Chopiniana / Scheherazade review: An uneven debut from Kazakh ballet company

You wait ages for a Kazakhstan ballet company – then two come along at once. Just two months after Astana Ballet presented an interesting mixed bill at the Linbury, comes the first UK performance by its oldest troupe, Abay Kazakh State Ballet Theatre, this time showcasing generation-defining Fokine.

It’s always a joy to see Chopiniana and Scheherazade, now only occasionally performed on these shores, but this was an uneven debut.

Much of that lies squarely at the feet of the staging: over-harsh lighting, dull backdrops and crackling, leaden scores blared over the Coliseum’s speaker system. Admittedly, few companies can take the financial hit of touring with a live orchestra – but it’s hard to lose yourself in the lyricism of Chopin or the richness of Rimsky-Korsakov when you can’t actually hear them properly.

Strange too, for Chopiniana, better known as Les Sylphides in the West, is essentially a ballet, not of plot (there’s not one really), but of mood – and you destroy that at your peril. Abay Kazakh’s corps did their best to project the required level of airy, ethereal elegance, though the effect of flitting woodland sprites was spoilt a little by some weak épaulement and unfocused sight lines.

Much better were the soloists, with Zhanel Tukeeva in particular capturing the Mazurka’s playfulness and Arisa Hashimoto serenely jetéing her way through the Eleventh Waltz.

Like Chopiniana, staging is all in Schéhérazade: its either one of ballet’s most erotic works – or a sideshow of exotic kitsch. Malika Elchibayeva (Zobeide) and Azamat Askarov (the Golden Slave) proved loose-limbed and sensuous rather than X-rated, while Nelson Pena was an effectively menacing Sultan.