Talbot : The Winter's Tale
The Royal Ballet
Orchestra of the Royal Opera House
David Briskin
The Winter's Tale is one of Shakespeare's most problematic plays. For all the quality of its language - and it does rank as one of the best on that basis - the changes of register make it extremely difficult to produce effectively. While Shakespeare certainly understood and appreciated the value and utility of contrast, in order to increase or decrease dramatic tension, The Winter's Tale takes these contrasts to extremes, and one goes from a tragic intensity worthy of Hamlet to scenes of pastoral freshness more akin, perhaps, to one of the comedy of manners.
On the other hand, it's perhaps precisely those extremes of mood that make the piece interesting for a choreographer. In order to entertain a public by dance alone for a whole evening, diversity is the name of the game, whether it's in three contrasting short pieces, or in the extent of a full-length narrative ballet. Christopher Wheeldon has chosen this play as the vehicle for his latest narrative creation for the Royal Ballet with, as his collaborator, composer Joby Talbot, also responsible for the score for Wheeldon's highly successful Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, three years ago.
As Wheeldon commented during the second interval, Alice, by its very nature, was more episodic, and more overtly comic; The Winter's Tale required a greater cohesion, musically and choreographically, and while, on the whole, I found the piece worth seeing, it's still a little patchy. The last act, that of reconciliation and rebirth, is surprisingly, unsatisfyingly short and somewhat uneven, with some of the best music not entirely matched by a similar quality of steps. In particular, the instant of recognition, when Perdita's identity is revealed, had the music peaking after the moment, to a blacked-out stage while the corps changed costumes. At other times, much of the score sounds like film music. This is not necessarily a bad thing, it's certainly not a chore to listen to, but it does tend to be a little repetitive.
The first act is dramatically charged and fairly intense, but it is made so almost exclusively through the character of Leontes, and his descent into insanity. There's no real sense of a court, the corps is just so much window-dressing, Polixenes and Hermione are single-note characters - though Lauren Cuthbertson's dignified grace as the latter was a delight to watch - and Paulina (a hieratic and stately Zenaida Yanowsky) only starts to come into her own at the end of the act. Leontes, however (tonight in a supercharged performance by Edward Watson), presents a worthy challenge to a top-flight dancer-actor. As suspicion takes root, his body language changes radically, distorting into sharp angles and unnatural movements. Watson's long limbs took on an insectile quality, his fingers twitching in an irrepressible nervous tic, his bony, expressive face pinching into a mask of paranoia, everything about his Leontes seeming almost to contaminate the very air around him with his irrational jealousy.
The best of the ballet is the second act, in the Arcadian setting of Bohemia, for the sheep-shearing festival in which Perdita and her princely suitor-in-disguise celebrate their betrothal. Here, Wheeldon produces ensemble numbers with character, and with the right sort of character for the occasion. Talbot, too, successfully creates a sort of folksy sound world, with an on-stage band of slightly exotic instruments such as the dulcimer, or a type of low flute called a "bansuri". Although costume design needs to change either the fabric or the colour of Perdita's dress, because every damp mark from contact with her partner was showing up on the cloth, Sarah Lamb was still a fresh, fluid and lovely shepherdess-princess, while Steven McRae's Florizel abounded with energy and exuberance, clearly relishing the opportunity to throw off the shackles of court protocol, as well as the company of his sweetheart. Valentino Zucchetti also made a very favourable impression as Clown, Perdita's adoptive "brother".
As with Ratmansky's Lost Illusions earlier this year, it's good to see that there are still choreographers out there interested in and willing to commit to creating full-scale narrative ballets. It's a demanding, time-consuming process with uncertain results, but it's also true (again, as noted in the interval comments) that the Royal Ballet has a tradition of such ballets. It's therefore also good to see that the company is willing to perpetuate that tradition, and The Winter's Tale is, I think, an honourable addition to the repertory. That said, it would be nice if the Royal Ballet would consider throwing in one of its triple bills into the cinema broadcast output once in a while. I know they're never as popular as the three-act ballets, but it would vary the fare somewhat.
[Next : 1st May]
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