In the intimate grandeur of Richmond Theatre, Nerubashenko Ballet brings one of the world’s most beloved ballets to life.
Since its debut in the 19th century, Swan Lake has become one of the world’s most instantly recognisable and dearly beloved ballets. From Tchaikovsky’s haunting, romantic score to the choreography to the costumes, each element of the dance has reached the level of iconography, so much so that deviations from tradition (such as the ‘droopy skirts’ worn by the swan chorus in the Royal Ballet’s rendering of the show) can cause controversy or even outrage.
Nerubashenko Ballet seems to understand this, and the production they deliver is archetypal. The swans look exactly how you want them to look; the mood of the moonlit lake where they dance is captured to perfection. Visually, its everything you want Swan Lake to be.
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the performance's structure. The addition of a second intermission in the latter half of the show (possibly a decision made due to the practical demands of set and costume changes) interrupts the rising tension of the story, making the dramatic ending fall strangely flat.
More pressingly, Swan Lake is a tragedy – traditionally, Odette and Prince Siegfried plunge to their deaths in the lake, Romeo and Juliette style, and this act of pure love breaks the evil wizard’s curse. In Nerubashenko’s version, the couple are given a Disneyfied ending. For me, the alteration totally spoils the heart-wrenching gravity of the story, turning it into a toothless fairy-tale romance.
However, given the production’s overall quality, this personal frustration can be forgiven. The most important feature of a ballet is the dancing, and this was uniformly exquisite.
Swan Lake tells the story of Siegfried, a young prince, and Odette, a beautiful woman beset by a terrible curse. Under the spell of the evil sorcerer Rothbart, Odette and her cohort are forced to live as swans by day, transforming into human form only at night. When Siegfried stumbles upon Odette while hunting one evening, he is instantly enraptured, and pledges his eternal devotion. Odette believes his passion might be enough to undo Rothbart’s spell, which will be broken if a man swears his undying love to her.
However, Rothbart quickly sets out to sabotage their tryst. The next day, at the prince’s coming-of-age ball, Rothbart appears in disguise, accompanied by an evil doppelganger of Odette, Odile. Siegfried fails to recognise the deception, and pledges his love to Odile, breaking Odette’s heart and ruining her chances of salvation. Horrified by his mistake, Siegfried rushes back to the lake to beg for a grieving Odette’s forgiveness. This leads to a climactic battle with Rothbart that will decide her fate.
I was in awe of the way her body stretched, bent, and jack-knifed into seemingly impossible shapes.
The best part of this production of Swan Lake was, naturally, the swans. Odette/Odile is perfectly chosen for her role, mesmerising in both the grace of her movements and the subtle expressiveness of her face. While playing Odette, she embodies the pained melancholy of a woman cursed; as Odile, she is conniving and seductive. I was in awe of the way her body stretched, bent, and jack-knifed into seemingly impossible shapes. The ensemble dances with her swan cohort made me sigh with pleasure; even frozen in place, they were breath-taking.
Another stand-out is the cheeky jester, who is remarkably light on his feet even in a room full of professional dancers. He even manages to get a few laughs with his comical expressions, bringing welcome levity to what is typically thought of as one of the more serious performance artforms. The ensemble dancers are also wonderful, bringing life and character to the courtly scenes.
Prince Siegfried, though a technically brilliant dancer, comes across as somewhat wooden, with little change of expression whether he is rejecting the advances of suitors, falling in love, or defeating an enemy. In scenes involving other dancers, particularly Odette, he fades into the background, becoming more like a prop than a performer. This is regrettable, given his obvious physical talents.
In the cosy confines of Richmond Theatre, the genius of Swan Lake’s choreography is all the more striking – a dancer lifts her arm in a certain way, and suddenly, she really does appear to transform into a swan. Such magical details remind you why this ballet, almost 150 years since it was first performed, continues to be so popular. In the capable hands of Nerubashenko Ballet company, its bewitching powers are once again brought to life.
