bridiem

I wouldn't say it's 'completely' surrealist, Lindsay - a few stock (maybe even clichéd) surrealist images in the midst of a largely traditional production doesn't a surrealist ballet make. But I didn't know about Man Ray and metronomes as mentioned in one of the newspaper reviews, which does explain them (though it doesn't completely remove my objection to them). But yes, I completely missed the point about the trouser suits (I didn't realise the second lot of women were the same ones as the first lot, so I was clearly confused!). I wouldn't have expected or wanted this to be like the Ashton version (or any other version). What I expected and hoped was that it would be coherent and that the choreography would be more subtle and interesting than it was.

Firstly, I must acknowledge that judging by the audience reaction last night my opinion is in a minority. (I was in the Balcony, of which the central part was quite full but the sides pretty empty.) But I was really disappointed by this Cinderella, which I had been quite excited about seeing. It had so many holes and problems that it was impossible (for me at least) to believe in what was happening. Combine that with choreography that to my great surprise I found often clunky, unimaginative or just plain silly, and a regular failure to use the gorgeous music effectively, and I found the result really disappointing. It's a big, ambitious and well-danced production, with some extremely impressive sets and costumes; but for me it lacked credibility, poetry and mystery. A few of the random questions that arose for me as I watched: why does the stepmother look exactly the same age as her daughters (at least from as far afield as the Balcony)? Why does the fairy godmother wear a bowler hat and a deliberately silly long nose? She plays a serious role in the story, but just looks ridiculous for no apparent reason. Which would be OK if this was a cartoon version of Cinderella, or a surrealist version, but it isn't - it's a largely conventional production. Where is it indicated in the first act that a prince is to hold a ball and that's where Cinderella will be going? (Maybe I just missed that, especially because there was a very tall man sitting in front of me so it was difficult to see the whole stage, but it is quite a crucial element of the story.) Why do the women at the ball (at least at first) wear trouser suits? If that's what women wear at balls in this Cinderella world, which would be fine, why then do the stepmother and stepsisters and of course Cinderella herself aspire to and then wear beautiful ball gowns? Why do lots of metronomes appear at the end of the ball? Spectacular from a design point of view, but metronomes indicate speed, not time, and the whole point is that the crucial TIME of midnight is approaching. Why use, repeatedly, an effect of mottled lighting on the stage which has the effect of making the dancers legs and the shape of the choreography all but invisible? Why does the prince apparently need to travel by ship, train and car (brilliant backcloths here) in search of his love, when Cinderella's family clearly had to make no such journey to go TO the ball? If meant to be symbolic of the 'journey of love', it's a very literal and unpoetic (though visually thrilling) depiction of the idea that doesn't match the music. Who are the women, and then the men, who dance with the prince en route to finding Cinderella? (I didn't buy a programme, which perhaps would have explained this. But it shouldn't need a programme to know at least roughly who the characters are in a work.) Why, if Cinderella is about to marry a prince, does her father shake hands with him rather than bowing? If this intends to portray a more egalitarian social order, which would be fine, why is he treated in a more prince-like fashion elsewhere in the work? And I have to say I found the resemblance of the prince to a 1970s John Travolta rather distracting (but maybe that's just me). Now I know you could say: these questions are too literal, it's a fairy tale, it doesn't have to make sense or be consistent. I would disagree. All fairy tales have to make sense - it's why their outcomes matter to us, and why they have lasted. They're not just airy, puffy stories to be played around with at will. If they're to be adapted, the adaptations must make sense so that the resulting whole still has a dramatic and symbolic coherence, otherwise the tales lose all their power and all their point. But: I thought the dancers were very good, with Leanne Stojmenov a sympathetic Cinderella, Kevin Jackson commanding the stage as the prince, and strong support from the rest of the company.

Yes, that's a bit confusing. And assuming we do our online booking first, it means we won't know at that point whether or not we're going to be able to get a ticket for that performance. And the ROH will be inundated with phone calls!! (Even more than usual.)

Brilliant! Thank you Capybara.

Yes, because apart from a few opening nights it's of very limited use knowing when performances are if you don't know who's dancing and therefore which performances you will be wanting to book/which dates you need to keep free.

Federer is the Anthony Dowell of the tennis court. Sublime. But at least I have no dilemma about who to support on Sunday now.

