Choreographer Sir Frederick Ashton was born in September
                    1904, so it was always likely that the Royal Ballet – of
                    which he was Director for most of the 1960s – would take
                    the opportunity to celebrate his centenary with revivals
                        of some of his best works.
                    
                     
                    
                    My colleague Ian Lace has already given a very warm welcome
                        to Opus Arte’s DVD of the 2005 revival of Ashton’s 1952
                        production of Delibes’s 
Sylvia (
see
                        review). Now this new release, from the same television/DVD
                        producers, is likely to offer just as much – if not more – pleasure
                        to admirers of both the choreographer and several of
                        the Royal Ballet’s most accomplished artistes.
                     
                    
The origins of the score are somewhat obscure. The earliest
                        music – dating from 1789 - was cobbled together by an
                        unknown hand from a variety of popular melodies. But
                        by 1828 it was considered sufficiently dated for Ferdinand
                        Hérold to be commissioned to rearrange and supplement
                        it, using not just his own material but also unauthorized
                        extracts from pieces by Donizetti, Rossini and others. 
                     
                    
Hérold’s score held the field for less than 40 years, though,
                        before it in turn was considered so old-fashioned that
                        it was superseded by one penned by Peter Ludwig Hertel.
                        Thus, from the 1860s onwards, it was Hertel’s music – at
                        various times added to substantially by Drigo, Pugni,
                        Minkus and Delibes, not to mention Anton Rubinstein and
                        a certain Johann Armsheimer – that was associated with
                        the 
La fille mal gardée story
.
                     
                    Had Ashton had a grander conception for his planned 1960 Covent
                        Garden production, he might well have used the by now
                        traditional Hertel score. But instead he envisaged a
                        simple, pastoral, light-hearted and pastel-shaded interpretation
                        of the old story – Watteau rather than Winterhalter.
                        Thus, having retrieved Hérold’s long-neglected music
                        from the archives, he asked John Lanchbery to edit and
                        re-orchestrate it. [Ironically enough, a single bit of
                        Hertel did eventually find its way into the new version
                        and, as the theme of the famous clog dance, can be heard
                        in one of the ballet’s best loved episodes!]
 
                     
                    La fille mal gardée – yet another story of young lovers
                        thwarting an ambitious parent’s plan to marry off one
                        of them to a far wealthier suitor - is now considered
                        the quintessential Ashton ballet and is certainly the
                        best loved. The choreography’s apparent - but not actual!
                        - simplicity and its sheer 
joie de vivre work
                        in perfect harmony with the undemanding light-hearted
                        story and the tuneful 1828 score to ensure that audiences
                        invariably leave the theatre with faces wreathed in smiles.
                        That would certainly have been so as patrons left the
                        Royal Opera House on 2 February 2005 – and thankfully
                        the BBC’s cameras were there to record the occasion.
                     
                    
While not having any great emotional depths to plumb in their
                        roles, attractive and charismatic soloists Marianela
                        Nuñez and Carlos Acosta are utterly convincing as youthful
                        lovers. She is an exceptionally pretty girl, whereas
                        he is the epitome of a virile and handsome young swain.
                        Moreover, unlike many ballet productions, this is one
                        case where the protagonists look genuinely and appropriately
                        young. In fact, Nuñez was, at the time, just 23 and the
                        Royal Ballet’s youngest Principal – though mere youth
                        was clearly no handicap as she received, that same year,
                        the Best Female Dancer accolade in the Critics’ Circle
                        National Dance Awards. Acosta, though actually nine years
                        older, makes an ideal visual match – as his many admirers
                        will certainly testify.
                     
                    
The pair are also very well matched as dancers and offer well-nigh
                        perfect interpretations and performances. Ashton’s choreography
                        may not offer too much in the way of flashy opportunities
                        to bring down the house, but it is sufficiently taxing
                        to require the dancers to demonstrate complete concentration
                        and immaculate technique. Both are in clear evidence
                        here.
                     
                    
As Widow Simone, the domineering mother determined to engineer
                        an advantageous – if loveless – marriage for her daughter,
                        William Tuckett plays the role for laughs. In full pantomime
                        dame mode and equipped with a range of wonderfully exaggerated
                        facial expressions, he certainly succeeds. He can, though,
                        dance too – although I would have liked to have 
heard the
                        clack-clack of his clogs more clearly over the orchestra,
                        so as to emphasize his skillful footwork in the famous
                        highlight solo. 
                     
                    
Jonathan Howells’s interpretation of Alain, Widow Simone’s
                        preferred rich-but-dim suitor for her daughter, is again
                        strong on comedy but he also conveys an air of pathos
                        that adds considerably to the role and was clearly appreciated
                        by the Covent Garden audience.
                     
                    
The production keeps the 
corps de ballet especially
                        busy portraying various types of cheerful, good natured
                        country folk. These are remarkably sophisticated rustics,
                        however – at least when it comes to their ability to
                        interpret Ashton’s intricate, fluid patterns on stage.
                        The maypole dance preceding the storm that brings the
                        first act to a close - itself a striking 
coup de théâtre -
                        offers an excellent example of the company’s strength
                        in full ensemble, as does the exuberant finale to the
                        whole ballet. 
                     
                    
Meanwhile, conductor Anthony Twiner directs
                        an appropriately jaunty and light-hearted account of
                        the score and the Covent Garden orchestra responds with
                        aplomb throughout.
                     
                    
The set is from designs by Osbert Lancaster
                        who was, at that time well-known as a professional cartoonist
                        for the 
Daily Express. Its simple, cartoon-like
                        qualities and the exaggeratedly clichéd French peasant
                        costumes also fit the mood of this delightful production
                        perfectly and add measurably to its already considerable
                        charm and appeal. 
                    
 
                    
                    Rob Maynard