Review – Romeo and Juliet, Northern Ballet at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 19th September 2024

Ballet at the RSC? Surely not Dame Judi and Sir Ian gracing us with their pas de deux? Although I understand Sir Derek Jacobi’s entrechats are to die for. No! I’m kidding. Northern Ballet’s Romeo and Juliet, a mainstay of their programming over the last thirty years, has been rescued from the disaster that occurred in 2015 when the costumes and sets were ruined by flood damage. Painstaking work by gifted people has restored and renewed them so that once again Massimo Moricone and the late Christopher Gable’s work can be enjoyed by fresh generations.

R&J at the RSCTheir first port of call on their autumn tour is at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre and it’s an inspired choice of venue. Unlike most theatres likely to host ballet companies, the RST has a thrust stage, so it basically has less width but more depth; and for ballet that gives the opportunity for the dancers to perform deeper into the auditorium and share their grace and skill more closely with the audience. The result is that, although the Royal Shakespeare is a large, grand theatre, the performance can take on a surprisingly intimate form; and that’s perfect for a project such as Northern Ballet’s Romeo and Juliet with its stunning choreography and its timeless, tragic love story.

Juliet and ParisLez Brotherston’s sets look good as new, with their suggestion of the Romanesque grandeur of Verona; a central piazza with overlooking balconies and historic ruins yielding a usefully large bare area to fill with dancers. Those restored costumes are literally a sight to behold; the Capulets in black but still brash with colour, the villagers in their drab greys and browns, and the masked partygoers inspired by commedia dell’arte. In contrast, the pale, light simplicity of Romeo and Juliet’s costumes stand out, reflecting their innocence and youth.

TybaltMoricone’s choreography blends perfectly with Prokofiev’s score. It pulls no punches with the brutality of the Capulet regime but also allows the tenderness of the star-cross’d pair, whose love was doomed to fail, to come through; both in their ecstatic love dance that concludes Act I and their morning bedroom scene that opens Act III. It also gives Mercutio many opportunities to show off and play the joker, it has a star comedic moment for Juliet’s nurse in the letter-delivery scene, and a sadly funny portrayal of Juliet rejecting the marriage proposal of Paris. Twice. It also tells the story with absolute clarity, and you can’t always say that about ballet. The simple reconciliation at the end between the Lords Montague and Capulet confirms the pointlessness and devastation caused by their stupid family enmities.

Romeo and JulietThere is an elephant in the room; or rather, it’s not in the room, it’s absent. For the first time Northern Ballet are using recorded music rather than a live orchestra. There’s no doubt it’s an excellent recording; but nothing beats the real thing. A live orchestra has one big practical advantage over a recording – it gives flexibility to the stage performance, allowing the conductor to pause for the audience’s reaction to a scene’s climax before continuing. This is especially important with classical ballet as you never know if a star turn is going to produce an unexpected thunderous round of applause. The last thing you want is for the dancers to be forced to continue before the audience is ready. With Prokofiev’s outstanding, sumptuous themes – not just the famous Montagues and Capulets march but his fragile motifs for Juliet, his Gavotte borrowed from his Classical Symphony, and so much more – a live performance of the music would have been the icing on the cake. However, I don’t need to tell you how underfunded the Arts are. Touring with an orchestra is not an inexpensive option; but music and ballet are inextricably linked. It takes a wiser person than me to balance this financial/artistic dilemma.

JulietThe dancers change roles regularly throughout the run, so you may see a different cast. However, at our performance the main role of Juliet was danced by leading soloist Saeka Shirai and she is exquisite. Her expressions, her enthusiasm, her grace, and her amazing pointe work are all just a joy to watch. She’s one of those performers who, when she’s on stage, in the words of Emily Dickinson, saturates sight; you forget to look at everyone else. Her Romeo was Harris Beattie who performs with effortless physical strength and superb technique.

MercutioJun Ishii was Mercutio and Filippo Di Vilio was Benvolio, and the three of them performed some terrific trios, embodying a surprisingly convincing laddish bromance. Mr Ishii threw himself wholeheartedly into Mercutio’s cheeky insolence with a superbly crowd pleasing performance; surely he’s ready for promotion to junior soloist after this run. George Liang was a marvellously surly and acrobatic Tybalt, and Helen Bogatch stood out as a remarkably dour-faced Lady Capulet; there’s one matriarch you wouldn’t want to cross. And Dominique Larose gave us a wonderfully fussy and bustling Nurse, sweetly waddling around the stage and endearing herself to everyone.

Lady CapuletGreat to see this production again – I last saw it in High Wycombe in 1998! It continues at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre until 28th September, before it travels on to Southampton, Canterbury and Newcastle. Northern Ballet’s other current productions, A Christmas Carol, Jane Eyre and Hansel and Gretel, begin touring in November. Will there be any more collaborations between Northern Ballet and the Royal Shakespeare Theatre? Let’s hope so – it’s the perfect staging for grand, yet intimate dance.

