Do you believe in fairy-tale magic?
It’s not something reserved for childhood or storybooks, at least not when the Houston Ballet is involved and staging one of the most iconic fairy tales of all time, The Sleeping Beauty.
The story, a classic “once upon a time” tale by Charles Perrault, is likely familiar. An uninvited fairy guest, Carabosse, crashes the christening of Princess Aurora. Angry that she wasn’t invited, Carabosse curses the baby, so that one day when she grows up, she will prick her finger and die. Luckily, The Lilac Fairy, the only fairy yet to give a gift to the child, alters Carabosse’s evil curse. Instead of dying, Aurora will sleep instead, a sleep that will eventually be ended by a prince’s kiss.
Perrault’s “The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood” has become fairly ubiquitous over the last 275 years, adapted by – to name a few – the Brothers Grimm, Disney, and (of course) Marius Petipa and Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky in 1890.
Yet another great, Ben Stevenson, reimagined the ballet for Houston Ballet in 1990 and if one thing is clear, it’s that the production proves him to be an adept storyteller who knows how to dazzle the eye. Not only is Stevenson’s The Sleeping Beauty a shining example of classical ballet with an overwhelming sense of grandeur, it’s comfort watch material that you can happily revisit again and again.
Of course, Aurora, the titular sleeping beauty, is the lynchpin of any telling of this tale. And that is the transition to the next section called, “We get it, Yuriko Kajiya. You’re a master of pointe work.”
As Princess Aurora, Kajiya is pretty in pink tulle, radiating an infectious, youthful joy as she flutters around the stage in the first act. It’s almost deceptive, considering the power and control Kajiya quickly displays during the always anticipated Rose Adagio, a highlight of this (and really any) production of The Sleeping Beauty.
The role of Aurora is more than the Rose Adagio, but you can feel a sense of anticipation in the room from the moment the curtain rises on the first act. It’s a sequence in which Aurora acknowledges her potential husbands-to-be – four distinctly designed princes played by Eric Best, Riley McMurray, Saul Newport, and Aaron Daniel Sharratt – while balanced on pointe and gently spun around, one arm elevated over her head, hand holding the roses each prince gifts her. And let me tell you, it does not disappoint. Kajiya awes, attitude promenades captivating the audience, which you can feel holding their breath for every second.
But it’s far from the only example of Kajiya’s beautifully exacting pointe work, which pops up again and again, and particularly notable during her third act pas de deux with Prince Florimund.
Connor Walsh is good-natured and pensive as Prince Florimund, who quickly becomes a man on a mission after seeing visions of Aurora. The pay-off is when we finally see Walsh and Kajiya united as a couple in the third act, their grand pas de deux a museum-worthy work of art on its own, boasting a palpable emotional connectedness, picture-perfect holds, and three daring fish dives in short succession.
The real hero of the story is The Lilac Fairy, played by Bridget Allinson-Kuhns, as she is the one that counteracts Carabosse’s curse and eventually lures the prince to Aurora to finally put an end to the princess’s hundred-year nap. Allinson-Kuhns is a refreshing presence on stage, especially opposite Jessica Collado’s Carabosse.
Collado makes a striking entrance, one as dramatic as her black, snake-adorned tutu, shimmering with envy-green accents – just one of Desmond Heeley’s many decadent costume designs. As Carabosse, Collado seems to relish her bad girl turn, as does the audience.
This is one of those shows where it feels like everyone has something to do, which means the company gets put to good use, starting with Natalie Varnum, Tyler Donatelli, Alyssa Springer, Sayako Toku and Jacquelyn Long who play Allinson-Kuhns’ posse of fairy friends.
The five fairy variations of the prologue are a bit of a marvel in how well drawn and distinct each is within their brief dances. With Varnum’s expressive arms, Donatelli’s sprightly footwork, Springer’s fizzy energy, Toku’s smile- and laugh-inducing charm, and Long’s theatricality, they each embody a special uniqueness that’s a pleasure to watch.
Since I haven’t mentioned it yet, this ballet is about three hours long. That’s one prologue, three acts, and three intermissions. From my vantage point, a handful of folks tapped out during the third intermission, which means, unfortunately for them, they missed the divertissements of Act III — specifically, Aurora and Florimund’s exquisite grand pas de deux, a splendid pas de quatre and the crowd-pleasing appearance of folks from the fairy-tale character shared universe.
First up were Sharratt as Puss-in-Boots, from Perrault’s eponymous fairy tale, paired with Madame d’Aulnoy’s The White Cat, danced by Varnum.
“This is so weird,” said a voice in the crowd of Sharratt and Varnum’s mischievous duet. And before you think it an insult, it was said through an obvious smile. Theirs is a slinky and adversarial partnering that is, in fact, weird in the best way. Varnum preens while Sharratt gets a little too familiar (and is promptly smacked for it) and yes, their dance aptly includes a series of pas de chat.
Simone Acri is The Blue Bird, another pull from the work of Madame d’Aulnoy, and dances opposite Toku as Princess Florine. Acri, in eye-catching blue feathers and eye shadow, makes good use of the character’s flashy, show-off solo, but it’s his work with Toku that lingers, especially the seamless way he twisted her up and onto his shoulder.
Finally, The Ivans – Rench Soriano, Masanori Takiguchi, and Elivelton Tomazi – straight out of a Russian folk tale appear for a brief, high-energy trio filled to the brim with squat kicks, leg sweeps, and lofty split jumps.
Less dance-y but equally important is the comic relief offered by Samuel Rodriguez and Jack Wolff, as well as the special appearances of Houston Ballet alums James Nelson and Lauren Anderson as King Florestan XXIV and The Queen, which earned an enthusiastic round of applause. Also receiving a warm welcome was Ermanno Florio, who returned as guest conductor of the Houston Ballet Orchestra.
In passing, I’ve already mentioned Scenic and Costume Designer Desmond Heeley, but his work deserves a few more words. This production is stunning, chocked full of detail and gorgeous set pieces (like the sky-high fountain in the first act) and tutus as far as the eye can see, all dramatically lit by Duane Schuler, whose designs are recreated here by Lisa J. Pinkham.
The production was not entirely without its faults. One is its length, though you will certainly be rewarded if you stick through the inevitable lulls. But the second was a little out-of-character wobbliness that appeared repeatedly throughout the performance. A curtain hiccup here, a half-completed leap there. An awkward catch here, shakiness there. You don’t usually see it, and it was a bit too noticeable to totally dismiss, but I would chalk it up simply to an off night. That said, if this is what an off night looks like for the Houston Ballet, we should all be so lucky.
Ultimately, few can resist the promise of the fairytale, the “once upon a time” and the “happily ever after.” And in the hands of Houston Ballet, you won’t want to.
Performances will continue at 7:30 p.m. Fridays, 1:30 and 7:30 p.m. Saturdays, and 2 p.m. Sundays through March 23 at Wortham Theater Center, 501 Texas. For more information, call 713-227-2787 or visit houstonballet.org. $25-$167.
