Terpschore Titles: Outstanding Male Dancers

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I have decided to make two awards in this category:  one for principals and soloists of major companies who dance leading roles in full-length ballets and another for the rest. I do that to acknowledge brilliant performances in one act ballets and to avoid comparing the incomparable such as Alvin Ailey's Revelations with the Bolshoi's Swan Lake. In both categories I am looking for a male dancer who has spoken to me in a special way in 2016.

In the latter category, the choice is easy.  It is Damien Johnson of Ballet Black. I have described him as "one of the most exciting dancers on the British stage right now" and I repeat those words now.  I have seen him in no less than five shows this year - three of Ballet Black's triple bill and two of Dogs Don't Do Ballet and in rehearsal at the Barbican. In each performance he has delighted me whether as the Obama-like dad accompanying his excited daughter with her dog in tow to the theatre to see Madame Kanikova in Christopher Marney's Dogs or as the sailor in Christopher Hampson's Storyville which I reviewed for the first time in Ballet Black made my Manchester Day on 20 June 2016. Johnson is one of the reasons why I go to Ballet Black, why I support it not only with my pen (OK keyboard) but also with my widow's mite as a Friend and also why I love that company so.

But where do I start with the first category? There have been so many great performances this year starting with James Hay in Rhapsody and Alexander Campbell in The Two Pigeons in January (see The Royal Ballet's Double Bill 18 Jan 2016); continuing with Artur Shesterikov in Mata Hari, Joseph Caley as Oberon and Jamie Bond as Beliaev in Ashton's Double Bill in February; Tyrone Singleton's magnificent performance as Romeo where he stepped in for Bond at the last moment in March (see A Good Outcome from an Unhappy Event - Singleton's Fine Performance 6 March 2016); Federico Bonelli for his memorable performance as Albrecht (see Cuthbertson's Giselle 3 April 2016) and Vadim Muntagirov in The Winter's Tale a month later; Javier Torres as Cathy Marston's Rochester, Victor Zarallo as Siegfried and Nicholas Shoesmith as Benno in David Dawson's Swan Lake for Scottish Ballet (see Empire Blanche: Dawson's Swan Lake 4 June 2016), Yonah Acosta's Siegfried in English National Ballet's (see Swan Lake in the Round 13 June 2016) and Iain Mackay in The Taming of the Shrew (see Birmingham Royal Ballet performs my favourite ballet at last 21 June 2016) all of which took place in June; Rudy Hawkes as Siegfried in The Australian Ballet's Swan Lake (see The Australian Ballet's Swan Lake - Murphy won me over 17 May 2016). Ruslan Skvortsov as Siegfried in the Bolshoi's (see Grigorovich's Swan Lake in Covent Garden 31 July 2016) or Ty King Wall in Zatmansky's Cinderella, a great ballet that I forgot to discuss in my review of 2016 (see Ratmansky's Razzmatazz 24 July 2016) in July; Vladislav Lantratov as Petrucchio in  Jean-Christophe Maillot's The Taming of the Shrew in August (see Bolshoi's Triumph - The Taming of the Shrew 4 Aug 2016); Mackay and Singleton again in David Bintley's new ballet The Tempest in October; Jozef Varga as Solor in the Dutch National Ballet's La Bayadere in November and Shesterikov again in Coppelia.

There were a handful of performances that really stood out for me this year, namely Singleton's Romeo in March, Bonelli's Albrecht in April, Zarallo and Shoesmith in Dawson's Swan Lake, Varga's Solor and Shesterikov in Mata Hari and Coppelia. I have been twisting and turning all night trying to decide this issue - particularly between Bonelli and Shesterikov. A choice has to be made. I have chosen Shesterikov because of his mastery of two very different roles in two very different ballets. In making that choice I am comforted by the knowledge that I am in very good company for Shesterikov is also the most recent winner of the Alexandra Radius prize (see Principal Dancer Artur Shesterikov wins Radius Prize on the Dutch National Ballet website).

Empire Blanc: Dawson's Swan Lake

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Scottish Ballet, Swan Lake, Liverpool Empire, 3 June 2016


On my train back from Liverpool a young man asked to borrow my programme. He explained that he had attended Scottish Ballet's Swan Lake but had not bought a programme because he had not noticed any on sale. He added that this had been his first experience of ballet. "How lucky you are," I reflected as I handed him my programme "for I can think of no better introduction to the ballet that this one."  The reason I say that is that David Dawson has distilled Swan Lake into a very potent concoction. When that young man sees a traditional Swan Lake, such as English National Ballet's in the round at the Albert Hall which I recommended strongly to him, he will understand and appreciate that work in a way that he would never have done otherwise. However, had he started with such a work he might well have been lost in a sea of tutus, feathery headgear or been diverted by the divertissements.

Readers will have noticed that I used the word distilled in relation to Dawson's Swan Lake rather than "stripped down" as did Judith Mackrell in The Guardian (see Swan Lake review – stripped-back version even loses the lake 20 April 2016) and Mark Monahan in The Telegraph (see You can strip a Rolls-Royce down only so far before it stops being a Rolls-Royce 20 April 2016) for with all due respect to them they miss the point. This was Swan Lake all right in the way that so many other choreographers' versions are not.  All the essentials of the story are there and Dawson is faithful to the characters - except perhaps to Rothbart whose role in the equivalent of the black act is performed by four men in masks. Dawson told the story directly and without distractions in a way that is appropriate to our times.

