© Asya Verzhbinsky 'Tryst' reviews RB 'Gong' reviews 'Gong' reviews RB 'Carmen' reviews 'Carmen' reviews Hatley in reviews Harvey in reviews recent RB reviews more PhilipB reviews

Tryst The first lecture was James MacMillan who spoke eloquently on his music, Tryst (he, in common with other Scots, pronounced it "Triste" with the 'y' as an 'eye', so you can now all sound superior in the interval) being used for Christopher Wheeldon's new ballet, which received mixed reviews on these pages when first seen earlier this year, but I noticed was voted Best New Ballet on the Poll of the Year so I guess it grew on you.

In fact, James MacMillan was the first in an impressive set of "horses mouths" as we had the actual composer and designer of Tryst and the dancer that M was created on in Carmen to round off the day. But I digress - back to James MacMillan.

He started off by explaining his own musical background (apparently he started on the recorder like any other regular schoolboy), that of a classic cerebral and rigorous academic education, including studying music at university. It was at this time that he began to realise there was a certain snobbishness to classical music, in that it considered itself the most pure and abstract of all art forms, in that it didn't (at that time) comment or interact with, the world and social context around it. It didn't think it needed to - music stirs the heart and changes people's lives and perspectives on life all the time, even when the piece 'means' (in the traditional sense) nothing - truly a mystical art and one that is "self-complete".

MacMillan was envious of how his colleagues in other art forms (he specifically mentioned film makers and sculptors) were able to interact and collaborate with other art forms and reflect on real life. MacMillan never mentioned any particular subject matter that he was interested in exploring so it must be accepted as an intellectually pure desire, and not one that arose due to a desire to comment on, say, politics or religion specifically, as is the wont of many idealistic young students. He was simply motivated to "add a layer of expression to the abstract layer of music." Although Tryst is his first formal step into the world of ballet he is clearly excited by the opportunities for expression that ballet gives him, such a refreshing change from the usual attitude of a successful and well-respected composer.

Technically, he wanted to remove traditional rhythms, or pulses, such as those found classically in the waltz, and add new pulses, new ways of moving the music along. It is possibly this new form of "tonal structure", above all else, that can make MacMillan’s music seem so "different" and hard to understand at a first listening, but which can reward greater perseverance and depth of understanding.

The central pdd from Christopher Wheeldon's Tryst
Photograph by Asya Verzhbinsky

He gained a broad musical (and performance) background by playing in both a rock and folk band, performing in pubs and clubs. His major inspiration for linking different art forms was a Spanish piece of music theatre called Busqueda, which combined poetry, Latin mass, acting, dance and music about Argentinean mothers who went missing. He also told us about other landmark pieces along the way - his 1990 Proms work exploring the story of a Scottish witch, The Confession of Isobel Gowdie, (which classical.net describe as "a truly sensation event...because of the direct, emotionally gripping music it contained."), and Tuireadh in 1991, with Mark Baldwin, about the Piper Alpha oil rig disaster and a collaboration with Royston Muldoon in 1992 with young amateur dancers from across Europe for a Heads of State summit in Edinburgh.

All this is leading up to the Tryst collaboration with Christopher Wheeldon of course. Tryst (the music) was originally written back in 1989 (based on a poem by William Soutar), and has undergone many different transformations and re-workings, some even by himself, a fact explained by his statement that he isn't "proprietorial" about his music, which is a good thing if you allow one of your most famous works to used by a ballet! An interesting tid-bit was that Wheeldon first had in mind to use his Cello Concerto (1996) but changed his mind when he considered Tryst. The Cello Concerto work may still happen in the future, though.

MacMillan explained that his way of adding in the new kinds of "pulses", as mentioned earlier, in Tryst, was to have a repeating sequence of 3 chords, with a distance between them - this distance being gradually reduced to convey the effect of movement and progress. It is this mechanism that Wheeldon has picked up on so effectively in his choreography.

Tryst, musically, is in 5 sections, with the middle section the more romantic intimate section, danced as a pas de deux. MacMillan affirms that this section has a Celtic influence, along with Stravinsky and Shostakovich.

MacMillan commented on how impressed he was with the depth and complexity of the corps de ballet work, how he found it "awe inspiring" how they would pick up such complex choreography so quickly and replicate the steps so unerringly after that. Although he conducted during the first run of Tryst, he would not be doing so this time (he commented it was "in safe hands". Hmmm.), but that he had already started work with Wheeldon on a new piece for NYCB in 2004, although no notes had yet been written.