Interesting post, MaggiM - very good to hear from you. Just to say that I did indeed see hesitations on Wednesday evening, mainly (I'm sorry to say) from Osipova. And I would say that I went to the performance in hope rather than expectation, given previous experiences of great dancers commissioning works for themselves - clearly being a great dancer doesn't necessarily also bestow great skill in other aspects of the art form (choreographing, directing, teaching etc), though sometimes it does. But you're right that we all see performances differently for all sorts of different reasons. And whatever my view of this bill, I still think that Osipova is an amazing dancer!

There were just two other dancers, in the first piece - named at the top of this thread. They were fine, but the spotlight was very much on Osipova and Polunin. I think Osipova is light and slight and gravitates towards the light. For me, contemporary dancers have to have a more earthy, more 'down' quality. They use the floor in a different way and move in a different way. (Which is actually one of the reasons I don't like the Royal dancers doing so much McGregor work. Even when they do it very well, it's not what their bodies are trained for.)

I think we came out at something like 9.50pm, though I'm afraid I slightly lost track of time.

I was at the performance and I'm still in a bit of a state of shock. How is it possible to be given two such tremendous performers to work with, and to produce what I saw last night? The only saving grace was seeing and being reminded of what a sensational dancer Polunin is, which was evident briefly in the second work which did produce a few moments of interest and enjoyment. Osipova, unbelievably, was made to look less than ordinary throughout. She is a magnificent classical ballerina, but she is clearly not a contemporary dancer, and what she was given to do last night simply emphasized that. I found Qutb tedious, repetitive, poorly lit and poorly danced, though I did quite like some of the music (for a while). Silent Echo included a good solo for Polunin, who made absolutely the most of what he was given to do, and some interesting moments between Osipova and Polunin - circling each other but not touching (yet). But much of it was also tedious. As for Run Mary, Run - words (almost) fail me. All I can say is that there was almost no dance content and what there was I found infantile, that the 'storytelling' was crass and the costumes horrible. I had to make a real effort to stop myself from heckling (which I have, I hasten to add, never done at a dance performance in my life). All the works look under-rehearsed, the performance started late and the intervals were long. An absolute crying shame of an evening.

All biographies and autobiographies (as opposed to works of history or textbooks) surely describe and comment on the personality, behaviour and motivations of the subject and the other people in his/her milieu. Whether that constitutes gossip or interesting/illuminating reflection depends on what is said and how it is said. Since I haven't read this yet either, I wouldn't like to pass judgement at this stage. Obviously, I hope it will be the latter.

Interesting post, David. I’d just make a couple of points in reply: Yes, the RB has attracted some of the finest dancers in the world, and I hope will continue to do so. But it has also recruited/employed dancers who though sometimes very good do not necessarily fall into that category. No doubt there have been all sorts of reasons for this, but I have sometimes found it frustrating. And, I think that the growing internationalism of ballet companies has indeed influenced the evolution of the RB’s style, and that of many other companies, so that they're increasingly similar. I think that’s sad. Like eating McDonald’s wherever you go in the world. (NOT that I’m comparing dancers to burgers, of course.)

I loved the Gemma books too, and still do, though when I read them now I realised that Lydie is quite appallingly self-centred and selfish!! At the time I thought she was just determined and talented etc (and so excused her behaviour). (Shades of Nureyev?!). But I still love her, and the others including Philip and Alice who to me were the epitome of good, caring parents trying to deal fairly with growing children including an unexpected newcomer. Although Gemma was obviously the main focus, Lydia's ballet was for me the most thrilling part...

I loved (and love) The Ballet Family and its sequel - the characters, the plots, the settings (and the ballet!) all had a huge effect on me (I suppose c 1970). The depiction of Paris thrilled me as the epitome of excitement and romance, and has coloured my picture of the city ever since. For some reason I only discovered the Drina books when I was quite a bit older, and although I enjoyed them they didn't have the same impact. Perhaps by then I was too old to really identify with Drina, whereas I loved all the members of the Ballet Family in different ways and was fascinated by their interaction and all their activities. I also loved (and love!) Noel Streatfeild: Ballet Shoes, Curtain Up and the Gemma books for the ballet/theatre/family settings (and Curtain Up for its really vivid depiction of wartime London) and others for the way they showed children training for very specialised activities (skating, tennis etc) or just learning and growing up (e.g. The Growing Summer, Caldicott Place, The House in Cornwall). Interesting looking back that I was clearly mysteriously drawn to ballet long before I ever saw one!

I see the RAD played a really big role in the parade which ended with Bussell and dancers in front of the Queen. Jolly good - ballet at the centre of national life!! I work for a charity of which the Queen is patron and two of my colleagues were going to the picnic, so I will look forward to hearing about it all.

