Jump to content

Royal Swedish Ballet's Juliet and Romeo, London, September 2014


Recommended Posts

Much to my surprise, I loved it. Once I got used to Mats Ek's movement vocabulary I found the production very compelling. Jan-Erik Wikstrom and Ana Laguna as the Prince and Nurse respectively got the most applause but, for me, the standout performer was Jerome Marchand as an ambiguous and rather sinister Mercutio.

  • Like 2
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I seem to have growled at Mats Ek for running up and down my aisle like a jojo in the first half. Though obviously it's his own fault for making his Juliet and Romeo so good that I resented interruptions during the gorgeous ball scene (apparently there was an issue with the sound and he was communicating back and forth with the sound engineer). For once I loved the costumes in a modern production, not a beige vest in sight.

 

I might not have gotten quite the emotional involvement I can get in a classic R&J, but I doubt that any production will be able to top skinhead Mercutio for me.

 

With a few tiny exceptions (why does Juliet's father roll onto stage when his legs are clearly working, random geometric hand movement that seem to be a staple of most modern production) I really loved the choreography. It seemed to be both showy fun at times yet very understated with remarkably beautiful small moments - a fast jump finishing with a slow, elegant move, Paris 'hovering' above Juliet, the lovers twining around each other.

 

Wish I had time to see it again.

Edited by Coated
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I think that it's the first time that I've seen a ballet dancer wear a puffa jacket on stage (Benvolio). The only costume that I wasn't keen on was Mercutio's black tutu over trousers and bare, heavily tattooed torso. I don't know why he didn't stick to the hoodie for that scene.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I was in attendance at the dress rehearsal, so here are a few photos.
 
Juliet and Romeo is part of Sadler's Wells Northern Light Season for the autumn, running from September until mid-November. The season celebrates Nordic dance (from Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Iceland). Juliet and Romeo is a Mats Ek commission for the Royal Swedish Ballet to celebrate their 240th anniversary.
 
15160255828_902b0e6dab_z.jpg
Jerome Marchand, Hokuto Kodama (Mercutio, Benvolio)
© Dave Morgan. Courtesy of DanceTabs / Flickr
 
15346513632_0f02e39bfc_z.jpg
Juliet & Romeo: company dancers
© Dave Morgan. Courtesy of DanceTabs / Flickr

15346498512_f55c9faaab_z.jpg
Mariko Kida, Anthony Lomuljo (Juliet, Romeo)
© Dave Morgan. Courtesy of DanceTabs / Flickr
 
See more...
Set from DanceTabs - Royal Swedish Ballet - Juliet and Romeo (Mats Ek)
Courtesy of DanceTabs / Flickr

  • Like 3
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Juliet & Romeo, Mats Ek, Royal Swedish Ballet, Friday 26th September 2014

 

‘A romantic story in a brutal environment’

 

The star of the Royal Swedish Ballet’s JULIET & ROMEO (part of Sadler’s Wells’ varied Northern Light Season through 14th November) is indisputably Maks Ek.   (That said his wife, the incandescent Ana Laguna, gives him a literal run for his proverbial money as the most enthralling of all soulful nurses.  Hers is the mirror to nature we all cherish; the most independent voice in a celebratory evening to hold aloft.)  Still, - even here - it remains Ek’s choreographic voice that reigns supreme albeit intermittently mixed with that occasional glimpse of the germ of his own root, Birgit Culberg, his dance-maker mother.  Ek’s sun (and the delight of his own humane humour throughout) does her and all proud.  This particular tale created for the Royal Swedish Ballet in 2013 is dramatically balanced with an eye towards the habiliments of our own time.  That said it succeeds in telling a story much as any Victorian lantern show did:  It evolves within its own communal slide.  ‘What goes round,’ it seems to be saying, ‘comes round’.  Certainly it did for me.  The walls of Magdalena Aberg’s scintillating scenic and costume design shits in tandem with the turn of Linus Fellbom’s invigorating lighting.  Via Ek we breathe together. 

 

The bellows that have long fed Ek’s dance (as they do here for these fine dancers from the Royal Swedish Ballet) blow indisputably distinct.  Having spent much of his youth as part of that stunning facility where I, myself, have twice been privileged to give master classes, the Royal Dramatic Theatre in Stockholm, this choreographer is well aware – as Peter Brook proclaims e’en now – ‘that the stillness in silence is the loudest noise we ever hear’.  When encased in those glorious walls you quickly realise that the art of listening takes on a profundity (certainly intensity) of focus not so easily addressed in other seemingly equivalent realms.  Ek employs such with deafening effect on more than one occasion.  He does not fear – indeed insists at certain moments – that our eyes should linger.  He eschews fussy mime.  ‘Don’t muddy it,’ he seems to be suggesting as the full spirit of his detailed strength welcomes us in.

 

Ek borrows – indeed cadges -  images from Shakespeare’s tragic treatise on the dangers of communal insularity.  He is, however, not bothered with leaving well enough linearly alone.  He effectively pieces these bits together much as he does the various shards of Tchaikovsky he employs to create his theatrical score.   In each instance the images are vividly rendered.

