It was good to return to The Mayflower in Southampton to see a revival of Sir Peter Wright’s Swan Lake with Birmingham Royal Ballet. It’s been absent from the repertoire for five years but was first performed by this company at the Palace Theatre, Manchester in 1981 when the company was still called Sadler’s Wells Royal Ballet. Given its age, it looks remarkably fresh and in spite of much competition in the world of Swan Lake productions, it is one of the most sumptuous, handsome and satisfying in terms of clear narrative. Combine this with some very strong performances from the entire cast, it provoked a loud and enthusiastic response from the opening night (a full house) audience.
My companion is not a regular or particularly keen ballet goer, yet declared at the end that this was the best and most enjoyable that she had ever seen. It opens with the sombre funeral of Siegfried’s father, leaving the path clear for him to be crowned king. Every detail is addressed: his mother’s annoyance at the indulgence and revelry of her son’s behaviour so soon after her husband’s death; the Prince’s unwillingness to wed at the age of 21. Act 1 sets the tone for some fluid and fulfilling dances, especially in the opening waltz as well as an exciting and brilliantly executed pas de trois. Riku Ito, newly arrived from Northern Ballet, was an exuberant and technically polished Benno, as well as portraying a very amicable and supportive rapport with his friend, the prince. Benno’s companions, the delightful Karla Doorbar and Sofia Liñares, delivered first class solos. Both oozed charm and confidence but Liñares proved a revelation. I have not seen her in a major solo role previously as she is only two years into her professional career, but I have rarely seen the first variation danced with such good ballon, crisp batterie and easy port de bras.
Brandon Lawrence, as Prince Siegfried, has become one of the UK’s top dancers for a plethora of reasons. His progress has been steady but he has a unique and memorable stage presence. Of perfect proportions, his tall, lithe physique moves with sleek, elegant finesse. His lines are glorious, his demeanour, majestic and his enormous jump looks effortless. As the performance moved into Act 2, it quickly became apparent that Lawrence and his Odette/Odile, Céline Gittens, were going to be perfectly paired. From her first tentative entrance (an extraordinary arabesque balance did not go unnoticed!), her vulnerability and his obvious wonderment at this early encounter, were captivating. Gittens has exquisite port de bras; her arms at times, seem devoid of bone structure, rippling in rapid sequences. And aside from their obvious physical symmetry, the chemistry between them was palpable. The Act 2 pas de deux was immaculate both technically and emotionally. The two Swan Maidens, Lucy Waine and Yijing Zhang, soared through the air in perfect synchronicity. With a bevy of swans working hard to fly through the act, my only gripe was the chocolate Minstrels crunching and crackling going on behind and on either side of us during the quietist moments. Timing is everything.
Act 3 is all opulence, Philip Prowse's designs dominating the proceedings. The character dances were competent if not quite exhilarating with the exception of the Neapolitan. The three princesses all gave smooth and eloquent accounts of their solos but more use of épaulement and a bit of teasing and punctuation within the phrasing would have taken the temperature up a few notches. Gittens and Lawrence were dazzling in this act. I mention the famous fouettés with reluctance, only because they are such a tiny part of the whole, but Gittens’ were spectacularly musical and thrilling. Lawrence was like a concord-shaped drone, hovering inexplicably in the air whenever he left the floor.
The Minstrels cruncher to the right of me enquired after Act 3 if it was the same ballerina in the white and black acts because she looked markedly different: dix points to Gittens for fooling at least one newbie among us!
Act 4 has become a favourite of mine. Wright’s version is packed with intensity and melancholy. The music always sends me into raptures and the purity of this particular version is a poignant and tear-jerking conclusion. Lawrence and Gittens deserve their thunderous reception at the end and the company appear to be thriving under Carlos Acosta’s directorship. A word for the Royal Ballet Sinfonia under the baton of Paul Murphy. Apart from an almost imperceptible wobble during the Mazurka, the orchestra was a major contributor to the success of the performance. I felt for them all, as the audience chatted loudly, without abeyance, during the overtures to each act.
