In his recent review of the latest DVD release of Minkus’s 
                  most popular ballet Don Quixote (see 
                  here), my colleague Dan Morgan opined that he “wouldn’t 
                  mind if [he] never saw Minkus’ La Bayadère 
                  again”. While I think he was probably just having a bit 
                  of fun with his readers, it’s certainly true that La 
                  Bayadère (“The temple dancer”) doesn’t 
                  have the earlier ballet’s endless vitality and joie 
                  de vivre and - with the heroine killed by a snake-bite and 
                  the hero ultimately crushed by a collapsing giant Buddha - it’s 
                  not an entertainment that’s likely to send audiences flooding 
                  out of the auditorium with wide grins on their faces. 
                    
                  It is, nonetheless, a work that’s been welcomed back with 
                  open arms since it first began reappearing in the repertoire 
                  of western ballet companies fifty years ago. And anyone who 
                  assumes, on the basis of Tchaikovsky’s scores, that all 
                  ballets revolve around swans, magic spells, glittering fairies, 
                  beautiful sleeping princesses, subversive rodent armies, kingdoms 
                  of sweets and kitchen implements that are suddenly transmogrified 
                  into handsome princes, will find it a real eye-opener. For La 
                  Bayadère actually has an almost believable story 
                  behind it - one that features very human characters who, even 
                  if they do happen to be rajahs, brahmins, half-naked fakirs, 
                  temple dancing girls and the like, exhibit such realistic human 
                  emotions as lust, jealousy and tranfiguring love. And let me 
                  pre-empt anyone who points out that La Bayadère’s 
                  most famous set-piece, The Kingdom of the Shades, features 
                  some 32 (or 24 in this production) very fanciful and un-human 
                  ghostly spirits of dead girls, by observing that they appear 
                  merely as imaginary figments in an opium-induced dream rather 
                  than as real characters in the drama. The ballet’s plot 
                  is, in fact, an altogether “operatic” one and the 
                  characters and their predicaments - very reminiscent of Aïda 
                  - would certainly have appealed to Verdi, even if the exotic 
                  setting might put one more in mind of Meyerbeer or Delibes. 
                  
                    
                  One important point to note is that this DVD features Natalia 
                  Makarova’s performing version of La Bayadère, 
                  originally seen in New York a decade earlier and notable for 
                  its recreation of the ballet’s lost final act that features 
                  that collapsing giant Buddha. Anyone, therefore, who has seen 
                  live performances by the Bolshoi or Mariinsky companies - both 
                  presented in London in recent years - or the Paris Opera Ballet’s 
                  production, either live or on DVD (NVC Arts / Warner Music Vision 
                  4509-96851-2) will be in for the very pleasant bonus of an extra 
                  21 or so extra minutes, even though they’ll be missing 
                  out on Act 2’s spectacular romp of an “Indian Dance” 
                  that Ms Makarova chose to jettison. This reconstructed final 
                  Act, set to music specially put together by John Lanchbery who 
                  also conducts the performance, rounds off the story in a far 
                  more emotionally satisfying way and has since been widely adopted 
                  by many ballet companies. 
                    
                  The dancing of the principal soloists is quite simply superb. 
                  Altynai Asylmuratova conveys in every technically assured movement 
                  the emotion that Nikiya is feeling, ranging from ecstatic, impulsive 
                  young love to the darkest despair that leads her to reject an 
                  antidote to the fatal snake venom. The role of her lover, the 
                  warrior Solor, is danced by Irek Mukhamedov who combines obvious 
                  physical strength and crowd-pleasing showmanship with great 
                  artistry. If, however, the 1991 Covent Garden audience offer 
                  unsinted admiration to those two Soviet-trained dancers, they 
                  reserve their real affection for the home company’s very 
                  own Darcey Bussell. In her portrayal of the rajah’s daughter 
                  Gamzatti who will stop at nothing - murder included - to ensure 
                  that Solor will marry her and not the humble dancer, she successfully 
                  matches the considerable talents of Asylmuratov and Mukhamedov. 
                  
                    
                  Anthony Dowell makes a truly flesh-creeping High Brahmin. David 
                  Drew looks very much like one imagines a rajah ought to look, 
                  even though there is little for him to do apart from appearing 
                  generically regal (so much so, that when, in the final reconstructed 
                  act, he actually gets to catch and partner Gamzatti for a few 
                  steps, it comes as quite a surprise.) The very brief but crowd-pleasing 
                  role of the Bronze Idol usually brings the house down and here, 
                  with Tetsuya Kumakawa in the role, we have no exception. The 
                  Covent Garden corps de ballet was not, in 1991, the best 
                  drilled (the rival DVD that I mentioned earlier demonstrates 
                  that the 1994 vintage Paris Opera Ballet standards were markedly 
                  higher) and that detracts somewhat from the viewer’s enjoyment, 
                  especially in The Kingdom of the Shades where, as the 
                  Russian companies invariably demonstrate, complete precision 
                  is and ought to be all. Conductor John Lanchbery knows Minkus’s 
                  score inside out, of course, and gives it, whether movingly 
                  sentimental melody or music-hall rum-ti-tumming, a fine outing. 
                  Derek Bailey’s direction is utterly sympathetic to the 
                  attractively exotic production, with well chosen camera angles 
                  and cuts, but the fact that this was originally a TV broadcast 
                  and is now 20 years old is apparent in the absence of the sort 
                  of pin-sharp images that we expect to see today. 
                    
                  This particular production has also done the rounds before. 
                  The copy that I have had for some years was issued in 2003 on 
                  the TDK label (DV-BLLB) and that, in conjunction with the very 
                  different Paris Opera Ballet version - and maybe the old Kirov 
                  production featuring Komleva, Abdyev and Terekhova (Kultur DVD 
                  D1113) - was probably enough at the time. There are now, though, 
                  two more recent productions available, both offering Makarova’s 
                  extended version: Zakharova, Bolle and Brusson at La Scala (TDK 
                  DVWW-BLLBSC) and a new Royal Opera House DVD starring Rojo, 
                  Acosta and Nuñez (Opus Arte OA 1043 D). I would be happy 
                  with either - or, preferably, both! 
                    
                  What I would really love to see, though, is the legendary 
                  1941 Soviet art deco production that starred Natalia 
                  Dudinskaya as Nikiya and Vakhtang Chabukiani as Solor. You can 
                  catch a glimpse of them in action - and, in the case of the 
                  amazingly fleet of foot Chabukiani, that certainly does mean 
                  action! - here. 
                  I think that if that production were available in full, 
                  even Dan Morgan might be happy to see La Bayadère 
                  once again! 
                    
                  Rob Maynard