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Not all the week's highlights were produced by medalists. France made a particularly strong and colorful showing, giving notice that the country is building a formidable ice machine. In dance, the young Dominique Yvon and Frederic Pallvel skated an expert and provocative free program. In the women's event, Laetitia Hubert's short program showed a jazzy, blatantly dramatic style, although she faltered badly in the long program. But the crowd pleaser was Surya Bonaly, whose style -- or lack of it -- is sure to start arguments. Attired by couturier Christian Lacroix in bullfighting red and black, she tore through a toreador program that was flawed but feisty. Bonaly doesn't so much skate as pump her way around the ice. Her jumps are frequent and fearless; her spins, often with the free leg extended at a rakish angle, are -- well, unorthodox. She makes careful skaters look dull.
To a disappointing degree the women's contest turned on triple jumps, especially the Axel. Ito's losing struggle with this nemesis cost her any chance of a gold medal. The best U.S. jumper, Tonya Harding, may have lost her ability to land one. In pursuing this icy grail, both women gave up a lot of their natural poise and fizz. Are the mighty jumps skewing solo competitions? A few routines, such as Yamaguchi's short program, still explore the possibilities of blades on ice. But too often the spins and footwork look like connections between jumps.
That may explain why the ice-dancing competition was the most exciting and dramatic event. At least the performers are not preoccupied with completing a fiendish maneuver on one foot. No jumps are allowed in dance. No radical lifts or throws either. All three winners performed stunning programs; all reflected imagination, ingenuity and athletic zest. Despite the recondite rules that supposedly govern the field, it seems that much of the creative thinking in figure skating is developing in dance. The entire sport is reaching the stage where choreographers are at least equal in importance to coaches, and dance is leading the way.
Klimova and Ponomarenko so enchanted the judges that all but one forgot that they in fact bent or broke several rules. Their avidly erotic dance, set to a souped-up version of Bach's Air on the G String, highlighted his physical strength and her pre-Raphaelite beauty. Like most Russian competitors, they are masters of skating basics -- firm stroking, deep edges.
Despite Christopher Dean's gutsy choreography for the Duchesnays, it was not their night. Lacking the finesse that the Russians' ballet and mime training provide, they must go on the attack and challenge judges and spectators. But the couple looked listless in their West Side Story routine. Later the usually voluble Isabelle was silent (owing to a sore throat), but Paul chafed against their decision to obey the rules: "France wanted a gold medal, and we wanted to stay innovative. We tried to find the middle ground, and you see the results." But the truth is that Klimova-Ponomarenko's love story was more attractive and ambitious than the Duchesnays' west-side story.