STEVENSON'S CLEO SAILS.

STEVENSON'S CLEO SAILS HOUSTON BALLET BROWN THEATER, WORTH THEATER CENTER HOUSTON, TEXAS MARCH 9-19

An old friend--or perhaps friendly adversary would be more apt--the late Julian Brunswig, a founder of what is now the English National Ballet, once told me that if any choreographer came to him with a plan to make a ballet out of Oliver Twist he would instantly say yes. "People know the name, you see," he argued. I wonder how much similar name-recognition played in Ben Stevenson's choice of Cleopatra for his new full-evening ballet. Certainly that Serpent of the Nile had already attracted such cinematic divas as Elizabeth Taylor, Claudette Colbert and Vivien Leigh--and Stevenson's hot-tub-steamy ballet spectacular had a definite Hollywood glitter. It was glitter glinting through its lush John Lanchbery score culled from Rimsky-Korsakov, through those monumental settings by Thomas Boyd that would surely have reheated the heart of Cecil B. DeMille, and through its costuming by Judanna Lynn that was ornate enough to startle Tinseltown's legendary costumer, Edith Head.

And imperiously crowned and gowned at the world premiere amidst all this movie-style grandeur was, happily, an authentic star, Houston's ballet princess, its own Cleopatra, the superb, stunning Lauren Anderson. Stevenson's ballet was given with three alternating casts in all the major and minor roles, but let's make no mistake about it, the red carpet for this Cleopatra was really rolled out for the passions of Anderson, and it proved quite a role.

The cost of this Cleopatra--said to be a mere $1.2 million--seems cutting-room-floor small potatoes to the $40 million of Twentieth Century Fox money Joseph Mankiewicz lavished on his Taylor/Richard Burton epic. But by ballet standards it's really big potatoes, and straight off let us admit that Stevenson has given terrific value for money. While we are on the subject of hard cash, it is significant to note that, like Stevenson's earlier full-evening ventures to Lanchbery-contrived scores (Dracula and The Snow Maiden) this Cleopatra was a joint venture with other U.S. companies, in Cleo's case with the Boston Ballet and Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre. This partnering is becoming a practicable way of life for American classic companies, made the more practicable and attractive by the fact that companies do not tour as much as they did, and more than one company can share the cost of elaborate scenery and costumes.

This Cleopatra is a carefully crafted old-fashioned piece, highlighted with such visual climaxes as the Colbert-inspired bath, the Taylor-inspired grand entrance into Rome, or, essential to any proper Cleopatra, the huge barge rowed imperially down the Nile, the last being a wonderfully imagined and conceived piece of stagecraft.

Of course, this is not the first ballet Cleopatra. I still recall with some affection a full-evening Cleopatra created, almost astonishingly, by Murray Louis for the Royal Danish Ballet! But I suppose the best-known ballet Cleopatra was that of Michel Fokine in 1909 for the Diaghilev Ballets Russes, starring Ida Rubinstein in the mime role of the eponymous queen. This, to music chiefly by Arensky, had nothing to do with the historic Cleopatra, although in its original version the year before, called Une Nuit d'Egypte, Antony does make an appearance right at the end.

Stevenson's narrative, based on a scenario by D.L. Groover, has nothing in common with the Diaghilev/Rubinstein version, although choreographically it takes its cue from the old Ballets Russes style of exoticism (think Scheherazade). It was particularly influenced, I imagine, by photographs and descriptions of that Fokine Cleopatra, which, like Stevenson's now, used the upturned hands and rigid arms found in ancient Egyptian pictures and sculptures. Stevenson also employs a range of dance leitmotivs, characteristic steps for each character, which in places leads to a certain dance monotony, although Stevenson sidesteps this in his duets, which are typically fluent and imaginative. He is also adept at using the strong male ensemble he has developed in Houston, and some of the best dances are those for his highly athletic Roman senators before and after Julius Caesar's slaying in the Capitol.

Of the three casts I saw, Anderson's sinuous and sensuous Cleopatra is obviously the standout. But the role was also persuasively taken by a forcefully dramatic Dawn Scannell, and rather less convincingly by Barbara Bears, who danced neatly enough but did not seem a woman capable of rending the ancient world asunder. Among the Mark Antonys, Dominic Walsh, with Anderson, proved the best (the others, both worthy enough, were Yin Le and David Makhateli), but all three Caesars--Timothy O'Keefe, Jose Herrera and Phillip Broomhead--had the right, and seemingly much the same, avuncular authority.

Of the other roles, I was impressed by young Mauricio Canete as Ptolemy, Cleopatra's younger brother, who is given a fascinating duet with homoerotic overtones with Pothinus, the ballet's chief baddie. Pothinus was danced variously, but effectively, by Nicholas Leschke, the ubiquitous Broomhead (who took a different role in all three casts), and Lucas Priolo. Cleopatra's advisor, Alcebiades, who seemed to be a mixture of Shaw's Apollodorus and Shakespeare's Enobarbus, was in the capable hands of O'Keefe and, more particularly, Li Anlin, while both Broomhead and Leschke danced strongly as Octavius Caesar.

So this Cleopatra has now been launched. It floats with a certain stately majesty and will doubtless turn out to be a big audience pleaser wherever it plays. Some of the crowd scenes appear a little underpopulated, and the comparatively small expenditure on a few sword-carrying or kerchief-waving extras would not come amiss. C.B. DeMille could have told them that.