I did not reread Jane Eyre in preparation for seeing Cathy Marston’s production at American Ballet Theatre this past weekend. The novel was assigned twice in school:  in eighth grade, I hated it; by junior year, I enjoyed it.  For a period of time, I even cited it as my favorite book (I do not, in fact, have a favorite book, just as I don’t have a favorite movie or ice cream flavor).

The ABT program included a very thorough synopsis, to which the ballet was faithful.  I had no trouble following along, but I did wish I could see it for the first time twice:  once having read the book and the synopsis and once going in completely cold.  Does the ballet work for those who aren’t familiar with the story?

“Gripping” is the word I’ve used the most to describe the ballet to friends.  I did not expect to find myself so completely engaged watching the story unfold.  Jane’s childhood is utterly miserable, but while it shapes her, it doesn’t destroy her intellect or passion.  One person told me she felt too much time was spent on Jane’s early life. Her formative years set the stage for everything that follows, though, and those scenes in the ballet establish her resilience as well as her acceptance of life as it happens.

Marston actually begins the ballet about two thirds of the way through the story.  St. John Rivers discovers her in the moors and brings her home, where his sisters help nurse her back to health.  During her recovery, the story is told in flashback.  When the flashback reaches the present, the scene is repeated.  The remainder of the story is told from there.

Despite not being especially virtuosic technically, I didn’t feel dance-deprived.  Some parts of the ballet relied heavily on gesture, while others used the simplest movements to convey vast meaning.  For example, when Rochester meets Jane, he commands her to remain with him by extending his leg, suddenly and sharply, while seated in his imposing chair.  At the end of their first pas de deux, he kisses her hand—then shakes it. To me, it is the shaking of her hand that is significant, expressing what the program says:  “He is surprised to meet his intellectual match in Jane and treats her with a respect she’s never known.”

The role of Jane Eyre is divided between two dancers.  Catherine Hurlin, a new soloist who’s been with ABT since she was a student in the school, did an excellent job with Young Jane, throwing herself into the constantly suppressed character.  In the lead roles, Devon Teuscher and James Whiteside brought passionate portrayals.  Teuscher reveals Jane’s full character gradually.  Early on, teaching at a school, she is clearly loved by the students but has not yet come into her own as a person.  (In fact, it is only in her presence that the students are ever shown dancing.  The rest of the time their movements are limited to pedestrian and gestural phrases.)  When Jane arrives at Thornfield Hall, she does so with one hand at her back and one at her waist, the rigidity of her posture reflecting her life so far.  But, slowly, she lets her walls down.  Teuscher was a thinking Jane who finally allows herself to feel love.  As Rochester, Whiteside was charismatic while still being intimidating.

One of the best things about this ballet was that it was only two acts.  With only a single intermission, the story was told with fewer interruptions and it was a shorter evening overall, both positives in my view.  The theater was not quite as full as I hoped it would be, although nearly everyone I spoke with liked the performance.  I am glad I made the trip.  Having first seen Marston’s work at San Francisco Ballet last year (Snowblind), and then interviewed her, I felt invested in her career and her work and wanted to see another example.

To me, that shows how little it really takes to hook someone—a personal connection, a particularly resonant work, a favorite story—and a ticket can be sold and perhaps a lover of ballet made.

American Ballet Theatre:  Jane Eyre
June 8, 2019, at 8 pm at the Metropolitan Opera House