BALLET REVIEW : Canadians Dance Cranko’s ‘Onegin’

Los Angeles first gushed and sighed over John Cranko’s “Eugene Onegin,” courtesy of the Stuttgart Ballet, in 1969. That was four years after the world premiere. The German company brought this saggy but undeniably effective saga back to Shrine Auditorium in 1971 and to the Pavilion in 1980.

Thursday night at the Civic Theatre, the National Ballet of Canada cranked out a virtually identical production to inaugurate a three-stop tour of Southern California. The next stops, not incidentally, will be Pasadena Civic Auditorium (Monday-June 5) and the Orange County Performing Arts Center (June 7-12).

The protagonist’s Anglicized first name has been removed from the title. Otherwise, not much has changed over the years in this pretty, passionate and unabashedly old-fashioned narrative opus.

Still, there are some inevitable interpretive differences between the two editions of this mock-Russian extravaganza. The echt -German original evolved with the South African choreographer present to shape every gesture. The Canadian version was cloned in 1984--11 years after Cranko’s death--by Reid Anderson, who had been cast both as Gremin and Onegin in Stuttgart.

Even at their best, the Stuttgarters used to dance untidily, but they projected the operatic drama of the hand-me-down Pushkin libretto with blazing intensity. In those days, we had faces.

Marcia Haydee broke all hearts with her wildly feverish Tatiana. The glacial elegance of Heinz Clauss’ Onegin masked pathetic desperation. Egon Madsen’s Lensky glowed with poetic ardor.

The Torontonians stress the movement rather than the message. Technically, they dance “Onegin” much better than their predecessors could, but they tend either to understate or to generalize the drama.

Under the circumstances, one becomes doubly conscious of the sterility of the late Kurt-Heinz Stolze’s ersatz -Tchaikovsky score. The clever pastiche merely illustrates the action it should be propelling.

One also sees, all too clearly, how much padding and how little actual dancing the choreographic scheme contains. Cranko’s primary concern here seemed to be story-telling, with bravura accents.

That does not preclude appreciation of the athletic daring in the convoluted duets for Onegin and Tatiana, or the perky lyricism in the simpler duets for Lensky and Olga. There is a certain compulsion in the grandiose kitsch of the mime episodes. If nothing else, Cranko knew how to please the masses.

The first of several Canadian casts was dominated by Veronica Tennant. She is not the most impetuous or most heroic Tatiana one can imagine. One longs to see Natalia Makarova in the role, a luxury that the management happens to be reserving for New York. Still, Tennant is never less than tasteful and intelligent, often more.

She manages to be demure and shy in the early episodes without cloying. She literally throws herself into Onegin’s arms with compulsive abandon in the letter scene. In the finale she conveys the pain of self-denial with noble resignation. Pacing herself carefully, she traces the evolution of the character with deft, sensitive strokes.

Raymond Smith partners her sympathetically, apart from a few tentative lifts in the mirror pas de deux. Although he executes his underdeveloped solos with youthful panache, he fails to convey much of Onegin’s erotic allure or worldly ennui.

Jeremy Ransom is a virtuosic but somewhat vacant Lensky. Cynthia Lucas introduces a stock-sweet Olga, and Tomas Schramek resembles a juvenile in elder-statesman’s clothing as Gremin.

The women of the corps perform with unified finesse, the men with brio. It is a special joy to find major artists such as Charles Kirby and Hazaros Surmeyan enriching the texture of the crowd at Tatiana’s birthday party.

The gauzy, eminently functional sets designed for the 1969 Stuttgart tour by Jurgen Rose continue to exert their sentimental appeal. However, the lighting scheme, attributed to Sholem Dolgoy, does not seem to have traveled well.

Barry Wordsworth does what can be done with the recycled Tchaikovsky in the pit. The excellent orchestra, a combination of Canadian and local players, responds accordingly.

The opening-night audience was surprisingly small, predictably enthusiastic.