Polestar Ballet Anthology

Polestar Ballet Anthology (I)

Black Snow Swan Cast Odelya — The Black Snow Swan Militsa — The Snow Swan Queen Vicielle — A Phantom Visiting Odelya Samsati— A Phantom Visiting Odelya Tatyana — A Phantom Visiting Odelya Fontainian Nobles, Snow Swans, etc. (Act I) (The main stage is bathed in a cold, haunting blue light. At the center of a frozen lake, the Black Snow Swan, Odelya, dances alone. Her movements are fierce and contorted, as though she were trying to tear the feathers from her own wings.) Odelya: Begone, accursed night! Why must your ill-fated hue be branded upon my wings? Odelya: Upon this pure white frozen lake, my sisters soar in carefree grace, their feathers brighter than the falling snow. Odelya: But I... I am a monster, as though my feathers were stained with soot... (Odelya collapses weakly onto the ice. She buries her face in her hands and weeps.) Odelya: Tell me, O Lord above — or whichever cruel god deigns to hear me— Odelya: What sin have I committed to bear the shame of living as an outcast? Odelya: How can I cleanse these wings, that I might become as pure as my sisters? (The raging snowstorm suddenly falls still. The Snow Swan Queen, Militsa, enters center stage, surrounded by a retinue of white snow swans. Adagio.) Militsa: My Odelya... my poor child, my precious child. Do not torment yourself so. Militsa: Even if you were to tear your wings apart, you could never wash away the color you were born with. Militsa: Your wings are black because they have been touched by the nature of humankind. (Odelya lifts her head and places a hand over her heart.) Odelya: The nature of humankind? (The ensemble portraying the snow swans parts, then slowly closes in, encircling Odelya.) Militsa: Human nature. Human emotion. That is no mere stain, Odelya — it is a poison fouler than any stain. Militsa: A terrible blight. They are called love and passion, and fate is ever ready to weave them into a net from which no soul can escape. (Odelya rises. With slow, tentative steps, she reaches out, seeking the embrace of her sisters. The ensemble accepts her into their arms.) Odelya: I don't understand... Mother... Sisters. Militsa: Oh, how could you not understand the frailty of the human heart, my Odelya? My poor child... my precious child. Snow Swans (in unison): How could she not understand? Our Odelya, our beloved sister, how could she not? Militsa: How many brilliant minds has love cast into shadow? How many noble souls has love brought low? Militsa: It bids the mightiest hero bow before the hand of Fate, to kneel before the cruel usurper, all for the sake of one fleeting moment of tenderness. Militsa: Know this: The flame of mercy and kindness dies at the slightest breath. Only cold, impartial calculation can endure until the dawn. Militsa: My Odelya... my poor child, my precious child. Your feathers have been stained by that foul poison called passion... and love. (The ensemble lowers their heads in silent mourning.) Snow Swans (in unison): Passion and love... Love and passion... Our Odelya, our beloved sister — how could she have been touched by such things? Snow Swans (in unison): The human heart is frail. Fate is cruel. Snow Swans (in unison): Touch not that poison. Do not shackle yourself to your own ruin. (Militsa gently strokes Odelya's head, then sends her toward the opposite side of the stage. Odelya falls to her knees upon the ice.) Militsa: Hear me, Odelya. The snow swans dance for eternity. Militsa: Let not your wings descend into the mire of mortal things. Let not the sorrows of the heart stain your feathers. Snow Swans (in unison): Love shall make the soul bow before the will of Fate. Tenderness is weakness! Tenderness is weakness! Snow Swans (in unison): Touch not that poison. Do not shackle yourself to your own ruin. (Odelya remains upon the ice. She gazes up at the queen and her sisters, stretching out her hands in supplication.) Odelya: What must I do? Mother, what must I do? Odelya: How may I become as pure as my sisters — as cold as they? (Militsa raises both arms. The lights flicker.) Militsa: Three spirits of the past shall answer my call. One by one, they shall visit your dreams. Militsa: Without their counsel, never shall you escape the net that fate has spun. Militsa: Hear me, my Odelya, my beloved child— Militsa: When tomorrow's dance is stilled, and the bell strikes its first lonely toll, receive your first unbidden guest. Militsa: On the night that follows, at that selfsame hour, receive the second. Militsa: When the third night falls, and the last echo of the bell has died away, receive the third. Militsa: For your own sake, listen well to what they say. Militsa: For therein lies your salvation... and their punishment. (The snowstorm howls once more. Militsa and the snow swans depart. The lights fade until only a single spotlight remains, illuminating Odelya, curled upon the center of the stage.) (Act II) ... (A deep, solitary bell tolls. An eerie green glow rises at one side of the stage. Odelya slowly struggles to her feet, leaning upon her knees, spent with weariness.) Odelya: I shall cleanse my wings. I shall wash all feeling from my heart, and soar beneath the selfsame sky as my sisters. (Vicielle's