Tuesday 17 September 2013

La Sylphide

Recently, I took my ten-year-old to see the Australian Ballet perform Pequita and La Sylphide at the State Theatre.  We drove to the city, paid a fortune for parking and ate McDonalds for dinner.

Outside McDonalds on Swanston Street, there was a rank of horse drawn carriages.  We had an hour to kill, so I inquired the price.  The driver told me.  I smiled, nodded politely and we stood there admiring the horses.  A short time later a father and son came along and inquired the price.  The driver told him.  The father smiled, nodded politely and they stood admiring the horses. 

I knew my daughter would love the carriage ride, so I asked the father, ‘Do you want to go halves?’

Soon we were clopping through the streets of Melbourne, with blankets across our knees, admiring the lights and the fountains.  It’s a peaceful, if somewhat smelly, way to travel.  I could almost sense what it would have been like to travel to the ballet a century or more ago.  Okay, so perhaps the lights of the MCG wouldn’t have been glaring, cars wouldn’t clog St Kilda Road and the Eureka wouldn’t tower over everything, but it was a lovely experience to share with my daughter (and a couple of complete strangers).

At the theatre, we were amongst the first to take our seats.  We had cheap seats right up the back of the balcony.  With few people in the theatre it was a dizzying height, but the other seats were soon filled.

During the performance of Pequita, two rather tall ladies with large buns perched on top of their heads sat in front of my daughter.  I offered to swap seats but my daughter was happy where she was, peeking between the big hairdos.  We swapped during intermission but the tall ladies didn’t return, so we had a clear view of the two acts of La Sylphide.

Pequita was spectacular, showing the amazing technique that ballet is famous for.  But La Sylphide?  What an amazing production!   The sets were fabulous, the dancing divine and the story easy to follow:  A Scotsman is awakened by a sylph on his wedding day and falls in love with her.  Meanwhile, as wedding plans are underway, the best man is trying to win the heart of the bride.  The Scotsman insults the wrong wedding guest (a witch) and tragedy ensues, but despite the tragic end for the Scotsman and the sylph, the story is light-hearted and funny.

The best bit according to my daughter:  When the best man does an impression of the sylph, then tries to sit on a chair that’s been moved.  That was my favourite bit too.