Le Coq D'Or

-->

Having heard and read good things about The Royal Danish Ballet’s production of ‘Le Coq D’or’ (‘The Golden Cockerel’ or ‘Den gyldene hane’ in Danish), I thought I should go over to the Opera House and have a look for myself.  I had some reservations I admit, but it is often interesting to see an old piece revived and I had also heard positive things about the choreographer, Alexei Ratmansky.

The ballet was originally staged in 1914, choreographed by Fokine for the Ballets Russes.  This production was a danced interpretation of the Rimsky-Korsakov's opera of the same name, with the dancers accompanied by a chorus and solo singers.  The piece was revived in 1937 as a dance only work for the Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo.

The ballet opens at the court of Tsar Dodon.  He, along with his sons, Guidon and Afron, are not the best military strategists.  During this first section, the two sons challenge each other, dancing a comedic piece full of wonderful batterie (we were sitting in the second circle quite high up and could hear the beats of one of the dancers!).  A mysterious astrologer arrives, cloaked in black, with a gift of a golden cockerel that has the magical ability to warn the Tsar should the enemy approach.   The gift comes with a condition – that when the time comes, the astrologer can have anything from Dodon that he wishes.  The enemy approaches, and the sons go off with the army and succeed only in killing each other.  

Dodon is seduced by the Queen of Shemakhan, and he brings her home as his bride.  However, the astrologer also falls for the Queen and claims her as his reward.  Dodon kills the astrologer, and he in turn is pecked to death by the cockerel.  I have to say it is a bit of a complicated plot to follow if you haven’t read the synopsis first.  The two key female roles of the cockerel and queen are the only ones danced en pointe.  The night we were there we saw Shelby Elsbree as the cockerel and Amy Watson as the Queen, both of whom were excellent, in particular Watson who exhibited flair and panache.  Both these parts are technically quite demanding and are a contrast to some of the more comedy elements of the piece.

 The costumes and sets, designed by Richard Hudson, were in bright, vibrant colours and clearly inspired by the original designs by Natalia Goncherova (picture below).  The chorus of gossiping peasant women resembled matryoshka dolls and the soldiers, well, like something from a children’s picture book.

 

It is a curious ballet and to be honest I don’t know what I think about it.  It was a strange mix of magic, drama and comedy, but I am very glad I went to see a bit of history adapted for the present day.  The choreography fitted extremely well and the dancers exhibited an energy I haven’t seen in the company for some time.  All in all, I would say that the piece suited the company well, but I did not come away saying ‘that was wonderful’.