 

The curtain rises as Romeo (an innocent Anthony Lomuljo) scurries up from a Bardish trap and over the communal wall.  Even then we sense he is not at home.  As the sole unit set of mobile black barricades seems to find an initial (albeit temporary) hold the conjointedly communistic throng continues to roll apace (i) against the tide of time and (ii) in and amongst our unwitting hero betrothed unto the same.  (In the end all will be similarly destined to churn about the glowing calves of both our heroes (the better half being Mariko Kida's inquisitive quest of a Juliet).  A valley of legs will remain – not unlike a bleached poppy field - as the final diminishing reminder of the talk that has been walked, run and danced in ever-so-engagingly-glorious Ek-speak.)  From without the initial roll of our inter-mutual whole one figure rises.  He is clearly marked as our ‘prince’ because he – alone outside of the nurse – is privileged to exercise a conscious.   (Shakespeare dined out on his 'outsiders'.)  Jan-Erik Wikstom (that fine artist who previously graced the ENB roster in the earliest part of this century) is, like the aforementioned Laguna, left to physically confront his own knowing indecision.  Physically both gape and grasp with a Martha Graham Fervour.  Their chimera haunts.

 

In between there are more than a few passing feasts laced amongst just so many inspirational dishes.  I was particularly taken by:

 

(i) the introduction of Paris (an movingly iconoclastic Oscar Salomonsson) the wealth of whose Nordic blonde mane is physically haloed by those of a more conventionally practical need above the virgin he prays to but will never find;

(ii) the opening duet between a Teddy-boy innocent of a black sheep Mercutio (here the precise incendiary that frames the looming precision of Jerome Marchand) seeking to instruct (as best he can) an ever so willing Benvolio (the vividly endearing Hokuto Kodama who, himself, ever fights to inflate the juvenile pride of his own puffa jacket).  They – through Ek – make emphatic Shakespeare’s mock:  “If love be rough with you, be rough with love; / Prick love for pricking and you beat love down.”  Beat they oh, so gloriously do. 

(iii) The gathering (and dance) of the army of the breathed as inspired by Lady Capulet who here moves beyond being a simple isolationist in face of her tyrannical son’s death and

(iv) the fact that all the deaths are so seemingly trivial – much as they so often are in our own life’s history.  This only adds in helping Ek draw us into the vital fibre of his whole.  There is no question but that we are the first and last character of Ek’s dance.  As I well remember Brook once musing:  ‘And suddenly there is silence.  KABOOM!’

 

Bless Mats Ek and the Royal Swedish Ballet for bringing this enticing tool of engagement to our shores; ones not always renown for their generosity in terms of welcoming such innovative same - even when hailed elsewhere for the vitality of their artistic vicissitude.  (Reference past UK critical responses to Ratmansky; to Kilyan, to Petit, to Bejart, to Neumeier, etc.)  As far as I’m concerned this is nothing less than a public service. 

Edited by Bruce Wall
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I am in accordance with Clement Crisp on this one ,obviously a minority.

 

Hello, Jack, and welcome.  I can see where he's coming from on this, even though I don't exactly agree with him.  I've just finished reading the reviews for this in the Links thread, and will admit to being a little surprised at quite how positive they were: to my mind, it wasn't on a par with Carmen, or Giselle.  And I too certainly got irritated by the patchwork of bleeding chunks of Tchaikovsky.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I always remember the hatchet job Crisp made of Angelin Prelocaj's R&J, one of the most moving versions of the lot.   I really think the FT should send out someone more in tune with modern dance than Crisp, better still put him out to grass.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I would just loved to have seen the Royal Swedish Ballet's Romeo and Juliet but there was so much going on in the last week of September - Phoenix Dance's Tenacity in Leeds, Chantry Dance's Chasing the Eclipse in Grantham, Birmingham Royal Ballet's Beauty and the Beast at The Lowry and Scottish Ballet's Ten Poems and The Crucible in Glasgow. I saw as many of those as possible and I am traipsing up to Edinburgh on Saturday to see the Scots but is not possible to be everywhere or to see everything on offer.

 

Ballet appreciation is very much a matter of taste and what appeals to one person will not necessarily work for others.   Having read the reviews and followed the comments here the work sounds just my cup of tea and I'll try to get out to see it in in Sweden or somewhere one of these days. Sorry that not everybody who had paid good money to see it liked it but well that's life.  Hope they have better luck next time.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I know that a lot of people have expressed the view that Clement Crisp should be pensioned off. I am not sure that I agree, after all it is quite easy to find adulatory pieces by people who are in tune with modern dance but who clearly know very little about classical dance and don't much like it. As we know not everyone paid as a dance critic actually knows much about dance as an art form either as a practitioner or as a long term observer of it in its varied forms.

 

Just because a particular critic does not feel as enthusiastic about a particular dancer or choreographer as I do does not mean that their opinion is not worth reading. A foreign critic seeing a company intermittently may be more aware of changes and of decline than someone who sees the same company regularly. What Arlene Croce had to say about the Royal Ballet in the 1980's was spot on. A critic who has seen a wide range of dance works over the years is likely to be able to identify the sources of what appear to be an innovative approach to choreography and to evaluate them against what he or she remembers of the source material.

