When ABT premiered Alexei Ratmansky’s Whipped Cream at the Segerstrom Center five years ago, there were tables set up in the lobby with huge containers of candy. For $6, you got an empty box into which you shoveled as much candy as possible before carrying it into the theater to enjoy during the performance. During Act I there was that expected moment when you thought “Ugh, I’ve eaten too much of this stuff — the stomach feels sick, but the buzz in the brain is fantastic.” And then after a little while, you plowed back into the candy again. What was happening in the story on stage was literally happening throughout the audience at the same time.
Then when the show moved to New York, everybody got all serious and nixed the candy. "Have a cocktail, instead, for $20,” we were urged. Nah, bring your own candy! Twizzlers, root beer barrels, chocolate covered anything — bring your own candy. It will make this delicious, caramelized production all the more enjoyable. Whipped Cream is a scrumptious, delightful affair that ABT has reprised with new intense flavoring during its current run at the Koch Theater.
Designer Mark Ryden shows us the brain on acid. His Snow Yak, Long Neck Piggy, Gumball Lady, and that freaking bouncing out-of-control Bumblebee are to die for. The big-headed Priest with his moralizing gaze, the even bigger-headed Doctor who manages to get his hands under The Boy's hospital bed sheet after which he dips into the booze, the battalion of Nurse Ratcheds with their nightmarish, rocket-sized syringes — all of it mixed in with the sweetest little tea flowers and spices — you can’t imagine-up this stuff without pharmaceutical help.
On Thursday and Friday nights, ABT’s dancers performed superbly while the non-dancing Extras nearly stole the show. The company looks so inspired when they dance Ratmansky’s works. Jonathan Klein, slightly wrestling with the overwhelming reality of leading Opening Night, was in top form as The Boy who indulges in too much whipped cream, ends up in the hospital, and has an awful nightmare. May Klein have many more Opening Nights in his future — in our future. His solos were packed with goodies and his characterization was true. The second performance saw Daniil Simkin reprise his original role with the crazy, over-the-top pyrotechnical embellishes that are fructose to his fans. Simkin was out to make us believers. He didn’t just politely taste the whipped cream; he stuck his whole face in the bowl. Who hasn’t done that? Well, you’re all liars.
Skylar Brandt took Princess Praline to a new level on opening night. Her brilliance came so easily and so boldly. It was breathtaking to see that level of technical authority on stage. She was, in fact, the very top tier of the beautiful cake that becomes the focal point at the party. Breanne Granlund successfully debuted in the role on the following night but had a couple of technical issues. We look forward to seeing how ABT develops her artistry.
Christine Shevchenko and Calvin Royal danced the roles of Princess Tea Flower and Prince Coffee on opening night while Devon Teuscher and Cory Stearns danced the second night. Both couples were charming and persuasive. Shevchenko offered more effervescence while Teuscher’s brew had more subtle flavors. Royal’s dancing continues to improve rapidly. It seems to rise a level or two every time he has to dance a Ratmansky role. Stearns is still capable of doing most of what he has always done, and on the second night he incorporated real energy into the characterization of Prince Coffee.
Joseph Gorak and Eric Tamm shared the role of Prince Cocoa, and each danced brilliantly. Why is it we see so little of them? Blaine Hoven’s Slivovitz with his concern for his manicure was hysterical along with Catherine Hurlin and Connor Holloway on opening night and Zhong-Jing Fang and Joao Menegussi on the second night. Each cast mixed up a potent cocktail of comedy and fun.
The H.H. Pump Bump Award is bestowed upon –– wait, there’s a tie –– Long Neck Piggy and Skylar Brandt for their brilliance and imagination on opening night.