Chinese ballet tinged with magic

Shanghai company brings classic `Coppelia’ to Blumenthal

The history of classical ballet in China spins on the very toe of political upheaval. It came to China with Russian dancers who fled the Bolshevik Revolution. These émigrés set up dancing schools in major cities such as Shanghai, where a young Margot Fonteyn studied ballet from 1928-1933.

But the Shanghai Ballet company, presented Monday night [October 28, 2002] by the Carolinas Concert Association, was not founded until 1979, after another revolution — the brutal Cultural Revolution — had quieted enough to allow involvement in Western culture again.

Performing at the North Carolina Blumenthal Performing Arts Center, the Shanghai Ballet presented “Coppelia,” a 19th-century French ballet based on a story by E.T.A. Hoffman of “Nutcracker” fame. (This performance could truly be called international: a Russian-influenced Asian dance company performing, in the United States, a French ballet based on a German story set in Poland.)

Like “The Nutcracker,” “Coppelia” sparkles with magic and romance, depicting the unusual love triangle of a man (Franz), a woman (Swanhilda) and a dancing doll (Coppelia). But unlike the Nutcracker prince, the doll Coppelia doesn’t come to life; she dances only when impersonated by Swanhilda.

This production creates the wonderment of a fairy tale. In the opening scene, a softly painted backdrop shows a picturesque village under blue skies; the stage is its tree-lined square. Crowds of townspeople light up the set with bold costumes that include bright red hats and yellow boots.

The mysterious toymaker Dr. Coppelius, Coppelia’s creator, has an explosion of white hair that would make any mad scientist proud. His workshop, the setting for Act II, is vast and gloomy, illuminated by only a soft blue light and the startling costumes of his life-size dolls.

The Russian school of ballet is known for its attention to the upper body, and that influence could be seen in the precise and lyrical arm and head movements of the Shanghai dancers, particularly the two principals.

Ji Pingping, as Swanhilda, is an exceptionally pretty dancer — delicate and buoyant. Her pantomime in the first act was so stylized as to border on the artificial. It gave her acting a doll-like quality, even when she wasn’t being a doll. But her dancing was lovely.

Chen Zhenrong, as Franz, seemed a bit more flesh and blood. He, too, danced with grace and fluidity.

This delightful performance was marred only by a technical breakdown. The music stopped abruptly in the third act. (Oh, for live music!) But in the performing arts, good recovery is as important as good execution. After a pause, the third act began again, and the dancers continued graciously and gracefully.

Some people left during the interruption. Those who remained were rewarded with the finest dancing of the evening.

MEG FREEMAN WHALEN, Special to The Charlotte Observer