As ever the great John Ross was at the photoshoot yesterday...

Federico Bonelli and Sarah Lamb in Chroma

Martin Harvey as Drum Major, and Leanne Benjamin with Edward Watson in Different Drummer

Mara Galeazzi as The Chosen One in Rite of Spring

RB: Chroma, Different Drummer, Rite of Spring - ROH, Feb 2008
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He was born to dance the role of Woyzeck, a soldier on whom experiments with substances are being performed by a weird doctor (Jonathan Howells) and an even stranger captain (a wonderful Thiago Soares, as we've never seen him before). These substances affect his mind as well as his body, and his increasingly strange behaviour sends his partner, Marie (Leanne Benjamin), into the arms of the colourful Drum Major (played here with gusto by Martin Harvey). At first she rejects him, but then succumbs (what woman wouldn't?!). In doing so, she seals her fate; Woyzeck viciously murders her, then commits suicide by drowning himself in the bath. As we see his body being wheeled across the stage with the doctor doing an autopsy to see what the effects of all the drugs have been on him, his soul is released and as the curtains drop Woyzeck is slowly, deliberately walking along the unending railroad tracks the soldiers have been guarding.

Not that it is that simple. This is MacMillan, after all! Much of this almost surreal work is left to one's own interpretation. Who or what is 'The Soldier' (Thomas Whitehead)? He is obviously some sort of Christ figure, with a crown of thorns on his head, and when doing a pdd with Marie she ends up two or three times in a 'Christ on the Cross' position. Why does he carry a one-eyed head onto the stage, only for Woyzeck to grab it and throw it into the wings? Why all of a sudden does Woyzeck shave the captain, when the captain is the one who has been, literally, barking orders up to that point? A few of us were discussing these things (and more) during the subsequent interval. No-one had definite answers, but a ballet that really makes one think and use the imagination can only be a good thing.

One doesn't 'enjoy' Different Drummer. One can appreciate the quality of dancing and drama on the stage, as portrayed by everybody on it. All the soldiers danced in time with each other (except when they were required to go bonkers and go awry when following the captain's skewed barking), and did a couple of beautiful sets of single-line jetes across the stage (reminiscent of Onegin). Martin Harvey made a cocky, confident Drum Major, managing to dance and twirl a large baton at the same time. Together with Mara Galeazzi, Watson and Benjamin form what is in my opinion the MacMillan triumvirate of the Royal Ballet. Watson and Benjamin have danced together for a long time, and it shows in the risks they take together, and in how well they understand each other, on both the physical and dramatic level. Both give superlative performances here. One of the many interesting things about Drummer is the contrast between the dark happenings onstage and the beautiful music (Schoenberg and Webern). Throughout this triple bill and three very different styles of music, all demanding in their own ways, the orchestra sounds fantastic under the baton of Barry Wordsworth. Here is a conductor who truly understands conducting for dance. I hope I can see this again...maybe I'll be able to answer some questions if I do.

Drummer is sandwiched into the middle of this triple bill by Chroma and Rite of Spring. Chroma still looks fresh and exciting, with the same cast as the last outing except that Mara Galeazzi has replaced an injured Alina Cojocaru. Ed Watson had a busy afternoon; after dancing Chroma he went straight into Drummer with only a 30 minute break. It looks like this will be the only time this season we get to see Watson and Galeazzi dance together, and even this short piece is worth it just for that. Again, these two understand and feed off each other and just look perfect together. They both have a manic edge that gives me a frisson whenever I see them dance together. I said it last time and I will say it again: I would love to see Lauren Cuthbertson and Eric Underwood dance together some more; they too have an underlying danger to their dancing which means that they complement each other very well.

