The Sleeping Beauty
Music
Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky
(Op. 66, 1889)
Choreography
Marius Petipa
Production Concept and Additional Choreography
Peter Boal
Staging
Peter Boal (2025)
Doug Fullington (2025)
Scenic Design
Preston Singletary
Projection Design
Wendall K. Harrington
Costume Design
Paul Tazewell
Puppetry Design
Basil Twist
Lighting Design
Reed Nakayama
Associate Scenic Design
Charlene Hall
Duration
2 hours and 40 minutes
Cast
Full company and students
Premiere
January 31, 2025; Pacific Northwest Ballet
PNB’s world premiere of The Sleeping Beauty is principally supported by Leslie & Tachi Yamada, Susan Brotman, Glenn Kawasaki, Chap & Eve Alvord, Peter & Peggy Horvitz, along with many generous individuals.
Program Notes
Since its creation in 1890 in St. Petersburg, Russia, The Sleeping Beauty has been a pillar of the classical ballet repertory. Its score by Tchaikovsky and choreography by Marius Petipa represent one of the greatest collaborative achievements in music and dance in the 19th century. Pacific Northwest Ballet’s production of The Sleeping Beauty is also the product of collaboration: a team of artists assembled and led by Artistic Director Peter Boal has come together to create a new version of the enduring classic.
Peter’s vision for The Sleeping Beauty sees the ballet set in a timeless fantasy world inspired by the natural beauty of the Pacific Northwest and Northwest Coast art. First-time scenic designer Preston Singletary, working with associate scenic designer Charlene Hall, has combined his expertise as a glass artist with elements of his Tlingit cultural heritage to create the signature scenic element of the production, the Eagle Staircase. Preston also suggested the association between two characters found in Tlingit stories—Eagle, a symbol of power, and Raven, a shapeshifting, troublemaking trickster—and The Sleeping Beauty’s Lilac Fairy and Carabosse, who represent the yin and yang of fairy godmotherhood. The ballet’s monarchs, originally “King Florestan XIV” (a nod to the French King Louis XIV) and “The Queen,” have been renamed by Peter as King and Queen Papillon, both a play on the term “monarch” (“papillon” means “butterfly” in French) and a contribution to the production’s diverse menagerie of nature-inspired characters.
In the spirit of The Sleeping Beauty’s fantasy setting, costume designer Paul Tazewell has drawn on multiple inspirations. Most significantly, he has incorporated formlines—flowing patterns of lines that are a fundamental design element of Northwest Coast art and a prominent feature of Preston’s glass art—into nearly every costume design. Some of the formlines have been hand drawn by Preston, while others are more abstract representations. The scenery and costumes are augmented by the projected animation and still images designed by Wendall K. Harrington, and Reed Nakayama’s lighting design serves not only to enhance the dancing but to guide the audience as they follow the story. Puppetry designer Basil Twist has added a further dimension to The Sleeping Beauty with his unique designs for Carabosse’s nest of mice and the Ogre in pursuit of Hop o’ My Thumb and his brothers.
To stage the dances, we’ve used choreographic notes made by Nikolai Sergeyev, one of Petipa’s rehearsal directors at the Imperial Ballet, during 1903–1906. Sergeyev’s notes document Petipa’s choreography, mime, and stage action and over the years have contributed to the rich history and longevity of The Sleeping Beauty. They were used by Sergeyev to restage The Sleeping Beauty for the Imperial Ballet at St. Petersburg’s fabled Mariinsky Theatre during the years following Petipa’s death, for the historic 1921 Ballets Russes production in London, and for the 1939 Royal Ballet (then called Vic-Wells Ballet) production that re-opened Covent Garden after World War II in 1946. (The Royal Ballet production was also the basis for Ronald Hynd’s staging of The Sleeping Beauty danced by PNB during the years 2001–2019.)
The choreographic notes allowed us to bypass decades of changes made to The Sleeping Beauty and brought us closer to what Petipa created. We’ve not only restored steps but also the speed and musicality that more faithfully represent Tchaikovsky’s score. Our goal has been to remain faithful to Petipa’s choreography while allowing the dancers to move in ways that feel natural to them today.
