Johnpw

Nice pictures. It's not always easy to tell, but I had the impression that Soares got louder and warmer appreciation at yesterday's matinee than at his evening performance on 4 May. If so, I'm glad as he certainly deserved it (at both performances, in fact). During the performance everyone around me was remarkably quiet and attentive, which is itself a good audience response.

In the scene in which Mary is first introduced to Rudolf at the wedding, it seems to me that the style and length of her frock and the style of her hair are intended to suggest she's a "child" or "early teen" - or at least not yet an adult. She has a similar "look" to that of the Archduchess Marie Valerie, Rudolf's sister, who runs on in that scene and jumps into his arms - intended, I think, to suggest family closeness and childishness. (In 1881 Marie Valerie was 13). When Rudolf meets Mary again, after the Tavern Scene, her hair and dress suggest greater maturity. In the 1978 programme note (reproduced in 2009) Gillian Freeman says "For some time, [Mary], then only 17, had been importuning [Countess Larisch] to be her emissary...it is widely reported that Mary had earlier sought an introduction to Rudolf at the Prater racecourse..." (This would accord with "history" as many writers agree that they first met in the autumn of 1888, whether at the Prater or not - according to some, a very perfunctory introduction was made there by Edward Prince of Wales -visiting Vienna- who knew Mary's uncles from England). If Freeman's timeline places the hunting incident in January 1889 it seems another bit of "dramatic licence". (In "The Road to Mayerling" Richard Barkeley, who is usually fairly scrupulous about sources, places it in 1886 - he says it was only revealed in the 1928 biography of Rudolf - the biographer having heard about it from a gamekeeper and recorded the evidence of two surviving witnesses). It may be that putting precise dates in the synopsis has been avoided because it would give an impression of greater historical accuracy than is justified. The costumes, hair styles, beard/moustache and the way those dancing Mary display greater "knowingness" in "adult Mary", all make it fairly clear that "time passes"; and perhaps for the "world of McMillan" that's enough.

Just as he supported her (Natalia Osipova & Friends) in New Zealand in March. After he danced Rudolf in two Mayerlings in Munich in April (to public and critical acclaim), I was hopeful he would perform in June. People cancel. We don't yet know the reason. I hope there'll be a worthy replacement.

I've puzzled over this photo as it's not one I recognise of the Empress (who was young in the 1850s) - the hair style and colouring don't seem quite right. Professor Google throws up the same image as Archduchess Elisabeth, daughter of Rudolf and Stephanie (in a postcard version the words "Erzherzogin Elisabeth" appear in the bottom corner). If that is the case, thanks for letting us see a picture of "the poor little one, all that remains of me" as Rudolf calls her in his last letter to his wife. Her upbringing can't have been easy, to say the least.

Yes, worth reading. "A Nervous Splendour" is by Frederic Morton (and casts its net much wider than Mayerling). "The Road to Mayerling" is by Richard Barkeley. I believe Mr Barkeley had an Austrian Jewish background (the birth name was Baumgarten). This is relevant in view of the dedication of his book "To the memory of my father a lifelong Liberal....." I suspect the family background was precisely that Jewish middle-class which had hopes of the Crown Prince, a known opponent of the growing anti-semitism of the German national parties. Mr Barkeley doesn't hide his admiration for Rudolf's politics which may (possibly) lead him to downplay the reports of "depravity". However, his book is a useful counter-weight to all those other sources (McMillans?) in which Rudolf is nothing but a drug-addicted, syphilitic, womaniser. Both books have some information on the Vetsera family. As does "Clash of Generations" by Lavender Cassels which looks at Rudolf in some detail as well as his cousin the Archduke Johann Salvator (who features in some of the more far-fetched conspiracy theories around Mayerling and who eventually resigned his position as an Archduke).

