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By Sarah Kaufman Washington Post Staff Writer Saturday, October 28, 2000; Page C01
Add to that the buzz surrounding the Washington Ballet's Cuban American
director, Septime Webre--his local radio and TV interviews about the
American company's extraordinary trip to the communist nation have been
rebroadcast all week--and you have what happened Thursday night: a
near-stampede. The crush began on the sidewalk, where guards had to
guide small clumps of ticket-holders through the mob to the doors. Once
inside, it was impossible to find a program, and clambering to a seat
involved a full-body workout. This was an audience that would not be
turned away--an audience unlike any that attends ballet in
Washington. Some in the multiracial crowd were relatively dressed up
(no one here looks wealthy except the tourists) but many wore
jeans. Cubans readily pay the 5 to 20 pesos (roughly 25 cents to a dollar,
for the most expensive seats) for a live performance. That is, if tickets
are available. Night after night, the theaters around town are sold out,
particularly for productions such as the ones going on now as part of the
biennial International Ballet Festival. So while the crowd at Teatro
Mella was feistier than usual, its overflowing size was not
extraordinary. People filled the standing-room area, choked the aisles,
even crept backstage to watch--cigars in hand--much to the consternation
of the dancers, who had to wade through the onlookers to make their
entrances. Just before the curtain rose, Ballet Nacional de Cuba
founder Alicia Alonso arrived, looking like Norma Desmond of "Sunset
Boulevard" with her hair pulled back under a tight scarf, heavy makeup and
oversize sunglasses shielding sightless eyes. (She has been blind for
decades.) A national heroine, she received a standing ovation. The
crowd was pumped when Webre came out to give his speech about reaching out
to the audience as a brother and the unifying power of art. But a slight
slumping was noticeable during the first two pieces on the program,
Spanish choreographer Nacho Duato's "Na Floresta" and the intricate and
lyrical duet from Antony Tudor's "The Leaves Are Fading." Neither was well
served by the acoustics, and the repetitive Duato seemed to
drag. Yet the two final pieces, Trey McIntyre's "Blue Until
June" and Webre's "Mercedes y Betty," delivered everything this crowd
wanted: an emotionally rich musical experience, and in the highly
acrobatic dancing, all the caffeine of a Cuban espresso. McIntyre's work
featured songs made famous by Etta James, sung by E. Faye Butler and the
Havana Ensemble, a local group of musicians conducted by Fred Irby II of
the Howard University Jazz Ensemble. Webre's work, inspired by
family stories of Cuba in the '20s and '30s, was set to such well-known
Cuban songs as "Chan Chan" and "Dos Gardenias." It brought the audience to
its feet for a loud and lengthy ovation. "Fabuloso," pronounced
Alicia Leal, a prominent Cuban painter who says she comes to the ballet
every night she can with her teenage daughter, a ballet student. Leal said
it was the live music and Butler's voice that made "Blue Until June" her
favorite: "That American music from the South--it's very strong, very new
to us. It communicates something special." Backstage, Webre, his
white guayabera shirt damp with sweat, credited his dancers with locking
onto the Cuban psyche. "The dancers' connection with the audience was like
this"--he interlocked his fingers. "They hooked on and never let go." |