M&A reviews ‘Symphonic Variations’ reviews Guillem in reviews Last year of RB reviews

Casting Guillem in the Fonteyn role was an obvious move from the box office point of view. This programme, of which there are only three performances open to the general public, sold out long ago. There has been considerable publicity: we are told Guillem was approached by Dowell to do this some time ago, but has only recently agreed., and there has been plenty of teasing speculation of who ‘TBA’ might be when she is not partnered by Le Riche. As a result, it’s very difficult to report on this without any preconceptions, just looking at the dance that unfolds. For the record, though I admire Guillem for the actress she has become and for her phenomenal body, I have had mixed feelings about her in Ashton roles: they don’t need her hyperextended legs.

In the event, it was Guillem the actress who dominated the piece. The level of expectation which had been built up was such that the actual experience was not quite overwhelming. It was touching, finely danced and passionate, with an exquisitely detailed performance by Guillem at the heart of it. But it didn’t quite sweep me off my feet or leave me sobbing (though I have to report considerable sniffing in the audience). Perhaps the reason, for me, is that Le Riche, although a very fine and polished dancer, just isn’t as great an actor: although the steps were impeccably performed, he did not really project Armand’s passion and urgency. Only in the confrontation scene, where he tears the diamond necklace from Marguerite’s neck, did he seem to communicate the real force of his feelings. Guillem, however, can use the tiniest means to convey Marguerite’s state of mind - the turn of her head, the set of her shoulders. When I say that in a sense you don’t notice her dancing, it’s because she is subsumed in Marguerite, she is Marguerite, and the dance seems the most natural expression of her thoughts. Technique did seem to be there purely in the service of the role, and not for its own sake.

As a work, Marguerite and Armand is intensely concentrated, and it’s a surprise to realise it’s as long as 35 minutes: it flashes by. In some senses this compression is very typical of Ashton, paring down a story to its absolute essentials: in others it’s untypical, with a passion and daring physical abandon that you can imagine the young MacMillan watching with an appraising eye. Guillem approaches the role in a way which works brilliantly for her, and I am glad that this work has been revived: perhaps more performances can bring out an intensity between the lovers which is still just slightly lacking right now.

Marguerite and Armand was the closing work on an Ashton quadruple bill. Is the rapid death Ashton seems to have envisaged for M&A better than the slow drawn out decay of a work, when the traditions and schooling which underpins it are no longer the same ? This is a question one has to ask about the Ashton heritage and the Royal. The RB’s standards of dancing in Ashton programmes in recent years have been pretty variable, with some wonderful and loving productions like Fille being offset by some uncertain and uncomfortable performances in productions such as Birthday Offering and Enigma Variations. This evening’s programme included some of Ashton’s greatest work; the performances seemed generally serviceable, rather than outstanding.

The evening opened with a revival of Les Rendezvous, an early Ashton from 1933, where he is at his lightest and most charming. It has been redesigned, with a startlingly ugly set in primary colours. The costumes (big polka dot dresses for the women, stripy blazers and boaters for the men) have clearly been put together by someone who thinks this tired old choreographer needs a bit of jazzing up and plenty of clashing colours to keep us awake. I did feel for the girls in the corps, who were wearing gloves that looked more suitable for washing up. Anthony Ward is the designer responsible.

The cast was led by Darcey Bussell, with a debutante-like innocence and sweetness. She was partnered by Roberto Bolle, who found his way through the detail of the steps well enough, but didn’t interact particularly with his partner. The highlight was a pas de trois, particularly Jamie Tapper. It’s not very spectacular - there’s no great jumps or lifts, but just intricate and beautifully executed detail as they circle the stage, flirting all the while. Quite delightful. The dance for ten men of the corps was also very well done - again it’s very intricate and detailed, and was put across well, with great clarity. It’s a lovely opening piece and puts you in a benign mood for the rest of the program.

I was so pleased when the Thais pas de deux was added to the originally advertised programme, because it’s one of my favourite Ashton pdd, and I have very fond memories of Nunn and Benjamin in it. In my mind it has always been a very perfumed, intense experience - everything you need to know about memory, desire and lost love in six minutes. Unfortunately, that’s not the experience I had on this evening. The dancers were Viviana Durante and Jonathan Cope - both fine dancers, but who have very rarely, if at all, danced together before. (He is rather too tall for her.) Cope is normally an exemplary partner, but this performance showed clear signs of under-rehearsal or lack of familiarity with each other. It didn’t flow as it should, and some of the lifts looked effortful rather than liquid. The chemistry that both these dancers can engender in other partners was lacking. Perhaps I am being a little harsh here (…er… in the way some will be for M&A..) because the audience adored it and responded with real fervour.

If the re-designers ever get their hands on Symphonic Variations, it really will be time to man the barricades. Sophie Fedorovitch’s designs are such a perfect settling for the work, and underscore its structure and logic. Sadly, all three female members of the cast (Yoshida, Hatley, Wildor) were injured, and their places were taken by Jane Burn, Mara Galeazzi and, in the lead, a new joiner from the corps, Alina Cojocaru. It was a good performance from someone from the corps, quite assured and calm, but it wasn’t a real fairy story star-is-born stuff. Unusually for this work, it was the men, particularly Bruce Sansom, who were most notable. There are only six dancers: no one leaves the stage in the duration of the ballet, there is nowhere to hide. There is no narrative: everything superfluous is pared away to reveal Ashton’s confidence in the simplest, most pure gestures, which just need perfect execution. It’s a lot to ask for; there were a few fluffed moments, and it didn’t maintain the illusion of effortlessness. It didn’t have the impact that some performances of this work have done, and had a comparatively muted response from the audience. It’s still a greater work than Marguerite and Armand, but it doesn’t offer a star vehicle in the same way. A pleasure to see it none the less.