There's a wikipedia entry on Mizzi (or Mitzi) Kaspar which gives brief details including that she died aged 42 in 1907. As BBB has already mentioned, Rudolf didn't leave her everything However, it is true that, at Mayerling, he left a letter for his literary executor, Count Szögyeny, instructing him to go to his desk at the Hofburg where he was to destroy certain letters, deliver others (including those to his wife and Mitzi) and to give Mitzi any money found in the drawer. The contents of the letter to Mitzi aren't known but it's said to have been "overflowing with love" (Count Hoyos, reporting hints from Szögyeny). He had spent his last night in Vienna with Mitzi (according to police reports).

I believe the piece he wrote for an album for the Empress Elisabeth was a "Berceuse" for piano. A quick listen on youtube to the Berceuse S.174 reminds me of the music for the Rudolf/Elisabeth scene, but I'm now so used to an orchestrated version I may be wrong.

By coincidence, Sophie von Chotek's father (Count Bohuslav Chotek) was Austrian Ambassador in Brussels at the time Stephanie was identified as a possible bride for Rudolf and was there throughout the "courtship", such as it was, the "asking for the hand" and the arrangements for the wedding. While based on historical sources and dealing with "real" people, we need to remember that Gillian Freeman, who wrote the scenario, was a novelist and screenwriter, not a historian. Kenneth McMillan was capable, I think, of wanting to make a dark story even darker. There are suspect emphases and improbabilities in what we see on stage even if, as stage drama, it all has a powerful effect. Just a couple of examples..... Archduchess Sophie (mother of Franz Josef and Elisabeth's formidable mother-in-law) died in 1872 and could not have been present at either the wedding or the Emperor's birthday party. Nonetheless Ursula Hageli provides a good characterisation so I suppose her "symbolic presence" as an "influence" might be justified. The literature suggests that Rudolf had a curiosity about death even as a child which became more morbid as he grew older but, generally, the skull on the desk is thought to make an appearance, via a professor of anatomy, in the two years before Mayerling - not at the time of the wedding. In fact I've never read in any reputable source that Rudolf frightened Stephanie with a revolver on their wedding night (I wonder what the source of that is). On the other hand, Mary's reaction to skull and revolver is documented. The Vetseras were members of the so-called "Second Society" (minor nobility and "new money"). Only members of the "First Society" (the higher aristocracy) with the necessary 16 quarterings of nobility had access to the Court. It's so unlikely as to be impossible that Baroness Vetsera and the young Mary should be at something as prestigious as the Crown Prince's wedding ball. Symbolically it might, I suppose, suggest Mary's early obsession with Rudolf - it was that way round, she made the running initially (without knowing what was in store). And so on. In McMillan's portrait of Rudolf we can get no sense of why, for example, he was such a favourite of Queen Victoria. She conferred the Order of the Garter on him - rather unusually as he wasn't a reigning monarch - and he himself reported that she tickled him while doing so. Victoria had one of the best news and "gossip" networks in Europe through her diplomats and large extended family. She'd have known about it if he were merely a "monster of depravity". Instead, even after Mayerling, she was still writing about the "poor dear Crown Prince". In the period covered by the ballet, he was the great hope of the beleaguered Austrian Liberals (in the 19th century, not modern American, sense of the word). He was also close to that serious and high-minded royal couple, the short-reigned Emperor Friedrich of Germany and his wife, Queen Victoria's eldest daughter. We get no sense of any of this, just of a man in a state of breakdown for 8 whole years! It's that which interested McMillan. Because of family background in two of the countries formerly ruled by the Habsburgs, I've long taken an interest in the history of that part of Europe which, inevitably, includes Habsburg family history. This run is the first time I've seen Mayerling and I've now seen it several times. Some background knowledge is indeed useful to know who people are and how they relate, but I find that I also have to put what I know to one side to make sense of what I'm seeing on stage.