 

Again a critic who has seen a ballet danced by generations of dancers is inevitably going to compare the current crop of performers against the great exponents of the past. Just because I like a particular dancer it does not make them a great exponent of a particular role.The performances of Manon that we have seen over the last five years have clearly moved a lot of people, but it is interesting to read the views of someone who has seen every cast since Sibley and Dowell. If your favourite dancers do not get a five star write up that does not mean that either you or the critic are wrong in your respective evaluations of the performance.

 

I  much prefer to read a critic who makes me think than one who spends two or three paragraphs telling me the story  or the background  of the ballet's creation and then uses a couple of lines to say what they thought of the performance. It is relatively easy to find a critic who writes what you want to read, very few have enough guts to say what they really think of a particular work or performance.  I find it refreshing and I can agree or disagree as I wish. Now I am going to read what CC wrote about Mr Ek's retelling of the story of the star crossed lovers.

  • Like 3
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I know that a lot of people have expressed the view that Clement Crisp should be pensioned off. I am not sure that I agree, after all it is quite easy to find adulatory pieces by people who are in tune with modern dance but who clearly know very little about classical dance and don't much like it. As we know not everyone paid as a dance critic actually knows much about dance as an art form either as a practitioner or as a long term observer of it in its varied forms.

 

Yes, you've put you finger on the problem FLOSS, finding a critic that has an enthusiasm for both classical and modern  has always been a tough call, but I find that reflects audience attitudes too as there is little cross over between the two genres.  Ek's Juliet & Romeo was, as I've noted above,  packed with ideas and originality and for a professional critic to fail to acknowledge that fills me with despair.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

What was Scottish Ballet's new double bill like, Terpsichore?

 

I haven't seen it yet. I am going to Edinburgh on Saturday to see it at the Festival.   I will blog about it when I get back to Yorkshire and if I have time I will either cut and paste my review or post a summary here.

 

From the info Scottish Ballet have sent to their Friends and posted to their website it looks very promising.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I know that a lot of people have expressed the view that Clement Crisp should be pensioned off. I am not sure that I agree, after all it is quite easy to find adulatory pieces by people who are in tune with modern dance but who clearly know very little about classical dance and don't much like it. As we know not everyone paid as a dance critic actually knows much about dance as an art form either as a practitioner or as a long term observer of it in its varied forms.

 

Just because a particular critic does not feel as enthusiastic about a particular dancer or choreographer as I do does not mean that their opinion is not worth reading. ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

 

 

Crisp has been around for as long as I can remember and I think he is still worth reading. I saw him interview Dame Antoinette Sibley in February and Lady Macmillan at events organized by the London Jewish Cultural Centre a few weeks later and was impressed with his mastery of detail. 

 

I don't always agree with him and I don't share his taste but I will be very sorry when he stops writing.  

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Juliet & Romeo, Mats Ek, Royal Swedish Ballet, Friday 26th September 2014

 

‘A romantic story in a brutal environment’

Bless Mats Ek and the Royal Swedish Ballet for bringing this enticing tool of engagement to our shores; ones not always renown for their generosity in terms of welcoming such innovative same - even when hailed elsewhere for the vitality of their artistic vicissitude.  (Reference past UK critical responses to Ratmansky; to Kilyan, to Petit, to Bejart, to Neumeier, etc.)  As far as I’m concerned this is nothing less than a public service. 

Re past critical comment: was this to Ratmansky, Kilyan et al's versions of Romeo and Juliet?  Personally I have vivid memories of Neumeier's version of this classic even though it was back in 1976 when the Royal Danish Ballet performed it in Copenhagen and have posted very favourably about it on Ballet.co. 

 

And is there any particular reason why the text of your post is all in bold style?  Do you feel extra strongly about this ballet/ballets?

 

Just wondering.

 

Linda

Link to comment
Share on other sites

 

 

And is there any particular reason why the text of your post is all in bold style?  Do you feel extra strongly about this ballet/ballets?

 

 

 

In response, Linda ... I typed this text in Word (not emboldened apart from the title ...promise) and then used the forum 'Paste from Word' element (that second from the right of the top row of BcoF editing assists) to transfer my text.  I am not certain why it ALL came across as bold.  That it did so is best known to the element itself.  Certainly that had not been my intent and no further/deeper meaning was, of consequence, implied.  I hope this answers your question.  

Edited by Bruce Wall
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Just as a matter of interest, I set up the links in a Word document, copy and paste.  The way the post appears after I have done the paste appears nothing like the document and I have to edit the font size and sometimes the "bold" or otherwise!  This has only happened since I had to change my laptop earlier this year ... Windows 8 strikes again!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Mac version of Word that I use has a Web Page Preview function that shows the document in one's current browser. This makes it easy to see if the formatting is ok. I then copy and paste from that preview straight into the forum. Don't know if that's a better way of proceeding but it works for me.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...