The reason why Rothbart was all but written out of the story is that he is not essential to it and his cape waving gets in the way. Dawson does not need Rothbart because nobody has cast a spell over Odette. She is described in the synopsis as

"a beautiful woman by the lake. Goddess-like and barely human, she is the Swan Queen, Odette, replenishing her powers from the waters of the lake. She morphs between forms both human and swan."

In her excellent programme note, A Swan Lake for a New Generation, the Glasgow Herald's  ballet correspondent Mary Brennan explains:

"And the Swan herself. Dawson refuses to show her as a victim. 'In my version she is not a prisoner of any kind of spell. Rather she is a goddess, a divine being in her own right - and free to make her own choices in her relationship with Siegfied.' Rather than take the 19th century Romantic version at face value, Dawson went researching into other source material. He came across a mythic version that sparked his imagination: 'It described those goddess creatures who once every hundred years would come to bathe in the lake so as to replenish their beauty and immortality. The chances of anyone ever seeing them ..... it shouldn't happen, but Siegfried has, yet again, gone off by himself and - like something out of his own inner imaginings - he encounters the exquisitely ethereal Odette.'" 

Given that scenario there is no need for a Queen Mother, or a bow, or the contrived show of generosity which seems a bit artificial for an 18 year old even in Petipa's version:

"Gee thanks Ma. A crossbow for decimating the local bird life. Just what I really wanted. I mean everyone has an iPad and what would I do with a Porsche? "

However, there is a need for Benno, Siegfried's good mate in Petipa's version. His role is greatly expanded and he stays with Siegfried throughout the ballet.

As in Petipa's version the focus is on Siegfried who is described in the scenario as  "portent and pensive", a lovely phrase for just plain moody.  Yesterday that role was danced by Victor Zarallo. Although there are plenty of moments when his considerable strength and stamina requires he is most effective when he is alone on stage, sometimes motionless, other times a barque on a stormy sea of conflicting emotions.

Good hearted, kindly generous Benno who sticks with his friend even after Siegfried threatens him, was danced by Nicholas Shoesmith. Tall, athletic and commanding girls flock to him in total contrast to his maungy mate. He tries so hard to entice Siegfried out of his moodiness. Standing with his arm over his friend's shoulder he presents one delectable maiden after another to distract Siegfried from his dark thoughts. When Odile appears and Siegfried flips he tries in vain to keep him grounded. The equivalent of the fluttering image of Odette through the French window doors in the traditional version is Benno's urging Siegfried to be sure that he has found the right girl.

The star of Swan Lake is of course Odette-Odile. It is a role that not every ballerina can dance convincingly because it requires the projection of two personalities from the same body. I may be wrong but I should imagine the easier part is probably the seductress Odile despite all those fouettés because she is manifestly human.  It must be far more difficult to become a swan.  Bethany Kingsley-Garner, who has recently been elevated to principal, was perfect in both. She first came to my notice as Cinderella in Edinburgh (see Scottish Ballet's Cinderella 20 Dec 2015) and she has already entered my canon of all time greatest ballerinas. The only other Scottish dancer in that rare company is Elaine McDonand (see Elaine McDonald in her own Words 11 March 2014).

I should say a few words about John Otto's sets and Yumiko Takeshima.

Judith Mackrell complains that there is no lake. She is wrong, It is there. Indeed it is central to the ballet. It is the boundary between the real world in which Siegfried and Benno live and the ethereal world of Odile. Otto cleverly creates that boundary with his translucent screens and backdrop.

"Where are the tutus and feathery headgear?" one might ask. Takeshima has lost them and rightly so for their only purpose is to represent the body and movement of a swan and Dawson's choreography does that so much better. Her characters are dressed simply and timelessly: white leotards as swans, full skirted Dances at a Gathering style dresses as party guests or in trousers, T-shirts and jackets in the case of the men.

Nevertheless, we did see swans and that was through Dawson's expressive choreography. The fluid arm movements in open fifth to suggest the expansive flapping of wings. The glissades and low level lifts and turns to suggest gliding and hovering over water. There was so much detail. Miming, Benno's facial expressions even a high fives at one point in the first scene.

Although Dawson created every single step there was still a lot of Petipa in his ballet. The cygnets, for example, was still a pas de quatre albeit free moving, energetic, high jumping, young swans just as one can find on any waterway.  In the seduction scene, first Siegfried then Odile did fouettés. I was bolt upright on the edge of my seat with excitement.

While waiting for my train at Lime Street I tweeted congratulations to Christopher Hampson, David Dawson and Scottish Ballet. I am sure the company's founder Peter Darrell would have been proud of this work had he lived to see it. And though some may disagree with me, I think Marius Petipa would have been proud of Dawson too.

Why the Empire Blanc title to this review? The first Dawson work that I had seen on stage was Dawson's Empire Noire in Amsterdam (see Going Dutch 29 June 2015). I saw Swan Lake in the Empire Theatre in Liverpool. And "blanc" because most swans outside Australia at any rate are white.  Despite a lot of sweeties packet rustling, a constant hum of commentary and all sorts of liberties taken with mobile phones the Empire was a good place to see this ballet.  Liverpudlians are warm and passionate folk and they showed those qualities in their cheers and clapping at the end.