Everyone knows the story of ‘Swan Lake’. A princess turned into a swan, a wicked sorcerer, a chiselled prince coming to save her. It’s a wonder that the ancient story, and ancient 1877 choreography by Marius Petipa, is still beguiling audiences. But just like the most classic of fairy tales, the tale of the cursed princess remains a gesamtkunstwerk that will definitely pull on your heartstrings.
In a production first staged in 2018, ‘Swan Lake’ at the Royal Opera House is very much a trad ballet. It’s got all the things you’d expect – beautiful, featherlight swans moving in mesmerising unison, grand sets (designed by John Macfarlane), lavish costumes (a personal favourite was the Queen’s glittering black Victorian ball gown with an enormous bustle), and a bombastic Tchaikovsky score.
Apart from an altered ending, there’s not much about this production by Liam Scarlett that shocks or surprises. Everything is neatly shaped to fit into the package that is ‘the ballet’. It’s still beautiful and satisfying to watch, but not particularly mind blowing.
In Act I the corps moves with military precision, with formations creating wonderful symmetry as the ballerinas swung their legs like pendulums. Then in the enchanted forest we meet Mayara Magri as Odette, who portrayed her with both a treacly sadness and light skittishness – not an easy combination to nail. Marcelino Sambé’s Prince Siegfried was a dependable partner, while also performing some seriously impressive jetés and pirouettes in his solos.
Luca Acri as Benno, the prince’s right-hand man, also executed some magnificent leaps, flying into the air and landing with great precision. Isabella Gasparini and Annette Buvolie were also lovely to watch as Siegfried’s sisters, performing a sweet and jovial pas de trois with Acri.
The evil sorcerer Von Rothbart, who is a right creep and basically classical ballet’s answer to an incel, was played by David Donnelly. A lot of his time was spent standing behind the swans in a deep lunge and waving his arms about, which I found more comedic than scary. But he did have a fabulously creepy costume, with a zombie-like bald head with threads of greasy hair, and a visible rib cage above a red, bloody stomach.
Magri’s Odile, aka the Black Swan, nailed the 32 foutteés that are the apex of Act III, but she could have been more seductive and menacing, with her movements lacking bite. But in the final act, she perfectly captured the broken and trembling Odette, appearing weak, heartbroken.
Spoiler alert: In this production, Siegfried survives instead of joining Odette in death. After Odette throws herself off the cliff, the prince emerges clutching the limp body of a woman. The spell has been broken, and she appears childlike in his arms. Odette’s ghost, still a swan, flutters in the sky behind him. I have always loved the melodrama and tragedy of ‘Swan Lake’ and having Seigfried survive made it even more brutal. However, the drama all unfolded so quickly I almost missed it.
If you’ve never been to the ballet before, ‘Swan Lake’ would be a brilliant place to start. But if you’re hoping for something a bit more unexpected, I’d suggest watching something else.
