The Wake

In a world of endless technological advancement and media convergence, it is refreshing to find an organization producing something of genuine beauty. One such organization is the Twin Cities Metropolitan Ballet Company. On February 10th I was fortunate enough to witness the Metropolitan Ballet’s rendition of classic Romeo and Juliet, which left audience members with a renewed sense of life.

The ballet was performed at the State Theater. Built for “Cinema,” “Opera” and “Pantomime,” as the ornamental plaques suggest, the State Theater was opened in the 1920s, during the era of silent films. Reminiscent of that time when going out was an ordeal worth primping for; the crowd at the State Theater was easy on the eyes. A little girl with a gemmed brooch in her hair who was holding a bouquet of flowers was hurried past the red shoes and slim legs of a woman in a black cocktail dress who was conversing fervently with a man in possession of a very dignified handlebar moustache. Red-cheeked bartenders sporting warm hats served drinks in the chilly entryway.

An upbeat mood carried into the beginning of the performance, where many of the townspeople were portrayed by children who made up for in sheer cuteness what they lacked in accuracy. When principles Ramon Thielen and Mifa Ko took command of the stage, however, all previous inaccuracies were overshadowed by their talent. Their dancing was beautiful in a way you don’t have to think about. Their presence captured so that nothing else existed in the moments they danced.

Thielen, originally from Venezuela, was a guest dancer with the Metropolitan ballet. He is the type of dancer who removes all misconceptions of ballet as a feminine endeavor. His Romeo was powerful in a non-stately way. His untamed masculinity played a nice contrast to Ko’s femininity.

Ko essentially made the ballet what it was. Clearly the leading dancer throughout the entire performance, she could eclipse all others with simply a faint gesture of her arm. A native of Japan, Ko has trained in many places from Monte Carlo, to Russia, to Moscow – her dancing, however, goes somewhere beyond the limits of training. Especially remarkable was her ability to be graceful one minute and sharp and angular the next. Also worth mentioning is Ko’s theatrical aptitude – her expressiveness went far beyond that of a typical ballerina.

Another memorable dancer was Vitali Krauchenka, from Belarus, – who played Tybalt. Krauchenka’s pale complexion and flaxen hair worked well with his cold portrayal of Tybalt. Also, a phenomenal dancer, he put a lot of character into his dancing, so that he resembled a soviet villain from a Bond film.

Although the audience was genuinely heartbroken in the final, fateful moments of the ballet, moods were quickly elevated when the dancers came out to bow, alive and well. The ballet was as much about the dancers themselves, it turned out, as it was about Romeo and Juliet. However, this “star system” worked for the ballet, and didn’t take away from the genuine beauty of the production. All in all, my only complaint was that the music was recorded, not live.

Compelled by the audience, the dancers bowed several times before the lights went up and the music subsided into a brief period of awkward quiet. The quiet was quickly filled once again with a warm atmosphere of chatting and laughter as families, friends and couples exited the theater. Outside the main hall, several actors were already waiting, fully costumed to meet their friends.

Happy people emerged from the glow of the theater into the dark, frosty night. Minnesotans disseminated into their real lives, looking now slightly ridiculous, instead of glamorous, their fancy clothes squeezed into parkas. It is refreshing then, to find not only an organization that produces beauty, but also so many people who desire it. If so many of us still find joy in something beautiful and pure, then maybe, all is not lost after all.