As we worked with both the notes and the ballet’s 1890 libretto, we found elements in the original conception of the story that seem a better fit with today’s sensibilities than some of the revisions made to The Sleeping Beauty in the 20th century. For example, Aurora is twenty years old when we first meet her, not sixteen (a change made for the 1921 production). When she is introduced to her four suitors, her father makes clear that her choice of marriage partner is her own. More broadly, we found in the fairytale a story that embodies a range of metaphysical ideas about existence, personhood, destiny, causality, space, time, and the balance of good and evil. Carabosse, as it turns out, isn’t the ultimate evil. Once her curse is mitigated and seen through to its end, balance is restored. She attends the wedding of Aurora and Désiré—why would the court risk not inviting her again? Aurora and Désiré, each a model of exemplary character, have their own destinies: Aurora’s destiny is to bring her family and her kingdom forward one hundred years in time, thus intersecting with Désiré’s coming of age and allowing him to find purpose as the awakener and ultimately the partner of the Sleeping Beauty.
The role of Aurora is an unusual one in the canon of 19th-century ballet because it is expressed almost solely through dance instead of the usual combination of dance and mime. Rather than an ordinary human or fantastical creature, Aurora represents idealism and aspiration. Her outer beauty surely represents her inner goodness. In a stroke of theatrical genius, Petipa structured each scene of the ballet around a centerpiece dance that arrives at a climax in which Aurora, placed at centerstage, is glorified—first as an infant blessed by her godmothers at her christening in Scene 1, then as an idealized young person full of joy and confidence during the Rose Adagio in Scene 2, as a goddess heralding the dawn of a new age during Désiré’s vision in Scene 3, and finally as a consummate being who has fulfilled her destiny in Scene 5.
But although Aurora is different from the leads in other heritage ballets, she is the same in an important way. Like Giselle, Swanilda, Paquita, and a host of others, Aurora drives the action and the narrative, overwhelming the stage with energy from her first entrance. Even in her sleep, she actively draws Désiré to her, and later she declares her love for him during their wedding duet. Aurora isn’t a passive heroine, but an active, lively, exhilarating character who we believe can still inspire and uplift us today.
Program notes by Doug Fullington.
The Sleeping Beauty Story
There’s a place along the western oceanic coast where madrone trees bend gently toward the sea. Lofty eagles soar above while mischievous ravens dart below and the monarch butterflies are known to return to this spot each spring, boasting brilliant black and saffron wings. In this mythical place, a tiny baby was born. Her name was Aurora.
You ask when she was born? It was on a day when the dawn was more beautiful than ever before, a specific day right in the middle of a time long ago and a distant future. On this day, the dawn glow brought radiant sunshine and elaborate celebrations in the house of Queen and King Papillion. For many years, the Papillons had lived happily in the realm of the eagle, with only one wish: they longed for a child who promised longevity and good fortune for their family. Aurora was the fulfillment of their wish.
Catalabutte oversaw all court activities at the house of Papillon, or so he believed. His trusty, and at times untrusty, footman assisted with plans and preparations for festivities. I cannot tell you how many hours were spent reviewing the guest list. All the good fairies had been invited, including the wondrous and benevolent Lilac Fairy. Each would bring a gift for Princess Aurora. These offerings would allow Aurora to fulfill her destiny. The Lilac Fairy was to be the last to present her gift. In addition to the fairies, there were oh-so-many members of the court, honored guests from nearby lands, countless pages, and beloved members of the Papillon family. Yes, the guest list was checked and rechecked by King, Queen, and footman, and then checked once more. No one had been forgotten, or so they thought.
Well, they thought wrong. They had neglected to invite the grumpiest of all the fairies, Carabosse. Oh, what a temper she had! Even before her thunderous entrance into the hall on that once-sunny day, clouds covered the sky, and the darkest of shadows pushed its way across the land. Carabosse was a shapeshifter and often traveled as a raven, which represented her side of the realm. Guests saw the raven’s shadow approach, then her slithery mice scurried across the floor, and finally her chariot trundled into the Celebration Hall. A feeling of doom spread across the room.
Now, you must understand Carabosse was part of the Papillon family, too. She was not evil, just grumpy, and especially so since she had not been included. Her anger got the better of her on that fateful day when she decided to put a curse on baby Aurora. She proclaimed before the Queen, King, fairies, pages, and distinguished guests that on Aurora’s twentieth birthday she would indeed embody all the gifts the other fairies had given, but she would also prick her finger on a spindle and die. Then she laughed.
On this most glorious day of joy and celebration, there could be no greater shock, no more tragic omen. This was unthinkable, even for Carabosse. But one fairy had yet to bestow her gift on Aurora. It was the Lilac Fairy. Did I mention she was both wondrous and benevolent? What I may not have mentioned was Carabosse could be a bit of a thorn in Lilac’s side, and let me tell you, the reverse was true, too. You might say Lilac rained on Carabosse’s parade in that moment, but it felt more like the clouds cleared and the sun returned to those gathered in the hall. The Lilac Fairy’s prophecy honored Carabosse’s prediction to a point. Back then, fairies couldn’t just overrule other fairies. Aurora indeed would thrive and blossom until her twentieth birthday, when she would prick her finger on a spindle, but she would not die. Instead, she would sleep. She would slumber along with all the people throughout the land for one hundred years, while serpentine vines would enshroud everything and everyone.