spirit glides from the shadows like a drifting wisp of mist. Her gown is adorned with glittering jewels, and in her hand she bears a Fontainian candelabrum. The music yields to an elegant minuet in the style of the Palais Mermonia. Phantoms of Fontainian nobles, splendidly attired, weave graceful figures behind her.) Vicielle: Fear not, my sister. I am Vicielle de Petrichor, a spirit from the past. Fontainian Nobles (in unison): Behold the Jewel of House Petrichor! None can rival her beauty. Fontainian Nobles (in unison): Her smile outshines the bloom of spring; before her grace, the fairest rose must bow in shame. Variation: Spring — Vicielle's Midnight Round Vicielle: How cruelly fate has wronged you, to leave you with a heart so tender and so full of mercy. Vicielle: I, too, once let compassion guide me. I placed my treasured golden necklace around the neck of a village maiden as she danced. Vicielle: Little did I know that the hunter who had promised her the next dance was the very man betrothed to me. Vicielle: I loved him with all my heart. It was only fitting that such love should end in heartbreak. (The music darkens. Vicielle clasps her hands to her heart. One by one, the Fontainian nobles collapse behind her.) Vicielle: The vows we once swore faded like the fragrance of spring, and no one remembers them now. Vicielle: The sweetest words are often the emptiest. For a handful of hollow promises and one fleeting moment of joy, the fairest years of life are cast away. Vicielle: Why should you suffer the same fate, my dear sister? Another's heart can never truly belong to you. Vicielle: I must weep. Yet these tears have long since run dry. (Adagio.) Vicielle: Love is sorrow. Vicielle: Call it friendship, romance, or divine love — it matters not. Vicielle: Mortal love is but a midnight dance of vain desire, and it can end only in the shameful grave that fate has prepared. Vicielle: They rob you of life's vigor, until every hope the future once held fades into nothing. Vicielle: Dance for your own heart. Dance for your own eternity. Never surrender yourself to the hands of fate! (Presto. She whirls into a frenzy of anguished, violent fouetté turns.) Vicielle: Dance, o candle flame of winter, dance! Vicielle: Clamor and turmoil, pain and tears, laughter and happiness... Life, o life! Vicielle: Life is but a fleeting solo dance: one is only briefly alive with music and mirth before they fade into silence as the curtain falls... ... Variation: Summer — Court Dance of the Royal House of Panditpura (The stage is bathed in a radiant golden light. Samsati, adorned in crimson robes heavy with gold ornaments, leaps onto center stage.) Samsati: I was once a princess of the glorious kingdom of Panditpura, born within a palace of gold, where all creation bowed before my throne. Samsati: My steps were as graceful as a royal elephant wandering among the lotus pools. My face bore the blessed radiance of the gods. Samsati: My father raised for me a lofty dais of gold and precious gems, while the devas filled the air with the sacred song of the Karrenay. Samsati: Yet... alas! Alas! The Lord of vaana loosed against me their pitiless flower-tipped arrow. Samsati: Its point was steeped in a poison to drive even the gods to madness; its fletching bore a charm to steal away the heart. Samsati: For that warrior, radiant in valor like the blazing sun, my heart forsook the path of dharma. Samsati: Clad in celestial armor, his divine earrings gleaming, he stood in godlike splendor, like the mighty king of Rishboland Tigers. (Samsati veils her face in anguish, then claws wildly at the air, as though wrestling an unseen serpent.) Samsati: I loved him. I loved him... I loved him! Yet he gave his heart to a temple dancer of lowly birth. Samsati: How could she be worthy of him? No more than a cur deserves the sacred offering laid beside the holy fire. Samsati: I would not spill her blood. Nor would I mar her skin, fairer than summer snow. Samsati: Yet she had to die. Else she would have led more noble men astray, until they raved like elephants drunk with madness. Samsati: What cruel mockery! The man I loved followed the one he loved, and together they withered like blossoms at dawn. Samsati: With a kiss, I bade farewell to his life. With a kiss, my own life's flame was brought to its end. Samsati: One last kiss... One last embrace... I would have slain him for love. I would have loved him to death... (Samsati's dance comes to an abrupt halt. She freezes in a deep lunge, her gaze fixed upon Odelya, who sits crumpled upon the floor.) Samsati: Ah, my dear sister, beware of Love! Samsati: It is a venomous viper. Whoever draws it to their breast offers their throat to its fangs. Samsati: Love is cruel. Samsati: Do not think your pride can drive Fate away. Even the gods, once touched by Love, cannot escape Fate's bargain. ... Variation: Autumn — The Stolen Veil (The final echo of the third bell fades into silence. The stage is washed in a deep midnight blue. A heavy, mournful cello begins to sing. Tatyana, clad as a white snow swan, moves across the frozen lake with agonizing slowness, her wings hanging limp as she struggles to remain aloft.) Tatyana: Happy dreams serve only to sharpen the