
On February 14-22 at Keller Auditorium, Oregon Ballet Theatre presented Giselle, one of ballet’s most celebrated productions. The rendition was choreographed by Tiit Helimets, principal dancer with the San Francisco Ballet, and Dani Rowe, OBT’s artistic director since February 2023. The two took inspiration from the work’s original 1841 choreographers, Jean Coralli and Jules Perrot; the ballet was later revised by Marius Petipa in 1884 and premiered at the Imperial Mariinsky Theatre in St. Petersburg.
In a time when ticket sales for live performances have generally dwindled, it was refreshing to see a packed auditorium of audience members excited for the production, with a will-call line so long that the show was delayed a few extra moments to accommodate seating.
When the house was ready, the lights dimmed and the overture, composed by Adolphe Adam, began. Conductor Nicholas Fox led the musicians with ease, and the curtains rose to a bewitching scene. Details of the luscious scenic design by Peter Farmer, courtesy of Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre, drew the eye first. The set was sublime, inviting the audience into an idyllic, layered, and textured natural world of greens, blues, and violets where Giselle, Hilarion, and the other villagers resided.
The costumes, also by Peter Farmer via Pittsburgh Ballet, were nearly as impeccable as the set, displaying gorgeous warm hues against delicate skirts — a believable and timeless wardrobe that looked rich in quality and elevated the overall production with its classic style. This was not the first Giselle OBT has done, but it may be one of the prettiest.

The story of Giselle opens on an autumnal morning with a harvest festival in Rhineland, Germany, during the approximate Middle Ages. A young and lovely peasant girl named Giselle lives in the village, where she and the others celebrate the season with dance. One day, a nobleman named Duke Albrecht of Silesia comes to the town.
Albrecht, despite being engaged to the Duke of Courland’s daughter Bathilde, is drawn to Giselle. He sees that he can potentially take advantage of her youth, beauty, and impressionable manner, so he calls upon his squire to help disguise him as a villager named Loys. Meanwhile, a true villager, the local gamekeeper named Hilarion, is already madly in love with Giselle and becomes weary of the new visitor. Despite Giselle’s mother rooting for her relationship with Hilarion, Giselle falls for the disguised Albrecht.
Later, a hunting party of nobles comes to town — a huge ordeal for the humble peasants. It is at that time Albrecht’s true identity — and betrothal to another of noble birth, Bathilde — are uncovered, and Giselle flies into a fit of madness. After a tumultuous scene of grief and chaos, Giselle dances herself to death, perishing in the arms of her so-thought lover, Albrecht, as her mother weeps for her.
In some more traditional versions, Giselle stabs herself on Albrecht’s sword, leading to a suicide burial in the forest beneath an unmarked grave. In OBT’s portrayal, Giselle “dances wildly until her heart gives out”, according to the program’s synopsis, and “falls lifeless into the arms of her devastated mother.”
While it is popular to contemporize familiar works of dance in hopes of drawing newer and younger audiences, ultra-modernizing the classics in an attempt to add relevance can be a true disservice — especially in a work so already relevant to our times. OBT’s execution of Giselle, despite some performance marketing suggesting a more contemporary rendition, was for the most part joyfully classic.
Most of the apparent changes appeared in the choice of character presentation. Giselle, who should be delicate, traditionally feminine, diminutive, and in need of protection, appeared to have a spritely and cheeky personality. Albrecht, who must be portrayed as arrogant, pompous, self-serving, and demanding to be believed, tended to be jolly and self-pleased rather than self-possessed. Instead of meeting Giselle and deciding to utilize her for his egoic purposes, eventually falling in love with her in the process, Simoens’ Albrecht swooned for the protagonist immediately — a choice that quietly removes the narrative anecdote for the treatment of the lower class.

Giselle is undoubtedly a romance, but first and foremost it is a tale of tragedy and manipulation. The ballet distinctly chronicles the exploitation of the peasantry by the aristocratic class. This familiar narrative, which is particularly poignant in today’s social and political landscape, depends wholly on the playing of the performers. Giselle, danced by Jessica Lind, and Albrecht, performed by John-Paul Simoens, were tasked with executing the narrative core of the ballet, whose success urgently depended on their acting abilities.