The final piece is MacMillan's feral, savage Rite of Spring, which happily involves almost the whole Company, who were electrifying throughout. They pulsated like the beating heart of a new earth, and made me glad and grateful to be on that same earth.

edited to correct typos and add a couple more thoughts

The first triple bill of 2008 at Covent Garden is a very curious mix, and a reminder that putting together three pieces that work really well together is something of an art. The dark and tortured intensities of MacMillan’s Different Drummer, a problematic work in a rare revival (still only the 19th performance), really didn’t sit comfortably between the cool but astringent spikiness of Chroma and the stomping whirlwind of Rite of Spring. Something a little light hearted and frivolous might have provided a more piquant contrast.

Wayne McGregor’s Chroma made a big impact on its premiere here early last season, and won a National Dance Award for the best new classical choreography last year. It is anything but classical of course in its steps, using instead McGregor’s trademark language of strange dips, curls and twitches, slashing arms and legs and enterprisingly peculiar twists in partnering. The exquisite white-box set by John Pawson looks as handsome as ever, beautifully lit by Lucy Carter.

There’s only one change to the cast from last time, Mara Galeazzi replacing Alina Cojocaru who wisely choose not to risk a previously injured neck through some contorted moves. We now have the opportunity to get to know the work better. A slow section for Sarah Lamb and Federico Bonelli while the stage is bathed in blue light has taken on an intimacy and sense of tenderness that hadn’t emerged so clearly before, and is a welcome oasis of calm amid the more frenetic sections. I always associated McGregor with speed and propulsion, but here he shows us he can do slow and lyrical if he wants to. The entire cast (Watson, Bonelli, McRae, Underwood, Watkins, Ondiviela, Cuthbertson, Rojo, Galeazzi, Lamb) give committed performances, throwing themselves into whatever the choreographer asks of them. You do wonder though why you haven’t seen much more of Eric Underwood cast in other works on the strength of his performance here.

Different Drummer is a frustrating puzzle. There are some wonderful moments in this and two tremendous central performances, but the work has its flaws and doesn’t sit happily in this mixed bill. It was made in the 1980s by MacMillan and is a dance version of the Woyzeck story. He is a much put upon and abused soldier whose common law wife Marie is unfaithful with one of his superior officers. The tormented and anguished soldier finally murders her and (possibly) kills himself. It’s dark, grim tale set to Webern and Schoenberg, played out on almost a totally black stage, and it felt strange at the interval to return to the afternoon sunshine – it should have been a dark and stormy night.

Essentially this is one of MacMillan’s character studies the corrosive effects of sexual infatuation on a handful of protagonists, which we really need to see up close and personal, in a much smaller theatre. But to fit the work into the larger opera house context, MacMillan has added a corps of soldiers, and later a bunch of whores who do nothing to move the story along or anything of much interest choreographically. Stripped of these and seen close up, the impact would have been greater. Some things are wilfully opaque and others just don’t work theatrically. Woyzeck’s death, if it is that, is shown by him climbing inside a huge bathtub and shutting the lid. This never convinced in the previous revivals either. It just looks daft.

But at the heart of this work there is a terrific central performance from Edward Watson, adding another damaged and deranged creature to his existing repertoire. Leanne Benjamin excels in the MacMillan slut roles and she flings herself into this one with abandon, winding herself round Watson’s neck as if she was made of fine chiffon. Watson’s partnering seems noticeably stronger this season (after scaling the peaks of Mayerling previously) and the two of them tore through some particularly challenging pas de deux with fearless abandonment. Rather surprisingly, Martin Harvey as the Drum Major didn’t look entirely happy in the role. He looked as if he might have appreciated some more rehearsal time for his solo with the huge mace (not one of MacMillan’s most subtle moments). It needs a much more forceful and threatening presence than he supplied on this occasion.

Rite of Spring is a much earlier MacMillan work from 1962, and one we have seen much more of at Covent Garden – this was the 86th performance. This is the most iconic of ballet scores, conducted here by Barry Wordsworth with evident pleasure. It’s such a familiar piece of music now that it’s difficult to grasp just how revolutionary it was at the time of writing.

