Il Balletto di Giselle

One of my fondest memories from my "Visit History" travels in high school was going to see the opera Carmen at the Vienna State Opera House. Growing up, I have always loved going to the theater and getting lost in the performance on stage. I have also spent many years of my youth performing on the stage in dance recitals and theatrical performances experiencing first hand the whimsical and magical world that is the theatre. There is something about going to European theaters though that makes the whole evening seem other worldly, as if you had stepped back in time to an age where men wore top hats and monocles and women wore petticoats and were refined. The theaters alone hold so much history and to see an opera or ballet performed in the part of the world where the story originally came from is a truly remarkable experience. Giuseppe said I could not leave Sicily without seeing the inside of the Teatro Bellini, and treated Antonella, Ida, and myself to a night at the ballet. And boy was it a treat! We were in a second mezzanine box that sat right next to the stage overlooking the orchestra. I could see how three elements of the theater come together in perfect harmony: the stage, the orchestra, and the audience.

We saw the Ballet of Giselle which tells the story of a simple village girl, Giselle, who falls in love with the Duke Albrecht, disguised as a commoner. When he his true identity is revealed and the truth of his intended betrothal to another royal comes out, Giselle goes mad and dies in her grief. During the second act, Giselle becomes a Wili, a spectral being of a young girl who has died before her wedding day and seek revenge upon their would-be husbands during the nighttime. When the Duke goes to Giselle's grave at night, the head Wili tries to dance him into exhaustion and ultimately to death so that Giselle may have her revenge, but Giselle intercedes and dances passionately with him until dawn, and he survives.

The performance was stunning, the dancers as ethereal as the creatures they were trying to emulate. The theater, which opened in 1890, was breath-taking. The walls and ceilings were so ornately decorated that I shall not even try to describe it for my words would not do justice. Luckily, I was able to sneak a few pictures before someone caught me and made me stop. I don't want to appear as an ignorant American, but this was one instance where I felt completely at ease saying, "I'm sorry, I'm American and I didn't know."  

The painted frescoes depict images of springtime