Act I introduced the corps de ballet as villagers and noblemen with a choreographically excellent use of space. While some moments, such as the entrance of the nobles, asked the audience to suspend their disbelief when it came to possessing a royal tone, the entrance of Lind’s Giselle was pleasant.
Her excellent technique shone from start to finish, and though she danced well with Hilarion, performed by Benjamin Simoens, it was clear from the start that a romantic chemistry with her male counterparts would not be present. As Hilarion became jealous of newcomer Albrecht and the two jostled for Giselle’s attention, an assertion for dominance was lacking. Aggressive acts such as pushing and blocking appeared passive, and the anguish of competing for the woman of their dreams against a rival didn’t read on the performers’ faces.
As the act progressed, Lind was dainty and light on her feet, breezing beautifully through a work that is known for its difficult choreography. Her gorgeous lines and projected perfectionism displayed effortlessly while her blue dress swirled wildly as she executed perfectly satisfying piques. Lind’s technique was incredibly strong and impressive, making her an apt choice for the coveted role.
Benjamin Simoens danced alongside Lind as the pining Hilarion, while John-Paul Simoens as Albrecht wowed with gorgeous grand allegros. Though the dancing was relatively strong throughout — barring quite a few missed landings from the men and general slipping from Myrtha, Queen of the Wilis, danced by Eva Burton — it was the miming and dramatics that lacked. When it came to the interpersonal and narrative drama, the swelling music seemed to drive the story more than the performers did.
A bright moment punctuated Act I as Juliette Ochoa and Bailey Shaw performed the peasant pas de deux. Ochoa, whose dancing was strong, crisp, and clean, exuded an air of sweetness and joy. Her epaulement juxtaposed her dagger-like feet as even simple movements inspired light gasps from the audience. She was a bright breath of fresh air in pale yellow, landing pirouettes on a dime and embodying her period-piece character. Shaw lifted Ochoa with ease, and the two exuded a lively exhilaration that such celebratory scenes and big ballets require.
After a 25-minute intermission, Act II opened to an equally radiant and mystical scene, complete with moonlit fog floating atop the stage and Giselle’s grave freshly marked with a cross. Burton appeared as Myrtha, danced with a heavy and serious tonality. Her movement was direct and grounded, performed with a severe and threatening air. Here began the onset of an act steeped in Albrecht’s desperation, powerless to the torment of the Wilis — maidens who were scorned and betrayed by men, many abandoned on the days of their weddings.
As Hilarion goes to throw himself on Giselle’s grave in grief and guilt, he becomes fearful of the Wilis. He first flees, but is doomed to drown in the lake when he returns. Albrecht, who is first unable to see himself clearly or understand the weight of his consequences, is stricken with remorse in the second act, where a true love for Giselle unexpectedly blossoms despite his initial egoic actions. He ventures into the woods to seek her forgiveness but is met by Myrtha, who commands him to dance. Albrecht pleads and begs, Simoens doing so with sections of high-energy jumps and turns, including impeccably danced and mercilessly repetitive entrechat quatres and other jumps that left the audience cheering and rooting for his character.

When Giselle, now in ghost form, enters this scene, she is the epitome of waify and ethereal. Her arms suddenly take on new softness and beauty as she dances her final moments with technical strength — all punctuated by the satisfyingly iconic arabesque sequences of the corps de ballet. As Lind and Simoens danced, the desperation and tragedy that had at first lacked in their character acting, became visible. The more exhausted the pair became during their closing pas de deux, the more freely and beautifully they moved, abandoning themselves to the music and, therefore, allowing for a refreshing authenticity and embodiment to at last infiltrate their actions.
When danced and acted well, the tremendous difficulty of Giselle is what helps put viewers on the edge of their seat; compelling them to have a stake in the fates of the characters. When acted without total immersion, the point is easily lost. It was in these few key moments that this investment from Lind and Simoes finally took place, if only for a short time. Despite Albrecht’s desperate dancing and Giselle’s pleading for his life, the two are doomed to tragedy. Giselle ascends to Heaven as the curtain closes on Albrecht — who has seemingly learned his lesson — lightly shaking his fist in disgust.
“Giselle is a ballet, first and foremost, about dancing,” longtime Oregon ArtsWatch writer and dance critic Martha Ullman West reminded me. In Giselle’s first entrance, she dances in celebration of the harvest season alongside the other peasants. She dances with joy as she falls in love with Albrecht, later dancing to impress the visiting noble family.