This time last week I'd never seen Mayerling: now I've seen all casts and Ed Watson twice! I have enjoyed the different interpretations and each time see (or think I see) something new in the choreography (last night just how so many of the intricate steps in the Rudolf/Elisabeth scene mean they aren't facing each other). I'm glad I swooped on a return for last night. I found Thiago Soares very good indeed - not a one note performance, he gave a sense of brooding unease and then of a gradually fracturing personality and spirit. I also understand better now some of the earlier viewpoints about the Tavern Scene - Soares gave a sense of someone in his element, enjoying it for its relative freedom and, yes, with drink. He showed "drunk" very well at the start of the final scene with Hoyos and Coburg. All the cast were good from Dyer's sympathetic Bratfisch to the very imperial-regal Cristina Arestis. I was sorry to have a sense of more muted cheering for Soares compared with others. Or was that just a wrong impression on account of where I was sitting? Unfortunately I'm not a cheerer but tried my best to applaud more loudly and vigorously. Anyway bravo all round.

Yes, at the performances I've seen, she begins at the third verse ("Ist Alles etc"). I had assumed that Lanchbery deliberately decided on that as it's the last two verses that are "heavy" with words of farewell ("Lebt wohl") and that he could do without the first verses about "herbs in the meadow". Now that I've read about cuts I don't know. But even if truncated by subsequent cuts, the song remains effective for the dramatic purpose, I think.

According to Jann Parry's biography of McMillan most reviewers of the first performances recommended cuts and, along the way, cuts have been made. According to her, one was to omit Katherina Schratt's song "to speed the action and spare the expense of a singer"(!). (Perhaps those with long historical memories of the work remember that). Some cuts were restored and I'm certainly glad that the song was. In choosing it out of all Liszt's song repertoire, I think it shows once again John Lanchbery's unerring taste in selecting music that contributed appropriately to the drama and the mood. It allows Rudolf some rare moments of "expressive stillness". One doesn't need to understand all the words - just the title ("Ich scheide" - "I am leaving") and the harmonic language tell us what we need to know at what may be intended to be a "turning point". I don't know when the "final version" of the ballet was settled but apparently it does include cuts to scenes with the Corps, compared with the 1978 version. (I think someone mentioned the Hunting Scene, as an example)

I liked Lindsay's post expressing reservations about the purely narrative elements as it raised fair points. Personally I like most aspects of the story-telling, some of which may well be included to provide respite from the psychodrama aspects - I imagine dancers need time to "catch their breath" after scenes of intensity, as an audience member I felt that I did. The "whores" strike me as a bit "Cabaret", but the tavern scene does contain some fine opportunities for dance, including a few crowd-pleasing moments like when the whole company whirl and twirl before the police raid. I prefer it when something is happening and music is playing during scene changes. I imagine the emphasis on the Hungarian officers, the "shooting incident" and Franz Josef's solitary troubled walk through the picture gallery of his ancestors reflect the background sources which Freeman/McMillan decided to emphasise in the scenario. A good narrative ballet is rather like a novel, where not every page has to grip to provide a satisfying experience, and Mayerling strikes me as an outstanding example of the genre.

Was lucky enough to get a return for last night and so saw the Watson cast for the second time. Being better prepared, I now see why so many people believe he "owns" the role of Rudolf. And what a superb partnership between him, Osipova and Lamb (perhaps even better as Larisch than Mary). Was very satisfied also with the Bonelli and McCrae casts ("vive la différence!"). Remarkable that RB can currently field three such strong casts (including all the other roles) in such a challenging work - and perhaps four (but haven't seen Soares etc). Love the score, which provides several "ear worms", and must pay tribute to the orchestra and Martin Yates.