Production photos by Emily Nuttall

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Northern Ballet, The Great Gatsby, Milton Keynes Theatre, 16th April 2013

Scott Fitzgerald’s fantastic book came out in 1925 and rarely goes away. Last year we saw the daylong marathon that was Gatz – the bold experiment of a dramatised reading of the book in one fell swoop; for me not entirely successful, but certainly worth the attempt. And this year we have David Nixon’s dance version for Northern Ballet, set to the music of the late Sir Richard Rodney Bennett. We’ve seen a few of their productions in the past, all of them excellent, especially Romeo and Juliet, which had both of us sobbing into our Sauvignon Blancs. But rather like Gatz, this Gatsby is a jolly good stab at re-interpreting the book in another format, and like Gatz, doesn’t quite work.

Nevertheless there are plenty of aspects of the performance that are a sheer joy and well worth the ticket price. Primarily, you go to a dance to see dancers dance, right? On that level it works like a dream, as the company are in really good form, their technical ability stands out a mile and they must be amazingly fit to sustain those energy levels throughout the show. Other senses are appealed to as well; the costumes are superb, especially the ball gowns of the partying ladies and Myrtle’s stunning first act creation. The orchestra are superb, and recreate Bennett’s jazz, Charleston and other film music with intensity and excitement.

There are some particularly excellent set pieces. All the dance party scenes are lively and engaging, especially when Myrtle loosens up to Irving Berlin’s When The Midnight Choo Choo; Myrtle’s death is a vivid and startling piece of dance drama; and the entrance of guests to the Theme from Murder on the Orient Express is fun and feelgood. I loved the use of the sliding panels at each side of the stage to give extra entrance and exit spaces, and also to suggest a deeper stage than that provided at Milton Keynes; all part of excellent design by Jerome Kaplan.

So what’s the problem? It’s twofold, IMHO. It’s a brilliant book, written with such control and detachment. It’s not really about Gatsby; it’s not really a romantic novel about Gatsby/Daisy/Tom/Myrtle; rather it’s a somewhat cerebral examination of the outsider, Nick Carraway, and how he never quite fits in with society around him, playing at romance with Jordan but shying away when his cold interior is threatened, and observing the savagery of other relationships from a safe clinical distance. Gatsby himself is an enigma, an illusion; and it’s hard to engage emotionally with such characters. For all its beauty and elegance, there’s not a lot here to hang your heart on. At moments of high drama and sadness in the dance, Mrs Chrisparkle likened herself to Diana Morales, who, when faced with the death of Mr Karp, felt Nothing. Because it is a rather unemotional book, the dance lacks a little splash of passion.

Which brings me on to the choreography. For the majority of the characters, it seemed to me, David Nixon has provided some elegant and attractive gliding moves; specifically lots of twirling – not pirouettes on the spot, but the kind of spinning where they move over a large area of stage; lots of open arms at second position; lots of ladies’ legs being gracefully lifted and placed back down on stage at 90 degree angles. These are all beautiful moves, and they were all exquisitely performed. The only problem is that towards the end of the show I began to find the choreography rather samey. I wanted some variation, something quirky to stand out. The only two characters whose choreography had a different vibe were Myrtle and George, and as a result I found them much more interesting to watch; earthy, raw and physical, unembellished, unsophisticated and honest. Victoria Sibson gave a fantastic, expressive performance as Myrtle, shining with exuberance in the first act, desperate and restrained in the second; and she was matched perfectly by Benjamin Mitchell’s George whose Act One routine with the tyre was so confidently executed and whose Act Two grief had boundless athleticism.

Another quibble I had with the choreography was that the show seems to want to follow the original story so faithfully that, from the middle of the second half on, the dance gets bogged down in the minutiae of the story-telling. Individual passages from the book seemed to be expressed in dance form in such a precise way that you felt inadequate if you couldn’t understand every nuance, every dance conversation. I would have preferred a broader brush technique for these scenes – but maybe that’s just me.

There’s no denying the great performances from Martha Leebolt as Daisy, beautiful and flirtatious with Gatsby whilst risking the wrath of the brutish Tom, danced with great charisma by Kenneth Tindall, whose “slapping Myrtle” scene got a round of applause that disconcerted Mrs C. Hannah Bateman invested the character of Jordan Baker with warmth and charm, and she can make a golf swing look sexy. Giuliano Contadini was an immaculate Nick Carraway, who delivered some very deft dance moves in a way that made them look really easy; and Tobias Batley was Gatsby; measured, aloof, and technically fantastic.

David Nixon’s adaptation stops eight ninths of the way through the book – Gatsby’s death makes for a startling final curtain. In one sense it was a shame he couldn’t show the final chapter and reveal what subsequently happens to George, or Tom, or Nick, or Jordan. Considering the rest of the story had been so faithfully represented, I did feel it was a sudden ending that didn’t resolve all the issues. But maybe this just goes to show that The Great Gatsby is not an easy work to adapt. It was a pretty full house and the appreciative applause lasted long and loud. There is a lot to admire in this production and is certainly worth seeing; and even if it doesn’t succeed on all levels it’s still an inventive and enjoyable production and you come away in awe of the skill of the dancers.