Giselle literally dances herself to death in her fit of madness after learning of her betrayal. Later, her betrayer, Albrecht, must dance as punishment, nearly joining her. Though the distinct flavors of a love story encircle the ballet, particularly when referred to in popular culture, Giselle is moreso a parable about class disparity; a theme disappointingly watered down by OBT’s albeit well-danced production.
Class divide, maneuvering, and power dynamics based on social class are the major factors that drive the narrative, from Albrecht’s actions and Giselle’s helplessness to Hilarion’s interpreted lack of value as a suitor. Albrecht’s air of mystery overshadows the danger of a stranger in the village, while the visitation of a noble family is cause for extreme celebration, distraction, and ruckus in the otherwise small and peaceful peasant town.
This, while often strongly overexemplified, is commonly showcased in more modern remakings such as Akram Khan’s Giselle, in which Giselle is portrayed as a factory worker and Albrecht as a wealthy company owner; or in Donald Byrd’s Life Situations: Daydreams on Giselle, a postmodern reworking through a feminist lens. Rather than liberationist re-envisioning or traditional exemplum, OBT’s Giselle sits allegorically in the middle, forgoing the messaging so apt for our time — and in short, what the ballet is about — instead, focusing on the execution of the inherent beauty of this big ballet.
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Oregon Ballet Theatre continues its 2024/2025 season with Marilyn: Her Life. The Untold Story, a fictional look at the life and experiences of 36-year-old Marilyn Monroe through the point of view of the icon herself. This contemporary ballet world premiere by Dani Rowe in a co-production with BalletMet and Tulsa Balletand features an original score by Shannon Rugani and costumes by Emma Kingsbury. Tickets are now available for the nine available show dates, beginning Friday, April 4 at 7:30 p.m. at the Newmark Theatre, with a special “LGBTQIA+ Affinity Night” on Friday, April 11.
Oh, and another note- does anyone know what happened with Carly Wheaton that kept her from continuing as Giselle? I hope she’s not injured, and again, I wish I could have seen her turn as a Wili. It must have been a last minute thing because no announcements were made.
I was just confused for a moment when Charlotte Nash who had just danced as Myrtha suddenly was doing Giselle’s steps. And I was then able to slip back into the story, and Charlotte was amazing. It just was a surprise, and turned out to be a gift to see. Charlotte hadn’t danced Giselle in this run and stepping in at what must have been a moment’s notice was phenomenal. And I think Eva Burton stepped in to take over as Myrtha, too.
I attended the afternoon performance on 2/22. In which we got to see Giselle danced by two different dancers, more on that later.
Giselle is in the top 5 of my favorite ballets and I greatly enjoyed OBT’s production in 2012. This also was my first time seeing many of these company members dance a big classical ballet, so I had a lot of expectations. And the dancing was precise, moving, light, and for the show I saw, I was delighted by the energy of Carly Wheaton in act one. Normally act one is just okay, but the lightness of the atmosphere and the energy of the company actually made the betrayal seem more moving at the moment Giselle dies. I certainly did see some of the points you mentioned about the change in tone. But the emotional connection between Carly and Benjamin Simoens was very compelling. I could see Carly becoming Giselle and the dancer slipped away.
I would have loved to have seen Carly dance in her Wili form. However, Charlotte Nash literally went from dancing Myrtha to becoming Giselle.
And Charlotte was impeccable, graceful, and she carried out every step like she was floating. And Benjamin’s Albrecht was such a moving, emotional companion to her spirit. I normally don’t give a care about his character, yet I felt a sorrow and tenderness in this version that yes, may be considered being more of a “happy” ending, but it was also surprisingly moving.
But there’s indeed room for both interpretations. If you’ve had a chance to see Ankrom Kham’s Giselle, there’s always room to breath more depth and carry the story in many ways, and I’m glad to see them, too.
Myrtha doesn’t do any pirouettes so not sure how they could be slippery. While the change in Albrecht may lose the classist message of the original, Albrecht actually loving Giselle lends itself better to the story of why he is spared by her after her death. Not every work of art has to be a reflection of society. Some things are made to be enjoyed for what they are.
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