Whose prediction came true? Excellent question. Whether you tell time by tides or timepiece, sundial or seasons, let us step twenty years into the future, when we find ourselves at the princess’s birthday celebration. Though some in the realm worried about the day, most lived in the glow of the house of Papillon awaiting Aurora’s milestone. The King and Queen fretted when a clutch of knitters was spotted that morning on the esplanade with spindles. You see, spindles had been banned from the realm twenty years prior, and yet there they were. Offending spindles were confiscated, and naughty knitters were scolded, but not punished, thanks to the Queen’s mercy.
The Ceremonial Hall was resplendent in anticipation of the occasion. Elegantly dressed heirs from neighboring lands attended the grand celebration. Guests wondered whether Aurora might fancy one of them. Her proud parents, the Queen and King, understood she should marry for love and agreed the choice was hers to make. How splendid each heir was! Aurora was honored by their presence and enchanted by their acquaintance, but true love eluded her on that day.
Another knitter appeared and offered Aurora a beguiling birthday gift. It was a spindle. Aurora had never seen one. She was curious and at an age when curiosity bests parents’ concerns. Suddenly, the spindle pricked her finger, just as a dark cloud crossed the sun. Some say they saw the shadow of a raven appear moments before the knitter revealed her identity. Yes, you guessed it—Carabosse. Some worried Carabosse’s curse had come true, and the beautiful princess would soon die, but others knew the prediction of the Lilac Fairy would prevail and the story of destiny was now in motion. Princess Aurora, the Papillon family, and everyone in the hall soon fell asleep as silent vines started to grow.
Another sundial reset and many moons later, reaching one hundred years into the future, we encounter a kindhearted prince named Désiré, who longed to find his purpose in life. While picnicking in the woods with his hunting party, a fussy duchess, an overbearing baroness, his squire, several hunters and huntresses, and some locals who love to dance, Désiré sought solace on the banks of the River of Time. Here he encountered the Lilac Fairy, who presented him with a vision of Aurora. At first, the princess was sleeping, and in her repose, she was oh-so-beautiful. One might have even called her a sleeping beauty. The prince was enraptured by the vision as she beckoned to him. Quite smitten, he declared his love for Aurora to the Lilac Fairy and implored her to take him to the sleeping princess.
The Lilac Fairy seemed to know exactly what to do next. She understood our kindhearted prince had just found his purpose in life. She offered him some sound advice and a Sword of Destiny. The two boarded her glittering boat, helmed by her page, and they set off down the River of Time.
The Lilac Fairy brought Désiré to the Papillon home in no time. Their house was unrecognizable under the web of serpentine vines. Désiré did not know what to do. The Lilac Fairy urged him to heed her sound advice, and he did. He swung the Sword of Destiny at one of the vines. Dozens of twisty tendrils started to retreat—rising and falling away—revealing a clearer vision of the sleeping Princess Aurora. Désiré then asked the Lilac Fairy’s permission to awaken the princess with a tender kiss. She encouraged him to do so as destiny took hold. Désiré scaled the legendary Eagle Staircase with the beautiful princess asleep atop the royal landing. He approached and gently placed a kiss on her forehead. The princess awoke, and in that moment, there was an explosion of butterflies throughout the Ceremonial Hall and across the land.
What’s left of this happy ending? Well, there was a wedding, and it was a celebration like none other. Dear old Catalabutte returned as the royal planner of festivities, and this time he had done everything correctly. Yes, he even invited Carabosse, who was almost unrecognizable, wrapped in a new mood and carrying a warm heart. Glittering jewels and precious metals dance for the court. Princess Florine, the winged Blue Bird, the White Cat, Puss in Boots, Red Riding Hood and a Wolf who resembled Catalabutte all danced for a court of fairytale characters. Just before the wedding dance, we see Hop o’ my Thumb and his siblings steal the towering Ogre’s boots. Carabosse loved and laughed at the angry Ogre, and we wonder if she saw herself in him. Aurora and Désiré performed the wedding pas de deux. During the dance, Aurora declared her love for Désiré before her parents and all the court. Their bond was as beautiful as the dawn and as enduring as the day. It was a proud moment for the Papillons. From that day forth, everyone in the land lived happily ever after.
Updated 12/10/2024