Sylvie Guillem, On The Edge / Sur le fil -
a portrait by Françoise Ha Van [88.00]
Author: Sylvie Guillem
Directed by Françoise Ha Van
Produced by Fabienne Tsaï and Marie Descourtieux for À Droite de la Lune in
co-production with Arte France and in association with Sadler’s Wells, with
the participation of France Télévisions
Photography direction by Jean Philippe Bouyer
Sound editing by Alexandre Fleurant
Sound mixing by Vincent Arnardi
Extras: Guillem Over The Seasons [30.00]
Picture format: NTSC/Colour/16:9
Sound format: PCM stereo/DTS 5.1
Menu language: English
Subtitles: English, German, French, Spanish
Booklet notes by Dominique Frétard in English, German and French
DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON 073 4544 DVD [118.00]
Sylvie Guillem (born in 1965) is to my mind the greatest female dancer to
have graced the stage of the Royal Opera House in the last twenty years. While
British audiences always favoured the lovely and also great Darcey Bussell;
it must be said that whatever role Guillem danced, she almost always eclipsed
every other ballerina who performed the same part.
Guillem first trained as a gymnast; then joined the Paris Opera Ballet School
in 1977 when she was twelve years old. She completed her studies at the school
in 1980 and joined the Paris Opera Ballet (POB) the following year. In 1983,
Rudolf Nureyev became POB’s artistic director and Guillem quickly caught his
eye. He shook up the company, giving it a new, fresher face by promoting young
dancers, obtaining works by famed modern choreographers like Cunningham and
Robbins, and commissioning new ballets by contemporary artists such as William
Forsythe and Karole Armitage. Guillem benefited from Nureyev’s programme and
in 1984, following her role debut in Swan Lake she was promoted to
étoile. During her time with POB she created many roles in works from
such celebrated and diverse choreographers as Forsythe and Béjart; and danced
countless others. However, in 1989, apparently after a disagreement with Nureyev,
the strong-minded Guillem left and joined the Royal Ballet where she became
a principal guest artist. In London, she danced the leading roles in all of
the most popular classics; inherited Fonteyn’s part in the revival of Ashton’s
Marguerite et Armand and was unforgettable in the title role in Mats
Ek’s Carmen when the Royal Ballet first staged it in 2002.
Guillem possesses a brilliant, impeccable technique, which is attributed by
many to her earlier training as a gymnast. Whether this is the case is debatable;
the point is that her technique is flawless, pure and fluid; her body has
an almost uncanny elasticity, her grace and statuesque elegance are unquestionable
and - the icing on the cake - she is also a powerful actress, capable of injecting
dramatic intensity, delicate sentiment or sensual innuendo by her movements
like no other female dancer before or since.
I am a great fan of Guillem’s artistry and therefore was eagerly awaiting
this DVD portrait. I am sorry to say that I was a little disappointed. It
starts with a suggestive prologue: a pair of feet stretching lazily on top
of a window seal. We naturally assume these are Guillem’s feet and she states
that this is what she likes, meaning doing nothing, and that she is a real
“lazy bones”! Then, she tells us that she loves the seasons, all seasons,
and so we see the credits of the film against images of sand blown in the
wind, ice and water. Then it cuts to black and white pictures of swans swimming
on a lake, followed by Guillem rehearsing Swan Lake. Finally, we see
her as Odette, on stage, during a performance of the ballet. These sequences
form the introduction to the main feature documentary and are in black and
white, played to Tchaikovsky’s music, which is interrupted by a modern score;
a fact that I found irritating. As the footage finishes and Guillem comes
to the front of the stage to take a bow, the film changes to colour and it
is here that the documentary really takes off. Why black and white was chosen
for the beginning is not clear but it appeared to me to be an attempt at showing
that Guillem had started to feel “imprisoned” within the classical roles and
wanted to explore new ways of expressing herself and new paths in dance; not
always obvious and occasionally controversial. So, her new life as an artist
begins when she takes her bow hence the change from black and white to colour,
symbolising the blossoming of a new artistic career.