My strongest images of Steven McCrae are as the sunny show-off of Rubies and Florizel. I thought I was watching a different dancer this afternoon. Since this was my third time in this run, I had a better idea of what to look out for and used my opera glasses a good deal, even focused on Rudolf when he wasn't centre stage. To my eyes (or glasses), this was more than a one note characterisation and I felt I was seeing some quite subtle character development. In the Wedding Scene, his face and posture often indicated self-possession, a certain haughtiness or aloofness, which in the solo came across as an outsider's loneliness. There was also tension and frustration. Why? In the moments when Rudolf, Stephanie, Franz Josef and Elisabeth come front stage for a spot of formal greetings, McCrae had a marked look of pain at the cool, distant response of Elisabeth (very good Kirsten McNally) to his hand-kiss. That aspect was developed at his entrance for his scene with Elisabeth - while she's pretending to read a magazine, he seemed to me to express "I-know-it'll-do-no good-but-I'll try anyway": since he has his back to the audience, this was expressed through how he stood, his shoulders, his breathing. In the pdd with Elisabeth he went from need, through desperation, to weariness (expressed again in the shoulders). With the Hungarian Officers (again well-danced) he expressed well the fluctuations of Yes-No-Maybe. I thought he was convincing in “dancing” drunk in the Tavern Scene but then I’m not sure when “drunk” is too drunk (at least he didn’t fall over) Sarah Lamb was very good, I thought: girlish when with her mother in the Cards Scene but with Rudolf firmly suggesting "I-know-what-I-want-and-I've got-it”. In fact the Lamb/McCrae scenes worked well as they suggested it wasn't an increasingly mad Rudolf taking "poor Mary" along with him, but a meeting of soul-mates with complementary obsessions of love and death. In the Bedroom Scene of Act 3 (I think?), when both are on the floor, it seemed to me that Mary was in advance in stretching out towards the revolver on the table - I don’t recall if that's always the case. As the ballet isn’t a historical documentary, but a "based on” interpretation, like a Shakespeare History Play or Verdi’s Don Carlo, what seems to me important is the portrayal of the “characters” in the “world” McMillan has created rather than what the historical people were “really” like. But, if the real historical timescale is respected, almost 8 years pass between the wedding and the events leading to the “Mayerling Incident”. I don’t think that, even in McMillan’s world, Rudolf has to be manic and tortured right from the first scene. I did get a sense of Rudolf’s disintegrating personality especially in the last scene of Act 2 (with Larisch and Mary) and Act 3. My very first Mayerling was Friday, so I had to put in a fair bit of time and effort working out who everyone was and why they were doing what they were doing. That, and marvelling at the intricacies of the choreography, probably meant I missed many of the subtleties of Ed Watson’s characterisation. It was certainly powerful. Federico Bonelli’s portrayal moved me because I felt pity. Steven McCrae’s portrayal also moved me because he transmitted to me a sense of life’s pain and weariness. Apologies for the length but, since I seem to be in a minority, I felt I had to explain my reaction (even to myself), concentrating on the characterisation - no-one has faulted his dancing. Wonderful, isn’t it, how we can all see things so differently. Warm audience response, plenty of cheering, only a handful standing (so far as I could see). Sarah Lamb gave Steven McCrae and the conductor a rose each from her bouquet: the only Mary to make this gesture (unless I missed it on the other occasions).

The thread title has a certain ambiguity. Too high? Too high for individuals to pay? To high for what is offered? Clearly individuals will answer the question differently depending on income, essential expenses and priorities for inessential expenses. I'm inclined to doubt it's too high for what's offered, given the cost of hiring the Opera House and transporting and accommodating all those people (dancers and orchestra) for three weeks. And presumably the Mariinsky and the Hochhausers hope to make some money too. They are putting on three full-scale, large cast works. The top price for the recent Sleeping Beauty was £130 and that is a price subsidised by tax money and private sponsorship. I don't know if a Mariinsky tour gets Russian government support or sponsorship by Russian companies or individuals ("Calling Mr Abramovich"?) but, in any event, their top price of £150 isn't outrageously steep compared with RB's. I think similar price differentials operate at every level. There are cheaper seats as with RB productions. I don't know about currency fluctuations. I think top price at the Bolshoi last year was £145 so a £5 increase seems not out of line with ROH/RB seasonal price increases When booking opened, I took a deep breath and bought tickets for all productions. In the end, I don't begrudge it because I want to see them, as I did the Bolshoi last year, and I know it would cost me much more to go to St Petersburg and Moscow. I'm just glad they still come. I find I'm now going less to the opera so there's a certain equilibrium (or that's how I justify it to myself!)