This is one of MacMillan’s modern expressionistic works, danced in flat shoes, featuring a huge cast of almost fifty. They are dressed in yellow and red leotards patterned with prints of hands like a cave painting. The effect recalls aboriginal art. All faces are painted in white with black patterning. They are an anonymous crowd, but moving with striking unanimity and synchronicity, given the complex demands of the score.

Tamara Rojo is the chosen maiden, to be danced to death to ensure the fertility of the earth for another year. Her final solo doesn’t really look like much else that MacMillan did – all jagged leaps and lunges, splayed hands and contorted puppet positions. You can see a connection here with the McGregor work that opened the bill, so this element of the programming paid off.

Rojo launches into this with ferocious attack – in the quiet moments of the score you can here her gasping for breath. It’s probably heresy to say so, but I think I preferred the designs used by ENB for their recent production of this work to the original ones used by the Royal. All the make up makes it difficult to read faces clearly, and it’s a great loss not to see Tamara Rojo’s eyes as clearly as one would like. The fear and horror there were perceptible but still could have been clearer.

There are frustrations in this programme, but there are some tremendous performances in it. Further casts to come include Putrov as Woyzeck and Galeazzi as the Chosen Maiden: they have quite a bit to live up to, and it will be interesting to see what they make of it.

Previously I had thought that the Rite of Spring dancers were all alike, apart from the adults in orange, the adolescents in a paler shade and the Chosen One in yellow, the women with long hair and the elders with masks and white hair, but from nearer the front I noticed that the hand markings on the leotards are all different and the men's black face and head markings are different too. Something of this can be seen in John's photos. So to us they may all look alike, in fact it is almost impossible to identify anybody except the Chosen One, but to the dancers themselves they are all individuals. If it had not already been done these costumes would have been fine for a scene in Wayne McGregor's Darwinian work Genus.

ooh - I don't know, I can pick out most of them, even from the back of the Stalls Circle. And I'm sure I'm not the only one! Nice to see Vanessa Palmer back as one of the 6 maiden candidates for the Chosen One, for example.

Well maybe I was sitting too near and came under the spell of the Camouflagius Curse.

.

- I did have to use binoculars of course. I suppose that my near obsessive curtain calls photo taking means I have become somewhat adept at picking out their faces now, no matter how extreme the make-up/wigs/hats. Though masks usually manage to foil me, as you can imagine!

In most MacMillan ballets, the members of the corps are encouraged to present themselves as individuals and put over their own individual characters. Think of all the business that goes on in the brothel scene in Manon, or on the streets of Verona in R&J - lots of individuals scheming and bickering, clearly all with their own stories.

We have the opposite here: you are much more aware of the corps as a single entity, as a tribe with a collective will. There is no characterisation of individuals other than the Chosen One. Those with binoculars and a good knowledge of the dancers might be able to pick out people they recognise, but that's not really what MacMillan seems to be interested in here. It's a presentation of the group, one unit, the collective, and as such it's rather unusual in his work.

>Different Drummer is a frustrating puzzle. There are some
>wonderful moments in this and two tremendous central
>performances, but the work has its flaws

Yes, I think that about sums it up for me, too.

>Essentially this is one of MacMillan’s character studies the
>corrosive effects of sexual infatuation on a handful of
>protagonists, which we really need to see up close and
>personal, in a much smaller theatre.

Strongly agree with that, too. Even using my opera glasses, I felt such a lot of it was getting lost between the stage and halfway up the amphi, not helped by the very darkness of the production. I was thinking that Sadler's Wells would have been a more suitable venue, or even, if you wanted something bigger, the Coliseum, where the audience aren't so far from the stage. But then you'd need to cut out some of the extraneous soldiers and whores, which might not have been a bad idea, as you suggest. It would certainly have led to a tighter, more intimate, work.

