January 11, 2011
Perhaps the quintessential classical ballet, Swan Lake has returned to the New Theatre, brought by The Russian State Ballet of Siberia. Since Ellen Kent ceased to put on tours for the Chisinau chaps there's been a bit of a ballet hiatus, now happily mended.
It's so iconic you probably already know the story, but if not... here goes. Prince Siegfried is about to come of age and must choose a bride. He has an impromptu stag do with some decorative peasants. Afterwards, in the woods, he meets Odette and her companions who are enchanted to be swans by day and maidens by night, guarded by Evil Genius von Rothbart. The Prince falls for Odette and swears to rescue her.
At his coming of age ball many princesses from different countries compete for his attention with their national dances, then sink their differences and dance together. But Prince Siegfried is having none of them. Suddenly in comes someone who reminds him of Odette. She's accompanied by the Evil Genius and wearing black but nevertheless he swears to love her forever.
Odette flaps at the window to warn him, but too late! It's not Odette he's betrothed to, it's vile Odile, the Evil Genius's daughter. The faithless Prince rushes after Odette to explain, a fight ensues at the lake's edge, and the Prince sacrifices himself to kill von Rothbart. Odette mourns as the two men in her life are swallowed up by the water.
I'm still charmed by the way classical ballet insists on intricate plot points ("The Queen gently reproaches her son for trying to hide the revelry") when ballet is so much better suited to broad brushstrokes and sweeping emotion: these two people are in love, she is worried while he is both solicitous and brave, this man is evil and cunning...
But thank goodness Swan Lake doesn't rely on its plot, which is both tosh and largely conveyed by the agitated flapping of Odette. Instead it's a celebration of the brilliant idea that ballerinas would look great conveying enchanted swans, complete with feathery headbands. That and the voyeurism of watching women who wouldn't know a chip if it bit them, men with leg muscles like knotted trees, superhuman dancers who weigh nothing, have rubber bones and can flatpack themselves.
The corps is multitudinous and it seems a luxury to see a stage so bristling with legs and sparkle. The company have really gone to town on the National Dances from the various princesses. In past productions I've found this section a curiously stilted interruption to the real story. Here it's a sumptuous competition. The princesses and their retinues, the number of nationalities, the costumes, all had been made their own.
The principals were fabulous. Odette was dreamy and elegant, totally fluid so that each dramatic attitude became just a momentary pause, like a breath, before the next movement. It was the very antithesis of a series of poses strung clunkily together. Odile was a very different creature, much more fiery, dramatic, showing off and quite wicked. In fact she was so different it was hard to see how the Prince managed to confuse them, especially given the costume change. But there we are - love is blind.
Odile is truly her father's daughter, and Evil Genius himself also danced impeccably. He was glitteringly bad from the tip of his golden crown to the ends of his muscly legs. As he twirled and shadowed the Prince around the stage he was mesmerising. With two such fabulous male leads it was sad the final showdown was so curtailed, a real anticlimax. But that's a problem of the choreography not the dancers.
Undoubtedly there are problems with the production - the corps was quite ramshackle at times where I'd prefer mechanically synchronised swans. The orchestra wasn't immune from the odd blip either. And a great number of dancers seemed to be missing from the curtain call. But hey, it's live ballet, with a live orchestra playing Tschaikovsky, a full house, tear-jerking pas-de-deux, sparkly costumes, palatial sets, inhuman feats of strength, in short complete magic. What more could you ask?
It's so iconic you probably already know the story, but if not... here goes. Prince Siegfried is about to come of age and must choose a bride. He has an impromptu stag do with some decorative peasants. Afterwards, in the woods, he meets Odette and her companions who are enchanted to be swans by day and maidens by night, guarded by Evil Genius von Rothbart. The Prince falls for Odette and swears to rescue her.
At his coming of age ball many princesses from different countries compete for his attention with their national dances, then sink their differences and dance together. But Prince Siegfried is having none of them. Suddenly in comes someone who reminds him of Odette. She's accompanied by the Evil Genius and wearing black but nevertheless he swears to love her forever.
Odette flaps at the window to warn him, but too late! It's not Odette he's betrothed to, it's vile Odile, the Evil Genius's daughter. The faithless Prince rushes after Odette to explain, a fight ensues at the lake's edge, and the Prince sacrifices himself to kill von Rothbart. Odette mourns as the two men in her life are swallowed up by the water.
I'm still charmed by the way classical ballet insists on intricate plot points ("The Queen gently reproaches her son for trying to hide the revelry") when ballet is so much better suited to broad brushstrokes and sweeping emotion: these two people are in love, she is worried while he is both solicitous and brave, this man is evil and cunning...
But thank goodness Swan Lake doesn't rely on its plot, which is both tosh and largely conveyed by the agitated flapping of Odette. Instead it's a celebration of the brilliant idea that ballerinas would look great conveying enchanted swans, complete with feathery headbands. That and the voyeurism of watching women who wouldn't know a chip if it bit them, men with leg muscles like knotted trees, superhuman dancers who weigh nothing, have rubber bones and can flatpack themselves.
The corps is multitudinous and it seems a luxury to see a stage so bristling with legs and sparkle. The company have really gone to town on the National Dances from the various princesses. In past productions I've found this section a curiously stilted interruption to the real story. Here it's a sumptuous competition. The princesses and their retinues, the number of nationalities, the costumes, all had been made their own.
The principals were fabulous. Odette was dreamy and elegant, totally fluid so that each dramatic attitude became just a momentary pause, like a breath, before the next movement. It was the very antithesis of a series of poses strung clunkily together. Odile was a very different creature, much more fiery, dramatic, showing off and quite wicked. In fact she was so different it was hard to see how the Prince managed to confuse them, especially given the costume change. But there we are - love is blind.
Odile is truly her father's daughter, and Evil Genius himself also danced impeccably. He was glitteringly bad from the tip of his golden crown to the ends of his muscly legs. As he twirled and shadowed the Prince around the stage he was mesmerising. With two such fabulous male leads it was sad the final showdown was so curtailed, a real anticlimax. But that's a problem of the choreography not the dancers.
Undoubtedly there are problems with the production - the corps was quite ramshackle at times where I'd prefer mechanically synchronised swans. The orchestra wasn't immune from the odd blip either. And a great number of dancers seemed to be missing from the curtain call. But hey, it's live ballet, with a live orchestra playing Tschaikovsky, a full house, tear-jerking pas-de-deux, sparkly costumes, palatial sets, inhuman feats of strength, in short complete magic. What more could you ask?