An Ideal Don Quixote

The curtain opens on a stark, grey stage. Cut off from the vitality of the world, an aged man, shabby and nondescript, exists only for his books. Inspired suddenly by a romantic vision, he forces a lazing servant to attend him and leaves behind this colorless prison, carrying his fantastical determination along with the dated accoutrements of a crusading knight.

Performance

K-Ballet Tokyo: “Don Quixote”

Place

Tokyo Bunka Kaikan, Tokyo, Japan, September 26, 2025

Words

Kris Kosaka

Masaya Yamamoto and Shiori Kase in “Don Quixote.” Photograph courtesy of K-Ballet Tokyo

It’s an important start to Tetsuya Kumakawa’s reworking of “Don Quixote,” after Marius Petipa and Alexander Gorsky. From its premiere in 2004, the production retains the frolic and fun that audiences expect: the quicksilver dazzle of the exuberant ensemble scenes, the farcical characters Gamache and Sancho Panza, the jubilant love of Kitri and Basil.

By including a dignified thru-line validating man’s often fruitless search for meaning, Kumakawa adds subtle cohesion to the infamously odd plot.

The Don is never an object of ridicule or farce in Kumakawa’s version, perfectly played with stiff-backed resolve and old-world elegance by character artist Nikolay Viyuzhanin. His noble interactions within the vicissitudes of everyday life in a small, Spanish village adds gravity to the gaiety, even in his more ridiculous scenes.

It is, of course, a nod to Miguel de Cervante’s classic novel, and one of the many small but important changes Kumakawa adds to make the ballet his own. An expanded adagio between the lovers to open Act 2, using original music by Léon Minkus unearthed by Kumakawa’s music director, distinctive choreographic tweaks throughout and an expansion of Sancho Panza’s role in Act Three are other notable changes.

Masaya Yamamoto and Shiori Kase in “Don Quixote.” Photograph courtesy of K-Ballet Tokyo

Where Kumakawa’s version excels, above all else, is the technical verve of the dancing. This, out of all ballets, is the one most connected to his own technical brilliance as a dancer, and there’s a skilled leveling-up across every role.

English National Ballet’s lead principal Shiori Kase led the night as Kitri, partnered by K-Ballet Tokyo principal Masaya Yamamoto as Basil. Kase’s sharp footwork, precise balance and clean turns impress throughout, with nary a wobble or miscue, despite being a guest artist.

Yamamoto, always astounding with his precision and strength, brings a comic self-awareness and relaxed gregariousness to Basil, his third time in the role. His characterization humorously subverts Kase’s flippant coolness. Their choreographed banter delights, culminating in the thrillingly held lifts, midway through the act.

Part of the magic of “Don Quixote” is the abundance of stunning performances. Momoko Fusegawa as Mercedes and Hirotaka Yamada as Espada excel with such a flurry of technical skill it was hard to keep track. Backed by the crisp artistry of the bullfighters’ ensemble, another joy is noticing the constant realism framing the dancers—the drinking, the card games, the squabbles—that adds to the authenticity of the staging.

Hirotaka Yamada as Espada in “Don Quixote.” Photograph courtesy of K-Ballet Tokyo

Act 2 serves as a ballast to the furious fun of Act 1, with its surreal, Daliseque windmill looming over Kase and Yamamoto’s poignant adagio, the aggressive gypsies and Don Quixote’s reentrance to set up the Dream Sequence. The Don acts as a bridge between the lovers and the gypsies, earning respect even in his foolhardy attack on the windmill.

Mayu Tsukada as Cupid and Mine Nagao as Queen of the Dryads bring both supernatural elegance and mischievous levity to the dream, while hitting an important character beat for the Don’s wistful journey. The final tavern confrontation with Kitri’s father—Yamamoto’s mock suicide plays out with just the right touch of counterfeit tragedy—seamlessly sets up a return to the unrelenting buoyancy of Act 3.

As always with “Don Quixote”, the last act celebrates dance with the wedding pas de deux and famous variations. Yamamoto’s tour de reins, his turns in seconde, Kase’s saucy broken-lined jete, and famous 32 fouettés are all perfectly executed. There’s also an added dance battle between Yamada and Yamamoto to further raise the technical bravura. Even Sancho (Yuichiro Mukai) casts off his sidekick buffoonery to display his skill as a dancer.

Against this fury of life and love, Don Quixote once again looks longingly in the distance, and the ballet ends on his contemplation of another futile adventure. A joyous staging that highlights the skilled prowess of the entire Company, it’s also a wry nod to man’s dogged capacity to dream.

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 | Steven Sucato

Ultimate Release

Perhaps not since Mikhail Fokine’s 1905 iconic “The Dying Swan” has there been as haunting a solo dance depiction of avian death as Aakash Odedra Company’s “Songs of the Bulbul” (2024).

REVIEWS | Sophie Bress

Weighty Issues

Dance, at its best, captures nuance particularly well, allowing us to feel deeply and purely. In its wordlessness, it places a primal reliance on movement and embodied knowledge as communication all its own. It can speak directly from the body to the heart, bypassing the brain’s drive to “make sense of.”

REVIEWS | Elsa Giovanna Simonetti

Modern Figures

“Racines”—meaning roots—stands as the counterbalance to “Giselle,” the two ballets opening the Paris Opera Ballet’s season this year.

REVIEWS | Elsa Giovanna Simonetti

Giselle Status

“Giselle” is a ballet cut in two: day and night, the earth of peasants and vine workers set against the pale netherworld of the Wilis, spirits of young women betrayed in love. Between these two realms opens a tragic dramatic fracture—the spectacular and disheartening death of Giselle.