>But at the heart of this work there is a terrific central
>performance from Edward Watson, adding another damaged and
>deranged creature to his existing repertoire.

Yes, indeed.

>Rather surprisingly, Martin
>Harvey as the Drum Major didn’t look entirely happy in the
>role. He looked as if he might have appreciated some more
>rehearsal time for his solo with the huge mace (not one of
>MacMillan’s most subtle moments).

Yes, I wondered whether moving his performance up in the schedule by a couple of weeks was counter-productive.

>They are an anonymous crowd, but moving with
>striking unanimity and synchronicity, given the complex
>demands of the score.

Yet, oddly, despite the painted faces and even from halfway up the amphi I found it surprisingly easy to detect dancers such as Choe, Kobayashi, Duprot and - yes! - Vanessa Palmer back from maternity leave.

>It’s probably heresy to say so, but I think I preferred the
>designs used by ENB for their recent production of this work
>to the original ones used by the Royal. All the make up
>makes it difficult to read faces clearly, and it’s a great
>loss not to see Tamara Rojo’s eyes as clearly as one would
>like. The fear and horror there were perceptible but still
>could have been clearer.

Yes, it's quite difficult at times to distinguish the dancers from the highly patterned floor/back wall vinyl. And I'm not sure I appreciated the colour-coding of the Chosen One - in ENB's production it's far less clear which one of the six is going to be the one selected, and I think that adds to the atmosphere.

The choice of Verklaerte Nacht seems very strange, because this sublime music just does not match the mood of the story and to my mind is counter productive. We seem to have two separate things going on here that just do not match and are disconnected.

I was pleased to find that Chroma did live up to my expectations and greatly enjoyed it again. The power and rhythms of the opening and closing numbers are superb. The final number (Hovercraft) is a marvel and you hardly know where to look – you can take your pick, even choosing those dancers who are standing still, waiting for them to start, and not be disappointed. The set and lighting are indeed everything that is needed here.

The Rite of Spring was also superb. The start of those pounding beats in Augurs of Spring is enough to get anyone’s blood pumping and eyes glowing. Musically, it was not a bludgeoning, overpowering performance, and that was fine because it was well balanced with the on-stage ensemble. I liked the make-up – I was using good binoculars and indeed, Rojo’s eyes were magnificent – frozen wide with shock and terror. Also, towards the end she put everything into dancing – and acting – herself to death: you could see the trembling of her limbs as the exhaustion of the dance took its toll. A stunning dance and musical spectacle in every respect.

Seeing Chroma when it was new I was bowled over. Here for once was a work that was recognisably classical but refreshingly forward looking in its use of the language. I still find the same zest, the vim and vigour that make this a refreshingly intoxicating work. But any less well performed, would this piece look any different than much that you may see in many contemporary companies? And the programming with Rite of Spring showed us MacMillan had got there 45 years before in some of the couplings and partnering.

But what a delight to see such a talented cast pushing themselves to their limits – and beyond, with such enjoyment and style. I don’t think at this first performance of the run the cast were as totally on as at the premiere performances, but they were stunning in themselves and showed the choreography to perfection. I hope that this is a piece that will be more widely seen.

Unlike…

In the rather worthy but not that illuminating articles about Different Drummer in the programme there is a quote from Georg Büchner to his fiancée – “what is it in us that lies, murders and steals?”

How apt a summary of MacMillan’s œuvre. Apt too given the recent news from my home town (which is never in the news) – a 14 year old girl stabbed over 30 times in a park on her way home. Why? Perhaps, though I had never understood MacMillan’s predilection for such subjects, given such behaviour perhaps this is still a theme for ballet to explore, to throw light on human motivation, however depraved the circumstances.

