandler’s stage last fall.  In contrast, Eifman’s company numbers feel gaudy in the same space, rather than transcendent. 

Some of the damage is repaired when a giant, black wave ripples across the entire stage, engulfing Camille with foreboding gravitas. Finally the scope of her impressive and tortured talent is matched by Eifman’s employ of theatrical effects.  

These geometries are a wonder to behold, especially on soloist Yulia Manjeles, who plays Rodin’s supplicating, yet possessive partner, Rose. Accommodating angularities that verge on the dislocation of vertebrae, knees and hip sockets, she delivers her movements with a visceral and emotive agency that become her scorned character and limber frame. This gymnastic flexibility is both painful and pleasurable to watch.  Indeed, Rodin shines most when Eifman allows sculpture to overpower showmanship. Right when the melodrama overwhelms, an incredible moment of awe permeates the theater.  Affixed to a web-like set piece (designed with incredible imagination by Zinovy Margolin), a tangle of men and women unfold like a flower blossoming at dawn, revealing the gorgeous contours of the human form.

In such seamless handiwork, beauty and danger ultimately lie. Not knowing where the ballet begins and the ballerina ends, Eifman’s aesthetic seduction may make one almost forget the troubles that roil on beneath. 

   

The Eifman Ballet of St. Petersburg performed Rodin at The Dorothy Chandler Pavilion at the Music Center, June 12-14, as part of Glorya Kaufman Presents Dance at the Music Center. The 2014|15 season concludes with BalletNow, July 10-12. For more information on dance programming visit www.musiccenter.org

 Contact contributor Christina Campodonico here.

For more Theater and Dance Coverage, click here.



 

Buzz

Craig Gillespie directed this true story about "the most daring rescue mission in the history of the U.S. Coast Guard.”

Watch USC Annenberg Media's live State of the Union recap and analysis here.