After the above described prologue and introduction, what follows is a documentary
in chapters of Guillem’s collaboration with Russell Maliphant, Akram Kahn
and Robert Lepage who are the artists she chose for her new and sometimes
artistically risky ventures. The film takes us through various locations around
the world while she is touring, in-between rehearsals for Lepage’s Eonnagata,
created especially for her and also involving Maliphant. The connection between
the various chapters, apart from the fact that she is touring, is not obvious;
there is no linking narrative thread and no clear reason for having these
episodes and not other totally different ones. However, once one watches the
DVD for the second time, it becomes more apparent: this was filmed during
a certain period of time where Guillem toured while also preparing and rehearsing
Eonnagata; and this is really the linkage as well as the background
between all the chapters. While some of it is very interesting, other parts
can be repetitive and boring. As a portrait of a multi-faceted, incredibly
talented dancer, I personally found it single sided, only showing us what
Guillem is now, why she is exploring new ground and how she feels about it.
Even though this was the objective, I felt the film did not quite achieve
it. There is no voice-over narrating or commentating, though this role is
occasionally fulfilled by Guillem when she shares her thoughts with us. There
is however no structured story-telling. On occasions, her comments feel as
if they are coming out of nowhere, scattered and not always relevant to what
we are seeing. At least, this is the way I perceived them. The episodes of
her journey often appear fragmented; the reasons for her choices and why she
is collaborating with these artists are never quite clear, and these are aspects
that to my mind would have enriched the portrait.
As its title, On The Edge, indicates, the film wants to show the risks
that Guillem is taking, artistically speaking. Sadly, it fails to capture
one’s imagination or to deliver its aim adequately. Guillem is credited as
author, which I assume means that she wrote the script and possibly influenced
the contents of the film not only in terms of the pictures but also in terms
of the underlying music and sound. Whether this was wise is arguable; I do
not think she completely succeeded.
The real highlights and fascinating moments are when Guillem is filmed dancing.
Her movements are as beautiful and expressive as they ever were. The fact
that she is in her mid-forties does not show; her technical brilliance is
all there; the way in which she is able to move still defies belief; her elegance,
grace and statuesque posture have not disappeared and, if anything, I would
say that these qualities are stronger than ever. However, I felt that there
were not enough such moments and, as the end of the film approached, I was
left with a feeling of emptiness and unfulfilled expectation.
The main feature, On The Edge, was directed by Françoise Ha Van who
does a commendable job and is particularly effective during the dance sequences.
The DVD also contains a set of so-called ‘Extras’ entitled “Guillem over
the seasons”, which show us excerpts from famous ballets danced by Sylvie
Guillem. According to the booklet notes and the DVD marketing slogans, these
involve rarely seen backstage footage as well as highlights from Guillem’s
acclaimed career, both as ballerina and as contemporary dancer. These Extras
are indeed a welcome bonus, as they include a few memorable solos of Guillem
in Romeo and Juliet and Don Quixote, as well as some marvellous
moments with other dancers, namely Nicolas Le Riche and Laurent Hilaire, in
Sleeping Beauty and In the Middle Somewhat Elevated, a work
where Forsythe created a leading role especially for her.
Overall, this DVD about Sylvie Guillem is interesting though as a portrait
it is incomplete. On the one hand, it is fascinating to see how she keeps
trying new endeavours and how she is able to re-invent herself as an artist.
On the other, the film does not fully achieve its objective of showing us
a dancer on the edge, taking great risks. The pace is often too slow; on occasions
a little too introspective. I enjoyed it because it is always a pleasure to
watch Guillem in action. While it is wonderful to realise that she lost none
of her magical way of moving, it is disappointing to have to report that her
energy, her excitement at new ways, her colourful artistry were not present.
Perhaps, as the author, this subdued, single-sided portrait was Sylvie Guillem’s
own idea, in order to enhance her search for new ways of expression through
movement. For the viewer, I am sorry to say, particularly if one is an admirer
and has seen her on stage many times before, this documentary is insufficient
and while it has some great moments, one is left with the impression that
it could have been memorable. Sadly, it is no more than mildly curious.
Margarida Mota-Bull