On Friday I was sitting in the amphitheatre. There was no standing ovation around me and I couldn't see if there was one lower down. Plenty of loud cheering though especially for Ed Watson. At the matinee one lady at the back of the stalls stood to applaud when the three principals took their bow at a closed curtain, but that's all I could see. Lots of cheering: my impression (only that) was the cheering was louder on Friday evening. Anyway, however it was manifested, there was lots of well-deserved warm appreciation at both performances.

Friday evening was my first live experience of Mayerling. I was gripped by Watson and Osipova and, in the last Act, fully felt that cathartic excitement which tragedy is supposed to provide. The whole cast seemed to inhabit their roles, no weak links. At today's matinee, Bonelli and Morera moved me more, especially Bonelli, who somehow seemed to evoke a more pitiful quality. As between the two, I don't consider either reaction or performance "better" than the other. Just different. I feel immensely privileged to have seen both. Alexander Campbell was a brilliant Bratfisch but so, in his own way, was James Hay who seemed to be having a whale of a time in the tavern scene. Full of admiration at John Lanchbery's genius in compiling this score which matches so well the action and mood.

I agree and would be happy to pay full price for a dvd just for Act 2. Here everything - staging, lighting, costumes, dancing, characterisation- came together in the most convincing way (more than for Act 1 where, for me, costumes and stage set jarred). The acting of Giselle, Albrecht and Myrtha was just superb. Albrecht's entrechats (is that right?) weren't just "look-at-me" virtuosity but a realistic part of "dancing to death". And I liked little details of the production such as how Myrtha's powerlessness was conveyed without the drooping twig and how, at the end, Giselle gave a single red lily (love?) in exchange for the white lilies of death. Full of admiration for how these two young dancers conveyed such depth of emotion.

I don't know the company well enough to say definitely but, on the cast sheet, all the dancers are listed in alphabetical order except the first who is named as Eireen Evrad (should be Evrard). Could that be a clue? And, from the small face picture in the programme, it could well have been her.

Thanks for such a vivid report. I was at the Coliseum Gala and commented here, and to friends, on just how good the Vaganova contribution was, especially the Pas de 3. I was reminded of the Bolshoi Gala by yesterday's Sunday Times interview with Diana Vishneva who reiterated her view about the differences between the Bolshoi and Mariinsky styles and schools; and the need to maintain them. Glad your son and partners were treated well and had such a great time there. Interesting what you say about the Bolshoi corps. In various recent interviews, Maziev emphasises that he has a kind of "open door" - if any member of the company wants to "show him something", he'll make time to have a look and then consider what it means in terms of roles etc. Seems it's not just "talk".

Just a follow up, if you'd like to tell us. How did the performance of the Pas de Trois at the Bolshoi Gala go?

In Robbins' 'The Cage', transmitted live yesterday from the Bolshoi, there's a fair amount of mistreatment of the two male soloists by the two female soloists and the female Corps. Stylised, of course, but it includes kicks and dragging (on the back). It does, however, fit the "theme" (female insect eats male after love-making). During "Human Seasons" (which I thought went on a bit too long) I remember thinking "Ouch" a couple of times at lifts and dragging, which I rarely do. And having no programme I had no idea of the context. In other words the "why?" of those particular moves. On the other hand, the dancers (specifically the female) are all adult and, from their interviews, seem very articulate. Assuming it's not a case of appearance being worse than the reality, might they have had the chance to object during rehearsals? Or perhaps the "why?" was explained to them.