Asked if the music had been altered in any way by Wheeldon or the dancers, particularly with regard to speed, he grinned and said there "was a bit of give and take" and that both seemed to change their minds according to their mood!

After a coffee break, the designer of Tryst, the laid-back Jean-Marc Puissant talked about the whole design process (a complex and artistic one, even though he started out by saying the piece was "self-explanatory"), including original set designs and even where the ideas come from - he showed us photographs from a trip to the Isle of Mull which gave him a strong sense of "panorama" he wanted to capture. One of the strongest themes to the design was that of "urban" - he showed how an original photograph of a Wall St. scene in the 1950's gave him the idea for the wings. Balanchine's Symphony in Three Movements was another inspiration.

Jean-Marc met Wheeldon at the Edinburgh Festival (a theme for the whole day - it seems life revolves around Edinburgh!) when Polyphonia was being shown. Apparently Wheeldon really wanted to do a ballet based on a Shostakovich piece, but changed his mind when he heard MacMillan's Tryst.

The themes for the three sections of Tryst were considered to be: 1. Urban, busy. 2. Celtic. 3. Hectic, urban, more psychotic than the first section. Suspenseful, very New York. Interestingly, Jean-Marc never spoke with James MacMillan to come up with these!

The stage floor is angled deliberately to change the audience's perception from that of the traditional front-on. Deliberately, the right-side corner is therefore left poking in front of the curtain.

Very interestingly, he discussed how this piece was built around the time of September 11th, in New York, and how this may, sub-consciously, have affected both his designs and possibly even the choreography - or at least how we might emotionally connect with it - ref: the end of the pdd, where all that had seemed bright and optimistic is destroyed suddenly.

He finished by explaining his own background - a POB school dancer who joined BRB and Stuttgart before injuring his knee at 26 for 10 months which affected him more than just physically. He decided to re-train as a designer based on an inspiring conversation in a canteen with a visiting opera design team. He trained at the small Motley Theatre Design Course in Drury Lane.

Finally, before lunch, Christopher Saunders rehearsed Martin Harvey and Belinda Hatley in the Tryst pdd. Although casting is still largely unpublished it is clear from their level of expertise that they may be the second cast for the three remaining slots. The always-convivial Saunders revealed some of the amusing names given to sections of the ballet - the horizontal stretch for Belinda was known as the "superman", a lift with the feet at right-angles to the leg is "duck-feet", another is "star trek". He explained that dancers cannot 'count' Tryst due to the lack of traditional rhythms and that Darcey Bussell's slides on point are always perfect somehow. Final amusement came at the end when Hatley must lean out on point from Harvey with only one hand from him around her waist to stop her from crashing to the ground. As it reached the point of no return (he did catch her) she yelped and said, "Just as well I trust you, Martin!" Saunders said he is always nervous when watching that bit.

Overall, the dancing was of a high class and the intricacy of Wheeldon's ideas were plain to see in the intimacy of the Linbury.

Gong. Tina Fehlandt took the 'rehearsal'. She is a founder member of the Mark Morris Dance Group, having accepted his invitation over a beer some twenty years ago to "do something". A year later they played two nights to 50 people each, a year later three nights to 100 people each night. Fortunately they were 'discovered' the next year and the rest is history. She retired from dancing last year and now runs the new Dance Group School, a community-based school that she hopes to develop in a more professional direction also, and become a feeder for the main Group. She also still sets Mark Morris ballets on other companies, hence her presence at Covent Garden.

Despite Gong being the only unseen work in this triple bill, Gong was given only this one 45-minute section, which is a little disappointing. However, more information can be found in a Dancing Times article.

Mark Morris's Gong
Photograph by Asya Verzhbinsky ©

In the end, this section wasn't really a rehearsal as Tina also spoke about her and Mark Morris' background and explained something about Gong the ballet. In the end I think First Artist Deidre Chapman demonstrated about 3 short movements (with Henry Roche on piano), but was not corrected by Tina in any way and we weren't really given any insight into the dancing side of the ballet at all.

