On the Beat

I went to see Scottish Ballet’s production of Sleeping Beauty.

Much as I love modern dance, I wouldn’t say I am a fan of classical ballet, often finding it pretty but not engaging. But I loved Sleeping Beauty, perhaps because Ashley Page, the choreographer (and artistic director of the company), has a background in modern dance.

The whole experience was enjoyable. The music (Tchaikovsky) was excellent, the set was brilliant and the dancing was captivating.

I have no idea if they stuck to the classical story, but the story was easy to follow from the dance. I was a little surprised by the arrival of Little Red Riding Hood and other fairy tale characters (the friend I was with said that other dancers were Goldilocks, Belle [as in Beauty and the Beast], and Snow White – although one of them was Cinderella according to the photos on the Scottish Ballet website…), but they danced well anyway (and Miss Riding Hood had amazing legs!).

The dancers acted – their performances when not dancing were full of telling details (a courtier reading a newspaper; guests gossiping together), and the set was lovely – it worked really well.

I thought it was all excellent. It flagged just a little in the last act, with a string of solos and duets by the company at a celebratory ball, and I was also surprised that the wonderfully gothic wicked witch (actually, the evil fairy) Carabosse was so graciously forgiven by the Queen (but how else could she have danced at the ball with the Lilac Fairy?). And the dancing was all lovely.

Rambert Dance Theatre were in Edinburgh this week, and since I try to see them whenever I can, I went along.

They performed three pieces, and I liked the first, disliked the second, and raved about the third.

The first was Eternal Light. Danced to a series poems of remembrance set to music by Howard Goodall, this was quite beautiful but studied. There were several different pieces; one – the Margaret Fry words I tried to speak at my mother’s funeral – brought tears to my eyes; others were thoughtful; another – “Belief” – I thought was beautiful. The voices were excellent – a choir with soloists.

The dancing was very good, and I loved bits of the set. The duet in Lachrmosa dies illa (the Margaret Fry setting) was beautiful; using a large mirror in several pieces worked very well, particularly when the effect of the mirror was tempered by the lighting; and the finale – an allegory of the eternal light itself – was quite stunning.

Still, kitsch diamante crosses flying in whilst the dancers interpreted In Flanders’ Fields seemed so camp during what should have been a very emotional moment, and added nothing.

Then came Carnival of the Animals, set to Saint-Saen’s overused music. This was lightweight, gimmicky whimsy; the music sounded clichéd, the dance irritated and lacked energy: at times t tried to literally interpret the music, and it didn’t add much. No, I didn’t like this!

But I loved the third piece, Anatomica 3: this had everything that Carnival lacked: it was fast, energetic and athletic – and the dancers looked like they believed in what they were doing: they quite literally threw themselves into it. It too started with a piece of whimsy – a Mrs Merton lookalike dressed as a pink air-stewardess, moving slowly and precisely, then joined by the whole company dressed in the same way – but this gave way to the company going through a whole set of complex, athletic routines. They filled the stage with movement, throwing each other around with perfect timing and precision, and jumping and falling of a tall skijump-like structure – stunning.

The music was a series of percussion pieces, which worked very well in the setting. Yes, I just loved all of this last performance: it was entertaining and exciting, making up for what Carnival lacked.

* * *

The whole performance was accompanied by a signer for deaf dance fans. This I found quite odd: as well as signing the poems in Eternal Light, he also signed the music in between and in the other dances, and the silences. I didn’t know music could be signed: he beat out the time using different gestures for loud or soft beats, he gestured the increasing and decreasing volume, and he indicated the instruments being played by the movements of his hands – piano-playing, violin-bowing and so on. In Anatomica 3, his intense movement meant at times he was almost playing air-drums.

I’ll admit I found it a distraction – especially in Eternal Light, which had several quite darkly lit pieces (the signer was spotlit, and hence stood out). But he also kept my interest during Carnival, which the music and dance didn’t!

Sitting in the auditorium waiting for the show to start, the ushers suddenly move through the aisles asking everyone to leave quickly. There is a lot of confusion - not least from the number of non-English speakers. Thoughts quickly turn to fire or terrorist bomb – although being asked to wait in the foyer imples something less radical. Either way, everyone leaves as quickly as requested; the foyer gets crowded as those streaming out of the auditorium meet those rushing to get in.
( Not a good start to the evening. )

I went to see Nederlands Dans Theater 2 last week. This is the feeder group for Nederlands Dans Theater; NDT frequently visit Edinburgh, and I see them whenever I can – they played here in April: but I was very disappointed – it was all of a muchness, and none of the pieces grabbed me. I was underwhelmed. (I thought it was me, but I spoke to two different friends who also went along, on different nights, and they felt the same.)
( So I was slightly trepidatious about going to NDT2 )