WOOLF WORKS

Revie by Celia Ipiotis

Translating the inner thoughts and writings of a novelist to dance has proven rich inspiration for many a choreographer. Woolf Works by Wayne McGregor premiered in 2015 with the Royal Ballet made its way in 2024 to ABT under the artistic leadership of Susan Jaffe.

More a contemplation on Virginia Woolf’s three novels Mrs. Dalloway, Orlando and The Waves than an actual physical depiction, Woolf Works is set to the sonorous, occasionally overwrought score by Max Richter. Noting that words have their limits as a form of communication,  Woolf’s opinion holds for dance as well.

Built on Alessandra Feri, one this generation’s most penetrating dramatic ballerinas, she returned to ABT, transforming Woolf Works with her presence. The first and and third scenes feature Feri and are the most theatrically effective. Oversized outlines of books stand like window frames against the background of projections and foreground of memories in the opening sequence “I now, I then.”

In yearning gestures, Feri faces away from her husband (Roman Zhurbin), leaning out of his arms towards her past. It’s a place where she, a young women (represented by a fluid Lea Fleytoux) engages in tender embraces that open into a kiss with Sally, a fine Cassandra Trenary. Then there’s Herman Cornejo, another of Clarissa’s former lovers. Cornejo and Feri commune effortlessly, he holds her, as she reaches, drops and extends every atom of her body towards unanswered questions,

This scene cross-fades into the ills of war following Septimus (a “shell shocked” soldier) and the heavy bodied Evans, Patrick Frenette, in a heart tugging duet. All part of an impressionistic drama, the dancers swirly forward and back into and out of consciousness. In the background, the chimes of Old Ben clang over projections of a night sky and clouds suspended over an old London.

The second section “Becomings” abruptly swerves into a neo futuristic environment amped up with arena-style lasers against a dark background. Elastic extensions snap into stiff turns, and acrobatic duets abound in this high octane section defined by same sex partnering. Fantasy cum gothic Tudor style costumes by Mortiz Jung add to the dismembered aesthetic.

Large waves break across the back of the Met Opera stage (film design by Ravi Deepres)  in the final section “Tuesday.” Ferri, Cornejo and Shevchenko lead the cast in the final, nostalgic review of a life inspired by love and suspended in madness. Magestically stepping into her death, Feri knows precisely how to magnify the most intimate gesture into a  world of expression. Virginia Woolf would approve.

EYE ON THE ARTS, NY — Celia Ipiotis