Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake

Warning:  There be spoilers ahead.  If you don't know the story, and don't want to know the story, don't read.  Also, much as I would love to claim the credit for the photographs, I can't and where known credit has been given.  I am officially in awe of Helen Maybanks photographic skills.

©Helen Maybanks

I was sat at my desk on fairly non-nondescript day last week at lunchtime when my mobile rang.  It was Ellie, which is odd for the day time as she is a primary school teacher and normally they don't have two seconds to gulp down a cup of tea and 2 biscuits, let alone make a phone call.  Turns out she wasn't on playground duty for a change, and when checking her emails, noticed one from the Marlowe.  She then called me.

"MatthewBourne'sSwanLakeisonthisweekattheMarloweandtherearetwoticketsleftwannago?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake is on this week at the Marlowe and there are two tickets left, do you want to go?"

©Helen Maybanks

Context.  Steve had originally asked me in December if I wanted to go and see Swan Lake.  I did, but at the time we were rather broke due to Christmas so we didn't get tickets.  It then sold out the entire run.  Ellie was now offering me the chance to go and see it.  The catch was that there were only two tickets left due to some people cancelling, so Steve wouldn't be able to come with me, something I felt incredibly guilty about. Especially when I left him sat at home.

©Helen Maybanks

Problem was, I had wanted to see this production for a very, very long time and I just couldn't bring myself to say no. Ellie got the tickets and we were there the next night.  Like most people, I had originally thought it was an all-male cast.  It's not, there are quite a few women in the production who are extremely talented dancers.

©Helen Maybanks

It's the corps de ballet that is all male with the traditional roles of Odette and Odile, the White and Black Swan's being portrayed by a man.

©Helen Maybanks

Bourne has said in the past that "The idea of a male swan makes complete sense to me, the strength, the beauty, the enormous wingspan of these creatures suggests to me the musculature of a male dancer more readily than a ballerina in her white tutu." You have to admit, when the core of dancers come out with their aggressive struts and powerful jumps they are more reminiscent of swans than any gracefully twirling ballerina that I have ever seen.  We used to have swans and geese in the grounds at my school and in the summertime we would eat our packed lunches out on the meadow.  If the birds showed up, you threw your sandwich at them and ran.  You then went hungry for most of the afternoon.  They were strong, threatening and extremely dangerous birds and it is this sense of peril that Bourne manages so eloquently to capture.

Bourne has been criticised in the past for introducing the concept of homosexual love into a very traditional ballet and I can see how the production can be interpreted this way; however to me there is so much more to the story than that. On a purely male objectifying note though the glistening torso's of the flock was very welcome and I'm sure I was not the only audience member who appreciated it!

©Helen Maybanks

To me, Bourne's production is about far more than sexual love.  It is about a young man who is starved for affection, desperate for his mother's approval, trapped in an endless cycle of duty and responsibility, with no escape and no future that appeals.  He tries to break free by dating a woman of whom mother most certainly does not approve and when that fails after a disastrous (for him) trip to the ballet and an altercation in a nightclub he stumbles upon the Lake in despair.

©Helen Maybanks

It is there, close to suicide,  that he is entranced by the freedom and beauty of the swans.  These creatures, to him, represent a life that he has only dreamt of in the past and his dance with them is completely unfettered and unrestricted.

© Bill Cooper

©Helen Maybanks

©Helen Maybanks

All of the dancers in Bourne's production are incredibly talented and utterly mesmerising in their movements, but the dancer who plays both the White and the Black Swan (Jonathan Ollivier) was just stupendous.  His White Swan was graceful and powerful yet still trusting and you could feel the connection and burgeoning friendship between the Swan and the Prince, whilst his Black Swan was full of menace and sexuality, a predator who delighted in tormenting every individual at the Ball.

There were particular stand out performances and dance numbers.  I loved the dances in the proto-facist Ballroom which start off staid and formal but quickly disintegrate into a debauched party orchestrated by the Black Swan.  The pas de deux between the Prince and his mother which demonstrates the start of the Prince's mental unraveling at being rebuffed by his mother is incredibly powerful (Ellie and I both commented in the interval that we wanted to scream at the Queen "just give him a cuddle!").  The Swank Bar with costumes and dance styles from various key chapters in the last 50 years was a departure from the rest of the ballet in terms of style but packed full of colour and light with so much to see that you will inevitably miss something. The Dance of the Cygnets was wonderful and packed full of humour.  In fact, the amount of humour throughout really surprised me about this ballet, with a particularly outstanding comedic performance by The Girlfriend.

The costumes and production values are lavish.  Bourne has modernised Swan Lake and it is partly inspired by our very own Royal family.  As such costumes are modern but also still timeless enough to not date the production, impressive for a ballet that is now nearly 20 years old.  The swan trousers which stream and move with the dancers combined with the black forehead strips are one of the most iconic and identifiable features of Swan Lake; even if you haven't seen a version yet, you probably have seen the final scene in Billy Elliot where he is getting ready to perform as the White Swan.  The masks in the insane asylum where the Prince has been confined for suspected insanity make all the dancers look like the Queen.  These are terrifyingly creepy and eerie and gave me genuine shivers, emphasised by the hulking shadows cast by the dancers that dwarf the Prince.  The homage to the first scene here where the Prince gets ready for the day, making it clear how far he has fallen, is full of pathos.

It is the Prince's descent into madness that for me was another standout performance in the ballet.  Danced beautifully by Simon Williams, you felt the Prince's despair at being unloved, unwanted and unable to break free from the prisons of both his duties and his own mind.  You watch his mind snap at the Ball, unable to cope with the presence of this stranger who looks so much like his own White Swan and yet who also rejects him.

The final scene in the Prince's bedroom is emotionally draining.  He dreams that swans are dancing around him, appearing over and above his bed, climbing into the room in two's and three's as he thrashes in his nightmare.  He wakes only to find the White Swan appearing from inside the bed itself, closely followed by the rest of the flock.  The swans are no longer friendly or inviting.  You can feel the danger and the threat they pose to the Prince and the White Swan after the White Swan makes it clear to them that his relationship with the Prince is more important than his relationship to the rest of the flock.  With sheer force of numbers they swarm and separate the White Swan from the Prince.  Both of them are attacked and fatally injured by the pecking beaks and strong wings of the flock, and as the White Swan dies on the bed with the Prince reaching out in to him I found the tears streaming down my cheeks.  When dawn comes and the Prince's mother finds her son's dead body sprawled on his bed and screams her anguish as she clutches him to her, it is clear that a lot of other audience members are also crying.  

©Helen Maybanks

This was a fabulous production and one I highly recommend you see if you can.  If you don't like ballet, this is like no other ballet out there (apart from possibly other Bourne productions).  If you do like ballet, this is like no other ballet out there.  It is powerful and visually stunning, mesmerising and emotional and it is full of darkness and menace.  I'm taking Steve to see it when I can and I'm fully planning on seeing as many other Bourne productions as possible.  Lord of the Flies is coming this autumn; I'll be booking in advance this time.

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