I agree with the thrust of this. There is a counterbalance but you'd have to have been in Moscow or Novosibirsk to experience it live. After leaving London he seems to have benefitted from a classic Russian coach/mentoring relationship with Igor Zelensky - perhaps that's what he needed all along. Anyway the result was that he danced the lead in many of the 19th century classics, sometimes with Osipova; and also more modern works like Spartacus and Mayerling. People whose primary focus is on the Royal Ballet may not be aware of that but the evidence is all over Youtube and in dance reviews. As recently as last December, Zelensky invited him to dance Crassus (with Osipova as Aegina) in the Munich premiere of Spartacus: an important date for Zelensky as the newly arrived Director. It was very well received. He's still cast to dance Mayerling in Munich in April. It's this Russian evidence that made me want to catch Project Polunin rather than its "celebrity" pre-publicity. I could only get a return in the expensive seats for the Saturday matinee. I, and all those around me, applauded each piece warmly, even if not ecstatically. Why shouldn't we? Although each piece had drawbacks, they were performed with sincerity and commitment. To my eyes, Icarus and Narcissus and Echo were well danced. In Osipova's case, more than well danced. Although, in Polunin's case, I didn't see evidence of a prodigious talent, there was much much more than the tattered remnant of it that some commenters had led me to expect. He had clearly put in the hard work. Yes, he did fall in Icarus, but quickly recovered. I was probably in the right frame of mind for Narcissus and Echo ("Carry on Ovid") and found something to enjoy in its almost neo-baroque excess. The seriousness of the programme note was rather at odds with the 'hokum' of the staging. The choreography reminded me a bit of work at New English Ballet Theatre. An apprentice piece, in other words. Well, every choreographer has to start somewhere. It probably suffered from too many "hands". This piece was supposed to represent the "future" (Icarus, the past). Overlooking its deficiencies, I was pleased that the vocabulary remained largely classical or neo-classical rather than "contemporary" in a cutting-edge sense: others will disagree. I too wondered why Polunin didn't dance more in a Project bearing his name. Then I re-read the programme note. It seems the Project is not intended to be "all about him" (even if the publicity suggests it is) but rather collaborative and to provide a support network for dancers. Presumably this is why people like Osipova, Vasiliev, young ENB dancers and the RB's own amiable and talented Valentino Zucchetti are happy to be on board. Tamara Rojo gets a "Special Thanks" mention in the programme for the new work as well as for an earlier Fundraising Gala. Interestingly Kevin O'Hare and the Royal Ballet also get "Special Thanks" for the Gala so there doesn't seem to be animosity there. If there's a second instalment of Project Polunin, I'd buy a ticket. But I hope he heeds the advice of well-wishing admirers like Clement Crisp, Gerald Dowler and Graham Watts all of whom have higher standards and better taste than I have. He has a talent but needs help from the right people to develop it.

Initially I didn't quite understand how removing these seats, and audience members, would help with the noise problem for orchestral musicians. I have seen harpists in the spaces but my perception is that they are largely left unoccupied. Lindsay's comment about "trapped sound" and her latest comments have helped my understanding: thank you. If I've identified the seats correctly, I've only sat there once. For a performance of The Flames of Paris during last year's Bolshoi tour. Obviously a very restricted view. But what a view! It was almost like being onstage or in the wings as in those "behind the scenes" documentaries. I'm sure management and unions took advice and, as others have said, the health and well-being of the players ought to be the overriding consideration.

The London Metropolitan Orchestra conducted by Andy Brown. They seem to specialise in film and TV recordings. 16 players - basically one player for each of the "usual" orchestral instruments. There was also a "glass harmonica" credited but I didn't hear that. Always glad to have live music at Sadlers Wells. I thought they did a good job of the score of Narcissus and Echo which struck me as "filmic", not unattractive and perfectly serviceable.