Through Enamel Eyes

I have a confession. Until last week, I had never seen “Coppélia.” I know the story well, however, and a young me performed many approximations of Swanilda’s role alone in my bedroom, thanks to a beloved and well-worn copy of The Illustrated Book of Ballet Stories, a book and cassette combo narrated by Darcey Bussell.

Performance

New York City Ballet: “Coppélia” by George Balanchine and Alexandra Danilova

Place

David H. Koch Theater, Lincoln Center, New York, NY, September 2024

Words

Sophie Bress

Megan Fairchild and Robert La Fosse in “Coppélia” by George Balanchine and Alexandra Danilova. Photograph by Erin Baiano

Growing up in Wyoming, I didn’t have many opportunities to watch ballet or live theater. This meant, for me, lots of self-produced shows on the makeshift stage in my basement (I’m particularly well known for my rendition of Phantom of the Opera featuring my stuffed animals)—and plenty of reading. My taste in dance writing matured with me—I moved on from the Darcey Bussell book to Pointe and Dance Magazine, biographies of famous dancers, and later, reviews by critics like Sarah Kaufman and Alistair Macaulay.

Because I relied on these writers to be my eyes, I learned that it wasn’t only onstage where people could spin careers from a love of this art form. In many ways, I credit these early experiences with pulling me towards this very moment. New York City Ballet’s run of “Coppélia,” a 50-year commemoration of the debut of George Balanchine and Alexandra Danilova’s version of the classic, was a chance for the company to reflect on its history—and it also offered the same opportunity to me.

Megan Fairchild, Anthony Huxley and the Company in “Coppélia” by George Balanchine and Alexandra Danilova. Photograph by Erin Baiano

As soon as the curtain opened, revealing Rouben Ter-Arutunian’s colorful, whimsical set, I felt like I had stepped back in time and into the pages of my Darcey Bussell book. The pastel, flower-adorned costumes, also designed by Ter-Arutunian (with the exception of the third act Dawn, Prayer, Spinner, and children’s costumes, which were created by the incomparable NYCB costume maven Karinska), seemed to be pulled straight from my ballet-obsessed, six-year-old brain. The music, by Léo Delibes, isn’t as woven into my soul as the scores of Nutcracker and Swan Lake, but it still filled me with sonic-based nostalgia as I mentally revisited the barre combinations of bygone days.

“Coppélia” follows a young woman, Swanilda, and her lover, Frantz. Both enjoy making mischief in their village, and one of their targets is Dr. Coppélius, an old, eccentric toymaker. A beautiful young woman, Coppélia, who sits on the toymaker's balcony reading—but never interacting with the other townspeople—intrigues both Swanilda and Frantz. When, upon breaking into Coppélius’s workshop with a gaggle of friends, Swanilda discovers Coppélia is actually a doll, she decides to dress in her clothes to fool Dr. Coppélius. Simultaneously, Frantz enters the workshop of his own accord to see Coppélia, on whom he harbors a not-so-secret crush. Dr. Coppélius, who attempts to cast a spell on Frantz to enliven his doll with energy from the man’s body, is overjoyed at his success—that is, until Swanilda reveals Coppélia’s crumpled up doll-body hidden behind a curtain.

Megan Fairchild and Robert La Fosse in “Coppélia” by George Balanchine and Alexandra Danilova. Photograph by Erin Baiano

Megan Fairchild, who danced the role of Swanilda, could not have been more perfect. She was full of lighthearted, mischievous energy, moving through the fast-paced, precise steps with aplomb. As she danced, her body became a conduit to not only reveal the depths of her own artistry, but also that of Danilova, who staged the first two acts from her memories of dancing the ballet with the Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo.

The performance was bookended with the nostalgia of Act I and the delight of Act III. The third act, Balanchine’s “pure dance” addition, featuring an adorable corps of young dancers from the School of American Ballet, brought a whimsical, almost Nutcracker-esque feeling. Act II though, felt a little different for me.

While I loved the humor woven throughout, the story began to feel a little untoward as Dr. Coppélius, danced by Robert La Fosse, revealed more about the nature of his connection to Coppélia. Overjoyed that his creation had seemingly come to life, he (sometimes literally) hung on her every move. And though the program noted that the toymaker considered Coppélia a “daughter,” the nature of Coppélius’s choreography (notably, a suggestive tickle of Swanilda-as-Coppélia’s knee during the pas de deux), made me squirm in my seat.

Megan Fairchild and Anthony Huxley in “Coppélia”
by George Balanchine and Alexandra Danilova. Photograph by Erin Baiano

“Coppélia” is a rare classical ballet where the titular ballerina role has some agency. Swanilda drives the plot—and she doesn’t die at the end. I sort of bristle at the idea that this ballet is a win for women, though, given the fact that Swanilda ends up married to Frantz, a man who literally would have preferred to be with a doll.

You know what they say about meeting your heroes, though. It can be a tricky thing, in the same sort of way, holding work of a bygone era up to the standards of the current day. “Coppélia” became, before my eyes, a tale seen through the lens of my more current reading and sensibilities. But, at the same time, it was also my childhood storybook come to life.

Sophie Bress

Sophie Bress is an arts and culture journalist and dance critic. She regularly contributes to Dance Magazine and Fjord Review, and has also written for the New York Times, NPR, Observer, Pointe, and more.

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