Transformed into a Wili, the Slavic term for “vampire,” or, perhaps more pointedly, a “jilted damsel,” Giselle is now in the realm of a moonlit forest, with Myrtha, their queen, reigning supreme over her charges in Act II, Farmer’s set suitably misty-esque. Aviva Gelfer-Mundl was up to the severity task as she owned the stage, her diva-like presence injecting both fear and bravado into her squadron of dead, but well-shod brides, Nathan W. Scheuer’s lighting aptly ethereal. And whether drifting across the floor on pointe, executing lovely quarter turns or decreeing Giselle to dance her lover to death, Gelfer-Mundl embodied Myrtha’s wraithlike evil. 

Here, too, did some 20 gals move mostly in unison, seemingly floating forward, their lovely arms extending through arabesques, Adam’s score blissfully crescendo-ing, with particular standouts including Paige Wilkey and Julianne Kinasiewicz as Demi Willis. But these spirit gals are, as it happens, relentless, ordering Hilarion, who has wandered into the forest, to dance until he succumbs to death. 

With the sun rising as morn approaches, the forest-dwelling Willis lose their powers, ceding the boneyard to our death-besotted couple. Giselle, doing a bit of unwanted traveling in her turns, still seemed to float in her pointe work, while Ramirez, placing a bouquet of lilies at the tiniest of graves, was an able soloist, ultimately deploying entrechats, jetés and cabrioles with swagger. 

With her wispy, willowy countenance and his eventual salvation, this story of love, betrayal and redemption—continues to captivate. Sure, the ballet may be old-fashioned, surreal and far-fetched, but it still has the power to enchant. And while L.A. Ballet’s final performance of its season may have had a few flaws, it was a perfect respite from the real world. Here, then, is to the company’s next 20 years!