By PABLO A. TARIMAN
THE recent Manila run of “Full Gallop” featuring Cherie Gil as fashion editor Diana Vreeland has many things going for it
The stunning set of Joey Mendoza, the apt costumes of Rajo Laurel, the complimentary lighting design of John Batalla and the hair and makeup of Ruben Nazareth instantly brought us to Vreeland’s era – clothes, hair, furniture and all.
Written by Mary Louise Wilson and Mark Hampton, the one-woman play throbbed with funny, if, poignant scenes from a fashion designer’s life.
Brilliant doesn’t quite describe Bart Guingona’s razor-sharp direction but it is the word that comes to mind as the play unraveled what could also be a fashion icon’s untold story.
Guingona was fascinated by Vreeland’s life as early as 13 years ago and offered it to Gil. But she was busy with family life at the time and couldn’t do it. When Gil turned 50 last year, Guingona attended her birthday party with a script of “Full Gallop” and finally got the yes he was hoping for.
Guingona shared his impressions of Vreeland: “She was an extraordinary woman whose singular influence on tastes and lifestyles was so deep and strong, it forever shaped the definition of beauty for much of the world. Her perspectives — gained from having lived through some of the most revolutionary periods of the 20th century from the roaring 20s, to the two world wars and the 60s – and deepened by a wanderlust that took her to almost all corners of the world, made her stint in Vogue Magazine one of the most important periods in the history of fashion and style.”
Sunday last week in the last performance of “Full Gallop,” one saw the uncanny length and breadth of the acting prowess of Gil as Diana Vreeland. As the play opens with her monologue always interrupted by phone calls, we get to see slices of her life in the fashion world. She remembers a favorite photographer, her sojourn to Europe and all at once we get an idea of her dwindling income from the way she sets out to prepare an intimate dinner with close friends and contacts. Towards the end, she recalls her last encounters with other fashion icons namely Coco Channel and Helena Rubinstein
Vreeland was in a financial fix and only a possible consultant’s work at the Met Museum of Art could save her. She closes the deal with the crucial reminder on the phone: “I would like to have an advance.”
For close to two hours with occasional dialogue with her assistant superbly played by Giselle Tongi offstage, Gil invests the part with both charm and pathos as she delivers the fashion icon’s famous lines.
On style: “You gotta have style. It helps you get down the stairs. It helps you get up in the morning. It’s a wife of life. Without it, you’re nobody. I am not talking about lots of clothes.”
On fashion icon Coco Chanel: “Where Chanel came from in France is anybody’s guess. She said one thing one day and another thing the next. She was a peasant – and a genius. Peasants and geniuses are the only people who count and she was both.”
And the lines that had the audience roaring on the floor as she demonstrates: “There is no such thing as a slack French face. Haven’t you ever noticed that? I’ve given this a lot of thought and I think it’s because the French have to exercise their jaws and the inside of their mouths so much just to get the words out. The vowels demand so much.”
But the most endearing parts (at least for the culture vulture in the audience) are scenes where Vreeland recounts the concerts she had watched. Among them was a performance of Strauss’ “Salome” with the composer and The Fuhrer in the audience. Among her favorites were seeing God of Dance Vaslav Nijinsky and Saint-Saens’ “Dying Swan” as interpreted by the great legend of that era – Anna Pavlova. Here Gil gently demonstrates the dying motions of the swan and then later recalls her favorite kabuki performances complete with trembling hands turning into human fans.
(The late dance chronicler Reynaldo Alejandro — who used to dance and choreograph — wrote that Anna Pavlova considered one of the greatest ballerinas of all time also danced at the original Manila Grand Opera House in 1922, some two years before she announced her retirement. Alejandro showed a slide of the souvenir program to show he wasn’t bluffing. Dame Margot Fonteyn in her book, “The Magic of Dance, “described Pavlova as a “unique phenomenon, without explanation, like the evening star or the Chinese flower that blooms only once in a hundred years.”)
One the whole, Gil portrayed the life of Vreeland unequivocally touching on her human side with just the right amount of irony dwelling on her life as a fashion editor.
Delivering the line – “Fashion must be the most intoxicating release from the banality of the world”– Gil recreated the life and times of Vreeland with ease, with humor, with inner pain without forgetting a dose of sarcasm for those in the dark about her tastes and convictions.
After portraying Maria Calls in “Master Class,” her portrayal of Diana Vreeland is Cherie Gil at her best. She deserved that spontaneous standing ovation.