Personally I think there's a real chemistry between Hayward and Campbell, and that partnership should be given the chance to blossom.

I'm positively shocked!! In a good way. So many promotions! I haven't seen much of Hirano, so I didn't realise he was quite so well regarded; I must rectify that. I also thought that it was too early for Hayward and Campbell, but I'm delighted that it's not considered to be so. (Though I do hope we continue to see Hayward especially in smaller/soloist roles - she's so young, and we're only just beginning to see her wonderful talents!). Congratulations to all these special dancers.

I'm so sorry too, Harwell. I hope that your mother will get some rest while he is assessed, and that he will get the best possible care now and in the future.

Thanks for posting this, RobR - I walked down Long Acre after work today and was delighted to see the plaque.

Oh goodness that was so moving!! Thank you for posting it capybara.

What a brilliant post, Floss. As ever. Thank you.

I had been hoping/expecting to enjoy Obsidian Tear after the comments and reviews I’d read; to my disappointment, I didn’t. In fact I really, really didn’t like it. The dancers were terrific, needless to say (except that it must be said). But although the choreography was softer than much of McGregor’s past work, in every other respect it seemed to me to be the same (with Woolf Works an honourable exception). Dense, laboured, repetitive, and always straining for some sort of obscure meaningfulness that ends up expressing nothing. Not helped by the costumes; whoever designed Edward Watson’s hideous outfit (i.e. Hood By Air, apparently) should be defrocked. It made him look like an undersized schoolgirl. And how is it possible that a one-act abstract work for 9 dancers mainly wearing quite basic harem-type pants or t-shirts needs 8 fashion designers to clothe it? How can Luca Acri’s simple black body band require a fashion designer’s input all of its own? How much did all that ‘creative’ input cost? It really made me fume at the pretentiousness and waste of it all. The best bit of the piece for me was when the stage was lit in a warm orange light that spread into the front part of the auditorium. Never has the ROH looked more beautiful. I had been afraid that I might find The Invitation old-fashioned, or dated. Here again my expectations were confounded. I had only the vaguest memories of it from a few viewings many years ago. I found it absolutely riveting and as original and interesting as if it had been created yesterday. Searing, heartbreaking performances from Hayward, Avis and Yanowsky, with Muntagirov a very touching foil to them, and wonderful dancing from others in the cast (including Ursula Hageli looking – and at times behaving - disconcertingly like Ninette de Valois!). So much real creativity here, so much to think about, so much to feel. A real sense of both the joy and the danger of sexuality (since time immemorial), of the tragic confusion of innocence and naiveté, of the sudden and irrevocable shattering of a young life, of the pain and cynicism of love lost. A brilliant, strange, disturbing and profoundly moving work. I found that I enjoyed Within the Golden Hour much more on this bill than I did on the all-Wheeldon bill in March. Here (in spite of the men’s shorts which I found very unflattering) it seemed a soothing, lyrical and sometimes beautiful antidote to what had gone before. Cleansing the palate, perhaps, after the unappetising starter and the explosively rich main course. And again wonderfully danced – I especially liked Sarah Lamb’s quiet lyricism but the whole cast was superb.

Yes, it's a term that's been used for a long time. When I started watching ballet, it was often used in relation to Lynn Seymour but it may well have been used before that too. Dance-actor was and is a recognised term too (e.g. David Wall, Stephen Jefferies etc). From what I can gather from what dancers have said over the years, the acting element of dance has sometimes been somewhat neglected in training, though I'm sure that varies according to school. But some dancers have an exceptional ability to express/embody a character through dramatic ability and not just by dancing the choreography very well. I think it's comparatively rare, and incredibly precious. Zenaida Yanowsky is definitely in that category. I don't know to what extent the talent is instinctive or innate in some dancers, but I think it can also develop. e.g. Fiona Chadwick at the beginning of her career was a beautiful but rather reserved and sometimes even inexpressive dancer; by the time of her retirement she had developed into a superb and sophisticated actress.

Yes, that production was beautiful and straightforward and powerful. I came to love the Dowell production after initial dismay, though I never came to terms with the maypole dance which almost made me cry on first viewing and never improved. But I'm hoping that elements of the earlier production will be restored.

But the headline is quite justifiable in the context of the article, which gives every possible piece of information about the work except for the crucial fact that it's danced by the Royal Ballet with Royal Ballet dancers. So the headline writer was (to give them the benefit of the doubt) as misled as the readers.