Raymonda Revival

Asami Maki’s 2004 reworking of Marius Pepita’s “Raymonda” for the National Ballet of Japan dials up the wow-factor at every level. We expect to be wowed by the famous choreography, but not the scenario. A stereotypical damsel in distress, long considered problematic with its blatant Orientalism and lack of dramatic tension, recent attempts to update the ballet tend towards a complete overhaul. But Maki’s version, in revival last week in Tokyo, surprisingly leans into the stereotypes. The result is a surreal, fantastical vision of courtly love that somehow ups the glamour of the dance while rendering the scenario itself a complex metaphor that I’m still unpacking.

Performance

National Ballet of Japan: “Raymonda” by Asami Maki after Marius Petipa

Place

New National Theater Tokyo, Tokyo, Japan, April 26, 2026

Words

Kris Kosaka

Saho Shibayama and Shun Izawa in the National Ballet of Japan's “Raymonda” by Asami Maki. Photograph by Hidemi Seto, Courtesy of the National Ballet of Japan

Alexander Glazunov’s dreamy score matches the fantastical unreality, but it is Luisa Spinatelli’s spellbinding costume and design that truly brings this surreal vision to life. The drop curtain, a faux medieval tapestry, uses clever lighting to render it transparent, becoming our window to the stage throughout the performance. The authentic medieval broken-chin style is both gorgeous and strangely akimbo. With the ceremonial unfurling of the infamous Cross of St. George flag to end the prologue, there’s another subtle nod to fractured realities. It billows across the stage, a pristine whiteness that suddenly bleeds into a swath of scarlet dipped in blood, the view of both conqueror and conquered at once. These twists occur throughout, abstract shifts of perspective in the tilted architecture and skewed backdrops.

For a while, the obvious allegory freed me to thrill unreservedly to Pepita’s infamous choreography, most deserving of every accolade. More on that later. First, Maki cleverly sets up the allegory as a contrast between idealized love and reckless passion. Raymonda (Saho Shibayama) is caught between these extremes. In the reworked prologue, Seductive Saracen prince Abderakhman (Takuro Watanabe, outstanding in his debut for the role) watches broodingly as a delicate Shibayama bids a chaste adieu to her betrothed, the French knight, Jean de Brienne (Shun Izawa). The two even glimmer in idealized unison, Shibayama clothed in gold, Izawa in silver. His parting gift—a white scarf —is a proper, courtly remembrance.

Watanabe as Abderakhman, in contrast, is an exotic, flamboyant outsider, bursting with his passion for Raymonda every time he appears. Watanabe plays the role with not even a hint of villainy. His stereotype is romantic fire, a perfect foil to Izawa, who personifies the lofty Christian hero to cool perfection, symbolically worshipped in a lifesized portrait for most of Act One and Two.

Shun Izawa in the National Ballet of Japan's “Raymonda” by Asami Maki. Photograph by Hidemi Seto, Courtesy of the National Ballet of Japan

And now to the choreography: the opulent pageantry of the court ensembles, the charming opening solo of Shibayama, scooping up flowers with fluttery bourrées soars into the flowing precision of the ballerinas and powerful male turns of Raymonda’s four devoted friends, impressively danced throughout by Honoka Kinjo and Yuzuki Hanagata as Clemence and Heriette/ Kosuke Morimoto and Mizuki Nakajima as Beranger and Bernard.

Later, Raymonda’s joyful facade segues to her fears and longing when alone, in a solo with the scarf that further showcases Shibayama’s stunning technique. The Valse Fantastique is also excellent as Izawa steps out of his gilded portrait, leading Shibayama to a world of lush fantasy. Their glorious pas de deux morphs to a whirling of the corps in contagious, spinning leaps across the stage, all truly wow-exponential. The two variations danced by Yui Negishi and Suzu Yamamoto also deserve mention as masterclasses in technique.

The unrelentingly impressive choreography continues in Act Two, a symbolic culture war of dance. Shibayama’s Raymonda also subtly captures her growing internal dilemma while externally all is courtly grandeur. Her devotion to de Brienne is increasingly tempted by the verve and joy in Abderakhman/ Watanabe’s seductions. He uses charm, precious gifts and gaiety—introducing the Saracens and the Spanish in feisty, somewhat too exaggerated character dances—as Shibayama artfully eludes him, like a proper maiden should.

Saho Shibayama and Shun Izawa in the National Ballet of Japan's “Raymonda” by Asami Maki. Photograph by Hidemi Seto, Courtesy of the National Ballet of Japan

Her four devoted friends also run interference to keep them apart, their finely tuned pas de six one of my favorite sequences. But Abderakhman promises so much, especially in his seductive, powerful solo—another absolute marvel, although too short. As the excitement onstage reaches a zenith, his entreaties finally work, and Raymonda is his—until suddenly, not. A ruthless killing from the knight de Brienne, and Abderakhman’s body solemnly carried offstage shattered the illusion, a shocking event even if the audience anticipates it.

Act Threee unfolds as a wedding should, full of uncomplicated joy. Although still jarred, it’s impossible not to eventually sink into the dance, the csárdás and mazurka, the skill and elegance of the Grand Pas Classique Variation. But I longed for something more complicated than a stereotypical happy bride in Shibayama/ Raymonda’s last characterizations.

Utterly awed in the moment by the choreographic glow, this “Raymonda” nevertheless looked clearly through the tapestry, their broken-chins full of shifty-eyed humanity, portraying a bitter reality despite its idealized facade. I’m left pondering the beautiful ugliness of the human condition. Maki’s “Raymonda” is a production I must see again.

Kris Kosaka

Kris Kosaka is a writer and educator based in Kamakura, Japan. A lifelong ballet fan and studio rat in her youth, she's been contributing to the Japan Times since 2009. She writes across culture, but especially in dance, opera and literature.

comments

Featured

REVIEWS | Victoria Looseleaf

Into the Spirit World

Men: You can’t live with ‘em, and you can’t let ‘em die! Seriously, “Giselle,” the über-Romantic dance that premiered in Paris in 1841 and was the peak of the pre-Tchaikovsky ballets (before, for example, “Swan Lake”), was first presented by Los Angeles Ballet in its fifth season.

REVIEWS | Karen Greenspan

Stepping Out of the Ring

What gives a dance staying power? What makes any work of art continue to be relevant over time? These are questions I pondered while revisiting Andrea Miller’s “Blush,” performed by her company, Gallim, at 92NY’s Harkness Mainstage Series this spring.