Romeo & Juliet Redux

This is decidedly not your mother’s “Romeo and Juliet.” Indeed, Benjamin Millepied’s “Romeo & Juliet Suite,” choreographed for the superb members of his L.A. Dance Project, featured a female duo (Daphne Fernberger and Nayomi Van Brunt) in the titular roles at the Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts on Thursday. This was the first of four performances that also featured a male duo, as well as the traditional heterosexual pairing, with much of the action captured through projections from a Steadicam while the cast traversed different areas of the theater.

Performance

L.A. Dance Project: “Romeo & Juliet Suite,” choreography by Benjamin Millepied

Place

Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts, Beverly Hills, California, October 10-12, 2024

Words

Victoria Looseleaf

Daphne Fernberger and Nayomi Van Brunt in Benjamin Millepied's “Romeo & Juliet Suite.” Photograph by Julien Benhamou

Dubbed a “Los Angeles premiere,” the 75-minute version had already been staged in Sydney, Paris and Costa Mesa, California, with segments of the work having been seen by this writer at Walt Disney Concert Hall and the Hollywood Bowl in 2018 and 2019, respectively, with Millepied then wielding the camera, and the dance accompanied by the mighty Los Angeles Philharmonic.

Thrilling then and even more so now—despite the fact that this “Suite” was set to recorded selections from Prokofiev’s 1935 gut-punching score—the work is a minimalist telling of the Bard’s tragedy that was enhanced by Sebastian Marcovici’s live videography (he’s LADP’s associate director), at the intimate venue, one that is also terrific for dance.

But if it’s scenery you want, fuhgeddaboudit, save for a fire engine red couch, which is seen at the beginning of the performance onstage, also blood-red (set design by François-Pierre Couture, who supplied the sumptuous lighting, as well), then again on video, projected onto a tomato-colored screen: Here is Fernberger lying prone on the sofa, arms extended wistfully, Van Brunt reaching towards her love.

And did someone mention costumes? Camille Assaf, in keeping with the über-modernity of the dance drama, dressed Romeo in a slinky black dress, while his/her Juliet, who actually, at times, appeared to blush, was clad in a glittery mini-frock, with the rest of the cast looking both sleek and comfortable in variations on streetwear.

L.A. Dance Project in Benjamin Millepied's “Romeo & Juliet Suite.” Photograph by Julien Benhamou

But it was the high caliber dancing that was the cherry on this legendary Shakespearean sundae. Bursting out of the gate was Shu Kinouchi, whose insanely lofty leaps and dizzying spins infused his Mercutio with non-stop jolts of bravado, while we were then privy to seeing the action unfold via the live camera feed, as the ensemble, backstage, busied themselves rifling through racks of clothes. No differentiation was made between the fractious Capulets and Montagues, save for the titular leads, but what an ensemble they were: whether moving in frenetic unisons, twirling or speeding off and onstage, terpsichorean brilliance reigned, as the troupe, founded in 2012, seemed to reach new heights, both physically and emotionally.

For those familiar with Prokofiev’s famous score, the popular “Dance of the Knights” music worked well in Millepied’s pared-down, quasi-abstract context, as the Rothko-like scarlet illumination heightened the ball scene, where masked attendees also reminded this reviewer of the orgy scene in Stanley Kubrick’s “Eyes Wide Shut.”

Here, too, was a perpetually scowling—near smirking—Tybalt (Spencer Lenain could have killed with his looks alone, his articulated footwork notwithstanding), who proved more than capable of slewing Mercutio. And with the camera amplifying both the crowd and fight scenes via overhead shots, Busby Berkleyesque patterns emerged.

Van Brunt’s gorgeous Juliet made easy work of her solos, proving pliant in her pliés and near playful as she dropped to her knees one moment, deploying fierce pirouettes the next. Of course, what is “Romeo and Juliet” without the famous balcony scene? Millepied made shrewd use of the Wallis’ outdoor garden space, after Van Brunt and Fernberger raced up the aisles, with Marcovici’s always clever camerawork tracking the doomed duo as they danced on—ouch—cement!

