Dear Friends,
Giselle has enthralled audiences since its premiere in Paris in 1841. I’ll do the math for you—that’s 185 years ago. Despite the years, audiences seem as intrigued today as they were on opening night. There are a few reasons why Giselle works. First, the plot is so good. As the curtain rises on a picturesque village, we meet sweethearts Albert and Giselle. He likes her, and she seems to like him right back. This other guy, Hilarion, likes her too, but she has made her choice. Love triangle. There are a few oddities, like the fact that Albert seems to have a squire which makes us wonder if he’s really a villager. Hint: he’s not. This gets messy when a royal hunting party arrives in the village. The beautiful Bathilde starts talking with Giselle. Giselle says she has a fiancé. Bathilde says she has one too. Uh oh. Love triangle goes quad. Then the Duke of Courlande sees Albert and says, “Hey Albert, why are you dressed like a peasant?” Cue the heavy drama. I’ll stop there but be warned; we are headed to a creepy graveyard in Act II where Wilis torture and kill unfaithful men between midnight and dawn. You can’t make this stuff up—well actually, someone did. Two people, in fact. This zany libretto was penned by Jean-Henri Vernoy de Saint-Georges and Théophile Gautier. Then came the score by Adolphe Adam and choreography by Jean Coralli, Jules Perrot, and Marius Petipa.
PNB introduced this staging in 2011. Much credit goes to Doug Fullington and Marian Smith who served as historical advisors. Doug and Marian worked from three historical sources—one unearthed quite recently. The sources were dated 1842, 1860, and 1899–1903. Each offered different insights to the original production, allowing us to piece together a historically informed staging. Marian contributed vivid details for the mime passages. Doug interpreted choreography, spacing, and alignment of action to music. My role was to coordinate these elements, making choices about the staging, and adding choreography where gaps existed. We worked to make the interactions as natural and human as possible. The dancers were also invaluable in developing our final version.
Adam’s score was a guiding force in the restaging process. Notes played match French phrases syllable for syllable. The oboe conveys a sound of arrival and warning. Dancers’ claps mirror sliced notes from the string section. Hilarion has his own entrance music. How cool is that? The PNB Orchestra breathes emotion and power into the score, telling a story through sound and synchronization.
PNB’s production is visually stunning. Scenic designs by Jérôme Kaplan (Jean-Christophe Maillot’s Roméo et Juliette, George Balanchine’s Jewels) capture the dramatic landscapes of 20th century northern European painters. Jérôme’s costume designs, created by PNB’s costume shop, are equally impressive. The playful patterns on the villagers’ clothes contrast with the sweeping silks, structured silhouettes, and primary color palette of the nobility. Randall Chiarelli’s lighting summons early morning sun, ominous clouds, and a luminous gray that floats across gravestones, over bullrushes and onto the ghostly faces of jilted brides who died before their wedding day. Serious chills.
Ultimately, Giselle is a story of love, albeit a tragic one, but in the end, against all odds, love wins. A concept for the ages, a tale as old as time—or at least since 1841.
Welcome to Giselle. Fasten your seatbelts.
