When my friend and I saw that the tickets to see the American Ballet Theater (ABT) perform Crime and Punishment at The Kennedy Center had gone on sale for students, we rushed to purchase them. Twenty dollars to see ABT perform an entirely new adaptation of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s most chilling psychological thriller was an incredible steal.
Dostoevsky’s 1866 novel follows a Russian student, Raskolnikov, who is determined to prove his new philosophical theory of morality, as he believes that certain “extraordinary” individuals are exempt from moral law. In the aftermath of his murdering of a pawnbroker, he is faced with guilt and suffering which his theory did not foresee. A complex novel filled with dark inner dialogue and conflict, I was excited to see how Crime and Punishment would translate to the stage as Raskolnikov finds his path towards redemption.
What I had not anticipated was that a quarter of the audience would not return after intermission.
Though some ballet critics are apprehensive towards the more contemporary, flex-footed type of movement in neoclassical ballets, I was intrigued by the posters of corps dancers in sharp, angular poses. As the corps members represented a poverty- and crime-stricken population of St. Petersburg in 19th century Russia, I was hoping to get more of a glimpse into the struggle and desperation of the characters through these atypical ballet movements. However, these moments were thoroughly underwhelming; the harsh and raw movements had promises of power, but certain dancers seemed to deliver them softly instead. Alyssa Strezoski (MSB ’27) noted, “Act 2 felt much more familiar for ABT as a whole… clearly better-rehearsed corps and choreography playing on their classical strengths rather than a neoclassical style better-suited to New York City Ballet.”
Despite its more disappointing stylistic choices, this production pioneered not only in that it was choreographed by Helen Pickett, the first female choreographer to be commissioned for a full-length ballet with ABT, but in its approach to gender-neutral casting. While Herman Cornejo played the role of the protagonist the night we watched, Cassandra Trenary typically plays the role.
Gender-bend casting is not necessarily uncommon in ballet, but it typically involves a male attempting to play the role of a female, or vice versa. However, this Raskolnikov wears androgynous clothing—black pants, a white tank top, and a signature red handkerchief around the neck. Pickett conveyed that her adaptation of this novel intended to highlight a central theme of humanity within this novel. This gender-neutral casting achieved this by displaying how themes of morality and guilt transcend the confines of gender or character.
Cornejo’s depiction of Raskolnikov relied heavily on angst and a deep sense of dissatisfaction with the world around him, sometimes to a fault. As the ballet opened, he took control of the stage with his strong and grounded movement and spatially generous blocking, weaving in and out of unaffected corps dancers. However, as the production progressed, I found myself begging for a disruption in his constant anxiety. Being familiar with the plotline of Dostoyevsky’s novel, I anticipated a clear character arc, but by the end of the ballet, I felt more exhausted by the repetition in Cornejo’s movement.
Sonya, danced by the remarkable Skylar Brandt, was a standout character. Her passionate and captivating movement established her as a strong and caring young girl in the midst of unspeakable tragedy. Sonya’s innocence and tenderness were manifested in her simple yellow dress and blue cardigan, creating a contrast with the muted grey colors worn by the corps. Brandt’s elegant performance of Sonya is most vivid in parallel to Cornejo’s chaotic interpretation of Raskolnikov. The value of Sonya’s friendship to Raskolnikov becomes apparent as her presence drives their movement to blend together in rhythm, temporarily pulling him away from the disarray of his internal monologue. Even amidst her own suffering, having lost both her parents, Sonya uses her own body to lift up that of Raskolnikov, who is overcome by a different type of pain.
Another key feature of Pickett’s production was the use of mixed media in conveying the plot of this ballet. While classical ballets typically involve a plethora of set changes and special effects, the set of Crime and Punishment was rather unique. The set was minimal, consisting mainly of three large walls; yet, the constant moving of these walls was distracting, taking away from the production more they were able to add.
However, even more unconventional was the use of a semi-transparent screen that fell at the end of the stage, displaying pre-recorded videos. This screen appeared in the opening of the ballet as a trailer introducing the plot. While this overlay between the dancer and the screen added a level of complexity, giving insight to Raskolnikov’s conscience, clips of blood splattered on a page were tasteless and distracted from the raw emotion of the dancers. In addition to this, words would appear on the backdrop of the set narrating a scene change. This reliance on literal narration and technology during a professional ballet performance is something I had never seen before, and made me feel I had gone to see a movie with subtitles instead of a ballet.
Taking on a Dostoevsky novel is no doubt a challenging feat, and I applaud any choreographer willing to take on such a complex story and attempt to unravel it in only two hours. But if you’re going to take the risk in tackling this complicated story, then you need to dive in fully. There is no room for hesitation. As the scenes changed, there would often be flashes of words on the screen such as, “Raskolnikov commits a murder. He wrestles with the consequences of his actions.” Not only did these narrations feel like a cheap crutch to help the audience understand, but they often took away from the suspense and anticipation in a scene to come. Ballet is not simply a theater performance without words. It is an entirely different language, and the literal translations took away from the story that was being told by the dancer’s body.
But it seems Crime and Punishment comes with a redeeming quality for each shortcoming it has. Isobel Waller-Bridge is the first woman to compose a full-length score for ABT, a huge accomplishment that shines side-by-side Pickett’s. Yet the score lacked a clear momentum, leaving me waiting for the moment when Cornejo and the other dancer’s anxiety, relentless suffering, and frustration would fester and explode. I awaited something in the score that represented some kind of change—a moment that never came.
Another issue with the score was that it was often difficult to see a clear connection between the dancers and the music. I constantly found myself attempting to put myself in the dancers’ shoes, trying to imagine how they were keeping count of the repetitive score. One of the beauties of having a live orchestra in a dance performance is their ability to be in conversation with the dancers on stage. This communication was lost in most scenes with the exception of the pas de deux between Dunja (Christine Shevchenko) and Razumikhin (Aran Bell), which contained a sort of dance between the music and dancers as one picked up where the other left off.
In fact, it was in the pas de deux that the individual aspects of the ballet came together for the first time. What Pickett may have been lacking in cohesiveness, she certainly made up for in theatrics. The subtle and delicate choreography between these two characters, revealed Pickett’s attention to detail in conveying an intimate and passionate relationship. Both Bell and Shevchenko were outstanding in this production, and my eye was immediately drawn to either of them on stage.
The ballet concluded on a snowy night where Sonya visits Raskolnikov in prison. In this final scene, the orchestra took a breath amidst the high-tempo score. While Raskolnikov is imprisoned in the bottom left of the stage, Sonya descends gracefully from a doorway of light from the top right. Emerging from the light with calm falling snow, staging choices made in this final scene painted Sonya as a beacon of hope for Raskolnikov as he began his journey towards true redemption.
Though this ballet was stagnant in dynamics and score, the innovative choreography and composition, diverging from classical ballet, left me intrigued to see more from Pickett. “Pickett definitely has something of great first draft in the experimental neoclassical realm. While the storyline was at times difficult to follow, it was nice to see something original,” Strezoski concluded. The most notable parts of this performance were the intimate and dramatized character-driven scenes, and it was exciting to see ABT try on a new style, even if not fully polished. As I left the theater, I was still happy to have attended this performance, but I might not have felt the same way if my ticket had not been on sale.
