PERFORMING ARTS

Sergio Tiempo

Sergio Tiempo, the immensely talented Venezuelan-born pianist, uses his colossal technique to produce a spectrum of colors and dynamic nuance from the piano. His program at the Kennedy Center Terrace Theater on Saturday afternoon included Haydn's delightful Sonata in D, Hob. XVI: 37; Chopin's Sonata No. 3 in B Minor; Ravel's suite "Gaspard de la Nuit"; and the "Consolation" No. 3 and "Mephisto" Waltz No. 1 of Liszt. Still in his mid-30s, Tiempo is nonetheless a seasoned veteran, having made his debut at the Amsterdam Concertgebouw at 14.

Not surprisingly, he is an authoritative Ravel player. In the "Gaspard" pieces, the glissandi in "Ondine" fairly shimmered, while the famously difficult "Scarbo" was imaginatively realized with crystalline clarity. Tiempo also possesses a golden singing sound, ravishingly displayed in the Chopin and Liszt pieces. The same lyrical impulse pervaded the Haydn sonata, in an interpretation perhaps more operatic than symphonic.

Tiempo's great strength is his white-hot intensity. When combined with his cultivated musical intelligence, it achieves strikingly original results. Yet his passionate exuberance occasionally overflows into impetuousness. Hyperkinetic momentum resulted in memory slips in movements of the Haydn and Chopin sonatas. And structural integrity in the Chopin finale and the "Mephisto" Waltz was undermined by unchecked fortissimo power surges. But these missteps could not diminish the visceral excitement of the program.

-- Patrick Rucker

St. Petersburg Ballet

When it comes to Russian ballet, there is a stalwart tradition of classicism, and then there is Soviet kitsch. The latter is best washed down with vodka, but alas, there was no Stoli to be had at George Mason University on Friday, when St. Petersburg Ballet Theatre presented "Carmen." Instead, sober patrons were left flipping through their not-so-helpful programs, trying to figure out what on Earth was happening onstage.

This "Carmen" bears little resemblance to the version first toured by Les Ballets de Paris in 1949. Instead of paralleling the plot of Bizet's opera, the St. Petersburg production unfolds in a series of character sketches. It's an idea with merit, but whereas that production made the metaphors obvious, this "Carmen" is just a bizarre '80s bad dream.

The production worked best when it stuck to the familiar story. "Carmen" is a classic love triangle, and the dancers portraying the Gypsy, her pious rival, Micaela, and the enigmatic Don José all stayed in character. Artistic director Yuri Petukhov choreographed clever pas de trios for them, as well as a kinky duet for Carmen and the punk toreador Escamillo. The company dancers -- seen here in heels rather than toe shoes -- are skilled, but too often strike stock Russian poses: chests thrust out, arms hyperextended.

Aesthetically speaking, the production is behind the times. An aluminum lunch table on wheels was the only set piece on a stage lit like a roller rink. The recorded score, likely intended as folk-fusion synth pop, sounds more like Gypsy Muzak. The visual imagery ranged from hokey to horrifying. Either no one has told Petukhov what Americans think when someone comes onstage wearing a white-hooded robe or this Don José was in the KKK.

So "Carmen" was incongruous. It was still an entertaining evening, capped off by a hip-hop habanera at the curtain call. No one can accuse St. Petersburg of not pushing the boundaries; it just needs a friendly reminder that the borders have changed.

-- Rebecca J. Ritzel