Joffrey’s wonderful Anna Karenina has strong bones but doesn’t capture the flesh and blood of the story.

Joffrey opened his new one Anna Karenina this weekend before full houses at the Auditorium Theatre. The product of an international team of luminaries, including choreographer Yuri Possokhov, set and costume designer Tom Pye, lighting designer David Finn, and projection designer Finn Ross, the Joffrey i first order in ballet history and for ambition alone deserves respect. The company danced boldly to a new cinematography by Ilya Demutsky, with beautiful costumes shimmering in the muted blue of a small set enhanced by the clever use of lighting and projections—and if creating a new piece of theater is what it’s all about. In any case, this poem of Tolstoy’s classic takes home the awards for the way it captures the story of its title’s adultery, fall, and death in the form of capturing images.

To begin with: a black screen, its name is white. As the overture plays, the scene opens with illusory magic – smoke and steam billow and open, illuminating the screen and obscuring its name. A man with a candle is shown, falling through the sky, while the design of the train station emerges through the condensation of steam. A few people were gathering on the stage when a man stumbled on the road. A woman (Victoria Jaiani) stands with her hands on her face, horrified by her lifeless body: Anna.

From this beautiful scene, we enter the house, cheered on by Kitty (Anais Bueno), who is twirling in anticipation of her first ball as her red dress moves towards her. She rejects Levin (Yoshihisa Arai), who is tied to love around her waist, provoked by violence, in favor of the restrained Vronsky (Alberto Velazquez). The ball begins, just like the one thrown by the Capulets in Verona with a goth style in the costume. Vronsky is captivated by the hypnotic appearance of Anna, whose black dress and ankle boots leave Kitty’s innocence like a canary flying in the background as Odette observes during from the Black Swan pas de deux. Swan Lake.

Much of the story is made up of such brief glimpses of other events—Vronsky riding his horse on the opening day of Ascot from My Good WifeVronsky and Anna engage themselves in a duet that is even better ManonFor sex, Anna goes on a morphine trip that turns her into a mad Giselle in a cage. Although language is not a failure, this is Anna Karenina come in and start, the scenes are recorded without showing, the feeling is waiting in front of the event before the food is stimulated. The country has bones, but not flesh and blood—who are these people, what do they think, and why should we care? The story is clear without considering these little things. There is no time to breathe in the night when Anna and Vronsky stand there, as if struck by a hammer and sealed in their fate, but it goes without growth, fast like a picture in a moving picture.

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