cruelty of Fate, just as a festering wound knows the deepest pain. Tatyana: You long for the feelings of mortals, only because you have never tasted them. Tatyana: But hear me, my dear sister. Upon this stage, though huge, is but a scene in a play. The heavens have long arranged all. (Tatyana collapses upon the ice. Her arms stretch stiffly toward the sky, while her legs fall limp beneath her, as though life were leaving her body.) Tatyana: Love is weakness. Tatyana: Once the oath is broken, the skies shall forever be shut. Tatyana: Our lot shall be to struggle and sink within this filthy sludge, until the eternal darkness of autumn night swallows us whole. Tatyana: The bird that should once have belonged in the sky shall have its wings broken, and shall fall to the sullied soil. Is this what you wish for? (Tatyana lowers her arms and turns to Odelya, who has fallen to her knees beside her.) Tatyana: Fly, my dear, fly. Fly as your sisters do. Grieve not for the love that belongs to the earth. (Act III) ... (The stage is bathed in golden light. The snow swans, clad in flawless white gowns, stand in perfect symmetry. Queen Militsa presides from the center of her hall, gazing down upon Odelya as she slowly returns.) Militsa: You have returned, my Odelya, my poor child, my precious child. Militsa: You have witnessed the threefold tragedy. You have seen what becomes of those who yield to passion. Militsa: Love is sorrow. Love is cruel. Love is weakness. Militsa: Cleanse your wings, and ascend into eternity with us. Militsa: For every dawn that knows no dance is a dawn that hath denied life itself. (The snow swans spread their spotless wings, awaiting Odelya's allegiance.) Odelya: Mother, I have seen them fall. (Militsa inclines her head and extends a hand, beckoning Odelya toward the waters that will cleanse her wings.) Militsa: Then the truth stands revealed. Love and passion are the snare of Fate, the poison that steals into the soul. Variation: Winter — The Dance of Odelya Odelya: No, Mother. Quite the contrary. Odelya: Passion and love belong not to Fate, but to the heart alone. Odelya: The mortal heart is not weak. Neither are kindness, passion, or love. Odelya: The weakness was mine, for I feared to make them my wings. (Odelya suddenly rises. With wild, exultant freedom, she tears herself from the circle of snow swans and strides to center stage, launching into thirty-two fouettés. The chorus murmurs in astonishment.) Militsa: Think well, my poor child, my precious child. Militsa: You would forsake eternal purity, perfection that shall never fade. Odelya: And what is such eternity to me? Odelya: In eternity, there is nothing but an endless sky. All else is emptiness. All else is illusion. Odelya: Beyond it, there is nothing. Nothing at all. Odelya: No... not even the sky remains. There is only silence. Only stillness. Nothing more. Odelya: Only a lifeless void, unseen, unloved. Odelya: I want no such eternity. Odelya: I want to dance in that moment, that fleeting, beautiful moment that vanishes in the blink of an eye. Odelya: Beneath a true blue sky that makes my heart tremble. Odelya: Though it lasts but a moment. Though I must fall. Odelya: Love is passion, not sorrow. (The snow swans gather once more, enclosing Odelya in a sea of white.) Militsa: Passion has taken hold of your tongue, my dear Odelya. Odelya: Then let my passion be the voice that speaks. Militsa: Your passion shall be forsaken, betrayed, trampled underfoot, and torn asunder. Odelya: Then let it be. Odelya: Though it be forsaken a thousand times, it is still mine. Though it be betrayed a thousand times, it is still mine. My passion is mine. My love is mine. Odelya: And I am still myself. Militsa: Love is the snare of Fate. Odelya: No. Love is the blade that cuts Fate's snare. Odelya: If Fate would make love its chain, then love that will not be chained is the greatest defiance of all. (Militsa lowers her hands and stands motionless. The performers silently turn away, and in perfect formation, slowly retreat into the shadows of the curtain.) Militsa: I have no right to judge your choice, my dear Odelya, my poor child. Odelya: Nor do I have the right to judge yours, Mother. ... (The stage is lit by a single shaft of warm, radiant dawn, its golden crimson glow falling upon Odelya's dark silhouette.) Narrator: On that morning when there was no need to dance, the black snow swan quietly gazed at her reflection on the lake's surface. Narrator: The clouds, reclining beside the rising sun, were so close to her. It was as if she could reach them with a single flap of her wings. Odelya: If there were but one moment left in my life, I would soar as high as I could. Odelya: Reaching heights no snow swan has ever reached and daring to dream what no snow swan has ever dreamed. Odelya: I'll chase the shouting wind along, climbing alone as I go. Odelya: Higher, and higher... Odelya: Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue... Odelya: Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth. Odelya: I put out my hand, and touched the face of the divine. (She launches into a series of soaring turns. The spotlight follows her ascent. The music concludes with a slow, broad final chord.) (Curtain Falls)