Men in Swan Lake? Is that like those men in skirts? Well frankly no, that would be the Trocks, whose farcical tutu antics seem to somehow have captured public memory of men in the ballet. Whilst men may have taken on the traditionally female roles of the swans in choreographer and director Matthew Bourne’s production of Swan Lake, this radical reinterpretation of the classic ballet, has its feet, so to speak, firmly planted in a very modern masculine paradigm.
In this modern version of the classic tale, it is the swans who steal the show. With the replacement of the traditional delicate, feminine swans by male dancers, Matthew Bourne embraces the other side of a swan’s nature – rather than the graceful swan, it is the wild, feral strength of the birds that is captured. The corps de ballet fully exploit this role, and are a powerhouse of energy, exuberantly radiating strength and masculinity. Even the dance of the cygnets is transformed to capture the cocky, silly tumbling-over-themselves antics of baby birds.
At the centre of Matthew Bourne’s ballet is the relationship between the Prince and his mother, the Queen. The Prince is entirely overshadowed by the mother who is glamourous, competent, ineffably royal, and in every way his antithesis. In a thoroughly Freudian predicament the Prince, caught between desiring the Queen and being overwhelmed by her, finds refuge in the apparent freedom of a wild, white Swan.
The ballet is not a production of traditional dance – it focuses on telling the story of the unhappy Prince and his yearning for the freedom and the power symbolised by the White Swan. Whilst the complex, codified language of classical dance is absent, the reworked narrative itself is a strong feature of this production. Interestingly, the expression of emotion through physical and expressive techniques more familiar to theatre leaves an impression of a musical rather than a ballet. Much of Bourne’s adaptation challenges traditional interpretations, but the timeless power of Tchaikovsky’s score still reigns. One forgets how truly exhilarating Tchaikovsky’s score for this piece is, and re-accquainting myself with the sheer gorgeousness of it was a true delight.
My primary criticism of the production was that some of the sets and their changes were clunky and disruptive. These minor annoyances, however, were more than made up for by the costumes. Designed by Lez Brotherston, the New Look-esque costumes for the Queen in particular exude the kind of slick stylishness that just screams ‘this is a dress a son’s love could bounce off…’ The delightful costumes for the Troll and ‘Trollettes’ of the ballet within the ballet poke fun at the traditional costuming of classical dance.
The contrast between the comedic moments in the ballet with the loneliness of a Prince isolated, a spectator in his own life are reminiscent of Oscar Wilde’s ability to embed gut wrenching tragedy with sly humour. Beautiful, sexy, wild and free, Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake has got humour, passion, romance, death, trolls feathers and is worth every bit of your hard-earned. However, a word to the wise – unless you have aspirations to raccoon-dom, my recommendation is to leave the mascara at home.
Zoe Carter caught Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake in Sydney. Swan Lake is coming to the Burswood Theatre in Perth on May 4th.
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