As I ascended the steps of the Cairo Opera House's Main Hall yesterday, I heard two eight-year-old girls speaking about the performance we were about to see. "I've seen it nine times! said one girl. Politely, the other girl giggled, "I've seen it 10. Whether they were talking about the particular ballet "Cinderella or other performances staged during the 10-year-long exchange program between the Russian Children's Ballet Theater and the Cairo Opera House, I did not ascertain. I soon lost them in the crowd as the audience settled in to the 10 am performance. Surprisingly, the large group of children, comprising about 70 percent of the audience, was well behaved and attentive. It would have been difficult not to feel nostalgic when Tchaikovsky's triumphant music started and the curtain lifted to reveal a glittery fairy soloist on pointe. "Lovely, those white pointe shoes the woman beside me said to her daughter in an unaltered speaking voice. "Yes! her daughter eagerly replied. The fairy performed a simple, pleasant choreography. The entrance of the wicked step-mother and stepsisters featured another uncomplicated piece - a pas de trois by the bumbling group. When Cinderella entered in her flattering peasant dress, presenting a highly elegant porte de bras, I was for some reason struck by the sheer beauty of the tasteful, opulent set. Unfortunately the set at that moment caught more of my attention than the dancing. It could have been because the dancers themselves were dwarfed by the massive stage in the Main Hall. It was not until the larger choruses appeared in later acts that the company managed to properly occupy the space. The action continued along its classic trajectory with a few exceptions: Rather than adhering to the traditional storyline, the Russian Ballet sets the story in a ballet class. Cinderella looks on as a covert student who will eventually of course outshine her stepsisters. A comical scene takes place with the dance maestro and violinist dressed in Victorian wigs, looking like dueling Mozarts facing the incapable dancing sisters. The following scene, Cinderella alone in her home, introduces the children dancers of the company. She is joined by a group of four animate teapots, within which some of the company's youngest members are charmingly costumed. They perform simple movements alongside Cinderella, creating a somewhat Snow White-ish effect with her being the lone heroine in the company of her loving non-human family. In the scene when the fairy grants Cinderella her wish, things get a bit confusing on stage. Had I not been able to consult my program, I might not have understood some of the symbolism employed by the company. In the absence of the pumpkin turned coach, the mice (played by children in silvery leotards) turned horses become a bit less significant. The fact that these mice also do not physically change further mystified me. Clearly however, amid indicatory music and a flurry of activity, something happens and the ballet is never more innovative than when it employs three lean children dancers in silver to simulate the movements of inviolable midnight clock. The following scene features the ever momentous ball. Strangely, in his entrance, the Prince had the most jetes of the entire company, including the soloist playing Cinderella. For the most part, the young company relied on pas marche, simple walking steps, and uncomplicated chasses to move from one end of the stage to the other. Elementary lifts were employed by the children in various scenes; the only person moving over a few centimeters from the ground is the prima ballerina in the portage of the young prince. In a century-old controversy about how young bodies can be damaged by overly strenuous ballet training, the company's simple routines seem the more humane option. "How did you enjoy the show? I asked a few members of the audience. A woman seated behind me replied that she thought it was nice for the children. The children themselves answered similarly, politely and fairly unenthusiastically. For the most part I had to agree. There are moments better than others - a young trio of turbaned princes dances with bright oranges in a rather imaginative inference to the prince's desire to gift Cinderella. At this moment, the program warns: "his exotic fruit is in their hands. The audience similarly had moments of rapt attention and restlessness. At the end, I found myself thinking of the young girls I'd encountered before the curtain lifted. To have seen a performance of this sort 10 times, is not necessarily to have it diminish in one's experience. At the same time, the show delivers exactly what one would expect at the Cairo Opera from a touring children's ballet company from Russia: professionalism, grace, rote movements and a predictable interpretation of well known material. The costumes are lovely, music is splendid and the movement plainly well executed. It is a typical if not unsurprising holiday pageant. And with the Cairo Opera swathed in pine boughs and holiday ornaments, if not for the 20 degree weather outside, one might not know whether the children onstage were dancing in Cairo, Moscow or New York. "Cinderella by the Russian International Childrens Ballet continues in the Alexandria Opera House "Sayed Darwish Theatre on Saturday at 10 am and Sunday at 10 am and 12:45 pm. Tel: (03) 486 5106, (03) 480 0138
