Catherine Hurlin and James Whiteside after the July 4 matinée of Swan Lake at American Ballet Theatre.
Another day, another fantastic Swan. It is remarkable that American Ballet Theatre has two major young Odette/Odiles at the same time (Hurlin and Chloe Misseldine), each extraordinary in her own way and totally unalike. At today's performance, Hurlin danced with blazing facility, shaping the steps to her will. I was amazed in particular by two things: 1. That she used her steps and gestures, as well as her eyes and hands to "speak," almost conversationally. She was as much an actress as a dancer. Fear, mistrust, the desire for closeness, the need for freedom, the manipulative glance that communicated that she was, in fact, the woman Siegfried had met at the Lakeside, all was blazingly clear. For once, the mime didn't look like a series of semaphores, formalized and remote. And 2. From one act to the next, she seemed like a completely different person. Her Odette was at first startled, then fierce, and finally loving. Her Odile was playful, almost girlish at times, intent on deception, and then delighted to see her effect on Siegfried. She broke the fourth wall in a way I don't think I've seen before (except perhaps from Nina Ananiasvhili), letting us know just how well her deception was working, until at the end of the “Black Swan” pas de deux, she looked frankly out at the audience, smiled as if to say, "see what I've done?!", and, only then, triumphantly arched her back away from her dazed partner with a grand flourish of the arm. Moments later she returned to the Lakeside, all yearning and sadness, saying to Siegfried, with her hands, "you took my heart and threw it away." (It was that clear.) The transformation was startling. And then there was her dancing: big, straighforward, crystalline, simple. Slow, slow enveloppés that you could feel in your own sinews. Gorgeous, easy balances. Musical, sharp, forceful fouetté turns that stayed right on one spot; accents in her footwork and arms that matched the sound of the cello or violin or oboe. And then, after the show, out came this gleeful young woman, embracing the partner who had helped create this illusion with her over the preceding two hours. Aren't we the lucky ones.