I accidentally deleted this post while working on the site, so this is a re-loaded version. The original one dates 14 Jul 2013.
I've been enthusing about this on twitter for so long that I thought I
might as well write a proper blog entry about the ballet I saw last
weekend. I'm not usually a ballet person since for some reason words
tend to do more for me than sounds or pictures. But Krabat is
based on a much-loved children's book by one of my childhood heroes,
Otfried Preußler, who gave us so many unforgettable characters like Räuber Hotzenplotz, Die kleine Hexe, Der kleine Wassermann, and Krabat, which is closer to YA than children's literature, so I thought, why not give it a try?
Based on a Sorbian fairy tale and set in 16th-century Saxony, Krabat is
an orphan who travels the area with a group of other beggar boys, when
he finds himself mysteriously drawn to a mill in a valley, where he
begins an apprenticeship. He soon notices that milling isn't the only
craft he is going to learn at this particular mill and he joins the
other journeymen and apprentices at night, practising Black Magic under
the miller's guidance. The twelve turn themselves into ravens for these
sessions.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglC7BYn8Uwb_Cs88ab0BbVqi7OvaAEl-PhK-yXmgqR3FAjs9ATsqvS45kkSL33Nykcgg4ZixiTRgUml22j-JK8GXiMk5SN1Cu2vh9tG06j1l1DNuPkwXQFVYaSNqUAsYp9n4mBryVYXbrP/s1600/krabat3_012.jpg)
Planning revenge for his friends' deaths, Krabat wants to become the
best pupil of them all. Juri, the apparent idiot cook in the mill, warns
Krabat and reveals to him that he will only manage to stay alive by
acting dumb like he himself does. The two of them secretly train
together to challenge the Master at the end of the year, and Juri
discovers that Krabat's love for a girl from the village, Kantorka
(meaning "little chorister" in Sorbian), increases his resistance to
magic.
Kantorka agrees to ask for Krabat's release on New Year's Eve, in the
full knowledge that if she fails the Master's test they both are going
to die. Before they can execute this plan, however, the Master offers
Krabat the inheritance of the mill and of the pact with the devil. Yet
Krabat turns down this offer, as he doesn't want to be responsible for
other people's deaths in order to keep his magical powers.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhdYLfWfwz_oSSljHDC8dmo_V7kI2mnCm4tbqt-LQW3EXii2gYoVkgSqOrmnP8eK_Kw15hMAOLlvtVscQDLsHOvTKoYC7_TQ6dhdXHTDrwmSp3ebZTgWcUTKEkMknytHOOW1VBiMDyTWt/s1600/krabat3_273.jpg)
The fairytale elements of the story already evoke fairly strong visuals,
as any 10-year old who's read the book will tell you. What turns this
production into a complete success is the combination of the strong
design of set and costumes by Katharina Schlipf with Demis Volpi's
choreography that really manages to communicate character and emotion.
The mill consists entirely of high walls of flour sacks and catches the
claustrophobic atmosphere of the Master's realm. They seriously limit
the dancers' space and particularly in the big scenes with all
apprentices present there is hardly enough room for them all to move,
let alone jump, which sometimes feels a shame. What fascinated me most,
though, were the raven costumes. Elongating the dancers' arms to twice
their normal length and fitted with five different kinds of real
feathers as well as synthetic ones, the wings worked incredibly well in
the choreography.
A second lucky idea was the Master's long, black coat. (Yes, Sherlock fans will see what I mean.) Apart from being absolutely awesome, this coat was also used to signify the Master's power and position in the mill. When he offers Krabat to succeed him as miller, he hands over his coat, and Krabat literally picks up the mantle, tries it on and - in a long solo dance scene - fights the coat that attempts to take possession of him.
It
is exactly the economy behind decisions like these that makes the
production so powerful. There are no special effects necessary to evoke
the dark magical world of the mill; music, light, costumes, and
choreography lead the audience through the story of the Sorbian orphan
turned wizard.
One thing I should add is that I was able to see Krabat for free and
open air - the performance was broadcast live from the Opernhaus to the
park in front of it, where the audience could follow the music and
action on a massive LED screen, while tending to their picknicks and
sipping chilled wine. The close-ups of the dancers added considerably to
the experience - one which you can never have up in the gods. So, thank
you, Stuttgarter Ballett im Park - more like this, anytime!
P.S.: There's one point of critique - the depiction of the choir
girls... well, that could have been less stereotypical. If the Master is
eventually defeated by strong women (there's a lengthy magical battle
between him and another Master, who's a proper kick-ass young woman;
plus the devil is female), why stage the choir girls all the time en
point and going through Ballet routines whereas the rest of the cast is
allowed to have a bit of fun?
More info:
- Krabat will return to Stuttgart next January, booking is open until March 2014: http://www.stuttgarter-ballett.de/spielplan/krabat/
- Here's the link to the official trailer, which also gives a fairly good insight into the music composed for the ballet: http://www.stuttgarter-ballett.de/spielplan/krabat/trailer/
- Krabat was first published in 1971 and translated into English as The Satanic Mill, then as The Curse of the Darkling Mill and, finally, as Krabat in 2011.
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