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IMPRESSIONS: Paris Opera Ballet in "Notre Dame de Paris" at The Opéra Bastille
By Ann Moradian
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Published on January 16, 2026
Photo © Maria-Helena Buckley
Notre Dame de Paris
Paris Opera Ballet (or Ballet de l'Opéra national de Paris)
The Opéra Bastille, 120 rue de Lyon, 75012, Paris
December 23, 2025
Choreography and staging: Roland Petit
Music: Maurice Jarre
Libretto: Roland Petit after Victor Hugo
Set Design: René Allio
Costume Design: Yves Saint Laurent
Lighting Design: Jean-Michel Désiré
Esmerelda: Sae Eun Park
Quasimodo: Francesco Mura
Frollo: Pablo Legaso
Phoebus: Milo Avêque
and the Paris Opera Ballet Company
Created in 1965 for the Paris Opera Ballet, Roland Petit’s Notre Dame de Paris is an odd combination of earthy passions, linear abstractions and grotesque distortions, with an occasional moment of intimacy or tenderness. The ballet is based on Victor Hugo’s story of Quasimodo, a hunchback taken in and protected by Frollo, the Archdeacon of Notre Dame Cathedral. It is also the story of Frollo’s forbidden desire for Esmerelda, a gypsy dancer in love with Phoebus, the callus captain of the King’s Archers. It does not end well.
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The ballet has a two-dimensional, Pop Art-feel to it, with a Minimalist touch. A corps of 27 dancers fills the stage in snug costumes of vibrant orange, red, green, blue and yellow: three perfect rows of bodies bouncing up and down in agitated synchrony. Kicking and skuttling about like two-dimensional bugs, their elbows, knees, feet and wrists fold and flick at odd angles.
Francesco Mura in the role of Quasimodo galumphs, right shoulder and elbow hoisted upward toward an ear. Despite this distortion, each pirouette is perfect. Gentle music warps with underlying violence — like a gruesome parody of a Cakewalk — while the crowd mocks and bullies him, hoisting him high on their shoulders as King of the Feast of Fools.
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Costumes by Yves Saint Laurent are striking in their bold simplicity. The corps starts out in a bright array of colors – like stained glass — that morphs into blood red as lust takes over. By the end, black covers almost everything as the crowd and plot turn murderous. There is no nuance here. These costumes are blatantly symbolic.
Maurice Jarre’s score, played skillfully by the Paris Opera Orchestra and directed by Jean-François Verdier, is outstanding, powered in large part by percussion: drums, tambourine, sticks and bells. It alternates between delicate and dissonant, sweet and ominous. Like the costumes, the music amplifies the inner life of the characters overtly.
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Esmerelda, danced by Sae Eun Park, spins and poses flirtatiously in a tight, white mini skirt. Pablo Legaso’s Frollo, obsessed with passion for her, tries to pray within the confines of a cross projected onto the floor, but his hands vibrate wildly, taking on a life of their own. His body pulses in repressed agitation. Sleek legs and arms are laser sharp as they pierce through space, yet he seems snakelike in his shiny black tights and jacket.
Phoebus’ archers strut and bluster, chests inflated and bodies locked in place as they waddle from one leg to the other, genitals accentuated by extra padding. Their costumes in white, red, blue and black are reminiscent of Piet Mondrian’s artwork. Far from noble, these men find the same kind of pleasure the crowd does in tormenting Quasimodo. Only Esmerelda shows him any kindness.
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Milo Avêque as captain Phoebus, performs a flawless triple tour en l’air followed by a continuing series of doubles. Esmerelda, clearly impressed, wraps her arms around his shoulder as they enter a tavern where a group of huge-breasted prostitutes waddle and thwack as they shift side to side. Encircling Phoebus, they remove his clothes, leaving him in a nude unitard with black cross-work on it. He, in turn, removes Esmerelda’s dress, leaving her in a nude unitard and black panties.
Their duet becomes a trio as Frollo, who has been lurking in the shadows, insinuates himself between them. The two lovers hardly notice the Archdeacon when he lifts Esmerelda in the air or supports her pirouettes. A series of sublime spirals expand through space as one of the trio completes the arc of the next. Eventually, Esmerelda is confronted by Frollo face-to-face in a lift. When he tries to embrace her, she is repulsed. Frollo stabs Phoebus in a rage and allows Esmerelda to take the blame for her lover’s death.
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Quasimodo, knowing the truth, rescues her from the gallows. Their duet in the sanctuary of the cathedral is delicate and tender. When she touches his shoulder, he responds with shame but eventually the tension in his shoulder releases, hunched back disappearing for a moment, and we see his beauty, goodness and fragility. Despite Quasimodo’s efforts, Esmerelda is hung, and he kills his protector Frollo. Retreating into the cathedral carrying Esmerelda’s body in his arms, Quasimodo seems like a wounded dragon returning to his lair. I would hate to imagine what happens to Quasimodo next, but the story ends there.
Roland Petit’s choreography for Notre Dame de Paris is indeed from another era, relying on pillar-like verticality and the use of momentum to defy gravity. Dancers today move in vastly complex ways, with torsos torquing and twining in outright defiance of anatomy and momentum. The Paris Opera Ballet dancers perform today’s creations with passion and skill. But they also perform classics, such as this, with clarity and conviction.