She revealed that Mark never set inappropriate work on classical ballet dancers - e.g. barefoot modern work, and vice versa - he never asked one of his dancers to wear pointe shoes. She explained that the 15 dancers for Gong all wore different costumes.

She admires Mark for his ability to create choreography on the fly, just walking into a room and saying "right, let's do this..." and for adapting his ideas to the dancers in front of him (not that he accepted any input, mind - she described him, fondly, as an "un-cooperative tyrant"). She also admires his ability to play with rhythm - for example, breaking down an 8-count into several smaller mini-sections within the overall structure, or for placing a hand-position on 6, but the head on 8.

She outlined the casting process - Mark knew some of the dancers already, but also she taught a class Mark's technique and then held an audition where she looked for who could handle it best and who was most receptive to this new style. She said that the RB dancers were "very open" and the whole experience had been "very pleasant".

One comment she made was interesting - essentially she said that the star of a Mark Morris piece was the choreography - not the dancers.

In response to an audience member questioning the seemingly "casual" nature of Chapman's movements and gestures ("was she just marking it?"), she said that was Mark's style and it was deliberate. The dancers were so good they made it look that easy. (No comment!)

Carmen First we had the lively Italian, Giannandrea Poesia, dance critic for The Spectator, amongst many other things. He explained about Mats Ek's well-known family background and professional career to date and concentrated on Ek's (in)famous ballet "re-creations", such as Swan Lake and Carmen. He argued that people should not be so hung up on these "modern re-workings" being controversial or disrespectful (in 1949 there was a version of Carmen with obvious fellatio, so Ek is hardly avant garde) - works such as Giselle have been changed so often from the original that the term "original" is meaningless anyway. Rather than slavishly following a particular storyline, Ek is more interested in the psychology of characters, such as Giselle and Carmen, and in the subject of motherhood in particular. Carmen does not have a linear storyline, but is rather a set of isolated scenes, memories and dreams.

He then merged his section with the rehearsal part, taken by a fellow Italian, Pompea Santoro (from Cullberg Ballet) and danced by Thomas Whitehead, again with Henry Roche on the piano. His idea to get her on stage was a good one - she was a riveting speaker and revealed that she was the actual dancer that Ek created the mysterious character M on - he really did not have a specific explanation for the character, how she was going to be or how she would develop - he simply started with Pompea and said that, "We shall start and see how..." and that M is just a combination of mother, morte and Michaela, one that is not defined or explained for you.

She then rehearsed Whitehead who is already competent in the role, magnificent at times, but even so she was able to improve his performance - one on-going technique she impressed upon him was to keep the movements fluid, not to 'hit' positions, pause and then move on to the movement, but rather to keep stretching *through* the position and into the next - the power will come also from the music, so reaching a position in time with the music is essential.

Together with Pompea, Giannandrea explained some of Ek's signature choreographic style - the arm reaches, and a second position with the feet turned slightly inwards, a position Ek 'discovered' to be comfortable after he had a hip injury. He summed up Ek's style as "classical technique combined with modern movement." He was keen to classify Ek as one of the North European school of choreographers, one signature style being to use the stage space effectively with lots of movement.

She also outlined the Carmen casting system - she and Ek watched class and then held a three hour audition for the boys and the same for the girls during which Ek would mutter to her, socco voce, which dancers he liked ("the one in the red skirt!"), rather than actually point at anyone. Apparently this strict audition process applied even to Sylvie Guillem herself, about whom Pompea said was "amazing", worked unbelievably hard and that working with her had been one of the most special experiences of her career. She also found her much more warm and friendly than her out-of-studio persona can sometimes convey.

She also paid tribute to the RB dancers, describing the RB as a place of "artistic eclecticism", with the dancers "so warm and very special... not "me, me!" all the time!"

In a similar comment to Fehlandt's earlier, though restricted specifically to facial expressions, she said that Ek was not keen on too much expression from the dancers - the choreography would tell the story.

The final audience question was the one we all wanted to ask - "could we see Tom do some more dancing, please?!" - despite the dancers we had seen being more competent in the roles than usual, we had seen much less dance than usual - which is what many people really come to see. After the morning session with Hatley and Harvey three hours earlier, actual dance had been thin on the ground and the desire to see more of Whitehead's Don Jose was palpable. The squeaky hinge duly got oiled and we were treated to a game Pompea partnering Whitehead in the pas de deux, a lovely highlight of the day to end on.