Nayomi Van Brunt in Benjamin Millepied's “Romeo & Juliet Suite.” Photograph by Julien Benhamou

The lights of Beverly Hills could be seen flickering in the distance, as these gals not only pranced on concrete, but laid down on the hard surface, as well. This was, if not a pas de deux for the ages, a glorious one for the twenty-first century, as, in this decidedly urban atmosphere (where they might, just possibly, be branded, well, lipstick lesbians), our R & J finally, at long last, were in the throes of a deep, passionate kiss.

When the action moved back inside, Kinouchi and ensemble member Aidan Tyssee, executed a kind of jig, before being joined by two gals, Audrey Sides and Hope Spears. This joyous feel for the music, and with hands on hips and heads cocked, was reminiscent of Agnes de Mille and her 1942 masterpiece, “Rodeo.”

But the jig, unfortunately, was up, as Tybalt slayed Mercutio, with Romeo then killing Juliet’s brutish cousin, as payback. Performed to the blare of horns that could have been scored by Hitchcock (the sonic assault conjured memories of the piercing violins from Psycho), Juliet is then left alone on stage, again performing a rapturous solo, her arched back a wonder to behold, before swallowing an elixir. No liquid potion here, but a big fat, pinkish-hued pill (a megadose of fentanyl, perhaps?), with the script, as it has over the years, dictating that Juliet fall unconscious.

The lights then dimmed and a funeral cortège—dancers, brandishing white tubes of light, marched down the aisle, with Romeo, by this time frantic, discovering Juliet’s lifeless body. In an emotional fog, he drags her in a “dancing with corpse” moment, before killing himself with a dagger, which his beloved will then use, of course, on herself upon awakening.

With exceptional dancing, including ensemble members Jeremy Coachman, Marirosa Crawford, Matisse D’Aloisio, CJ Burroughs and Brendan Evans, and the work of video artist Olivier Simola, who is credited as artistic collaborator, this production retained its beating Shakespearean heart, one shot through with eternal beauty. And while violence, warring factions and hate continue to be ever present, Millepied’s multi-prismed vision offers a new take on balletic, gender, and theatrical ideals.

Victoria Looseleaf

Victoria Looseleaf is an award-winning, Los Angeles-based international arts journalist who covers music and dance festivals around the world. Among the many publications she has contributed to are the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times, Dance Magazine and KCET’s Artbound. In addition, she taught dance history at USC and Santa Monica College. Looseleaf’s novella-in-verse, Isn't It Rich? is available from Amazon, and and her latest book, Russ & Iggy’s Art Alphabet with illustrations by JT Steiny, was recently published by Red Sky Presents. Looseleaf can be reached through X, Facebook, Instagram and Linked In, as well as at her online arts magazine ArtNowLA.

comments

Featured

REVIEWS | Gracia Haby

Star Dust

We are all of us, beings, in a constant state of continual change. We humans are a composition of oxygen, carbon, and hydrogen.

REVIEWS | Karen Hildebrand

In the Wake of Yes

The title of Catherine Tharin’s latest production, “In the Wake of Yes,” is a reference to “Molly Bloom’s Soliloquy,” an inner monologue on womanhood and sexuality, from James Joyce’s Ulysses. Tharin matches the tone of this work as she picks up on an exuberant string of “yeses” from that text. Her witty series of dances explores romance and its complications. At the center of the show is a film by Lois Robertson that lifts the dancers out of the tiny East Village stage and transports them (and us) to scenes of contemporary New York City. Tharin, who danced with the...

REVIEWS | Rebecca Deczynski

Character Act

Through its newly opened program, “Other Dances,” Dutch National Ballet kicks off the summer with a slate of lighthearted fare that varies in precise approach but altogether evokes an effervescent mood.

REVIEWS | Gracia Haby

Requiem for Humanity

Taking the historian’s long view, the message within “Last and First Men,” that “the whole duration of humanity, its evolution, and many successive species, is but a flash in the lifetime of the cosmos,” is, to me, ultimately a comfort.