Trouble is, with Different Drummer we are none the wiser, (though judging by the rather dazed reactions after the performance on 2 February the bars at the ROH will be doing good business as a consequence). I’m rather a literal soul, so I want to understand the relationship between Marie and Woyzeck; I want to understand Woyzeck’s motivation; I want to understand what “a soldier” is doing in the piece. I want the dance to grow out of the music, not be at odds with it (think of Gloria). Others less worryingly literal than me have commented about the expressionistic, ambiguous, episodic dreamlike qualities of both Wozzeck and Different Drummer. I’m sure it was all clear in MacMillan’s mind, but for me at least it doesn’t translate to the stage.

Why does Woyzeck wrap his head in what appears to be the baby’s swaddling clothes? Why does “a soldier” appear in a crown of thorns? Why does this soldier carry a decapitated head? (Was this John the Baptist’s head? Probably not). Why does Woyzeck murder Marie after their seeming reconciliation? Why does the dance not emerge as an expression of the music? Why do characters leave the stage with no motivation after a scene?

All of which could make fascinating theatre – and I would be more charitable if it were all better realised. Why was the production so badly lit that the soldier’s head could be mistaken for a baby? Why is Woyzeck’s drowning invisible if you are house left? The captain conceived as a silent film thug? After Anastasia you would have hoped that prancing soldiers were left alone, but no. Soldiers in gas masks? Ladies of pleasure from the MacMillan Academy of Carnal Delights – again? It all smacks of undergraduate wanna-shockability, but is desperately maladroit (as in dramatic terms was his TV version of Seven Deadly Sins from 1984 too, also created on Alessandra Ferri).

As has been said by other posters here, perhaps a smaller theatre would show Different Drummer to better advantage, but in its current form it looks like one of those intractable pieces unsuited for the vastness of an opera house which has the consequence of making ballet a medium unsuited to carry the seriousness of MacMillan’s exploration of human behaviour.

The one quality I find in MacMillan’s work is a sense of claustrophobia. Here, and from the same year that Different Drummer was created, I remember his production of Strindberg’s Dance of Death at the Manchester Royal Exchange which had the same sense of human beings stultifying in their own existence. I’ve had the same response to My Brother My Sisters, Triad and The Judas Tree.

It just doesn’t work as good theatre – for me, not redeemed even by some splendid performances. I’m not normally a fan of Leanne Benjamin but here she was very impressive; hard to credit it’s 24 years since I first saw her dance. What wonderful control and extended balances. Martin Harvey too was very good, not so scorching as his recent Gaveston, but with all the drama, power of the role’s creator, Stephen Jefferies – plus some more. Edward Watson did everything that was thrown at him very strongly – but somehow there was a sense of abandon missing, somehow he was too elegant.

And so to the light relief of The Rite of Spring. I was lucky enough to see this for the first time in 1982, from high up in the amphitheatre. The scissor like movements, trapping Monica Mason’s chosen maiden (in her last performance in the role) as she hops have remained an indelible memory. Seeing the work subsequently it’s never had the same power, until this revival. Having an oblique view of the stage was interesting, the patterns and floor formations stand such scrutiny – but the best part of this revival was the attack of the ensemble. The pulsated energy and primal excitement while being wonderfully precise and disciplined.

The disappointment for me was Tamara Rojo. Essentially I had the same response to this performance as when seeing her in the role with ENB: this was a rather contained, careful performance. Some lovely moments (she reminded me of Lynn Seymour in her circular, flailing run around the stage) but other moments that require a steely strength seemed under projected. The hopping between the scissor pinches looked like a playground game, not a desperate attempt to escape the pincer movement. The S-shaped leaping back bends near the end were sketched (the difference with Mara Galeazzi in the photos here is striking) rather than fully shaped.

But as a company performance overall this was hugely impressive and rescued the piece and rescued it from the psychedelic, Sixties’ primitivism that have hung over recent revivals. Here was a choreographer in charge, re-visualising the music (thanks, glad to have seen the Nijinsky reconstruction but … ), a pulsating piece that illuminates the subject, provides great opportunities for the performers and fills the theatre with energy and excitement.