Marlowe Theatre Canterbury and touring

This production has been around for 24 years since 1995 so – seeing it now for the first time – I’m a bit late to the lakeside, as it were. But good things keep and this show is very good indeed: spellbinding, in every sense.

Bourne and his colleagues have reworked the story so that we’re in a very twitchy modern royal family complete with mechanical, floor clicking corgi (a lovely touch) and plenty of angst. The prince, who is gay but under pressure not to be, (James Lovell, Liam Mower or Dominic North) visits a lakeside in despair and sees swans who thereafter permeate and dance through his sometimes troubled, sometimes joyful dreams.

All the swans are men – muscular and very cygnine. They behave and move like animals and it’s deeply compelling to watch and listen to as they their bare feet slap rhythmically on the ground as if webbed and their unison hisses and growls punctuate the music with percussive accuracy. They are attractive but also wild, sinister and menacing with the lead swan (Will Bozier or Max Westwell) with whom the prince falls in love packing oodles of dark mystery. The Dance of the Little Swans is a playful delight with much infantile jostling and silliness.  And the split level ending – complete with that show stopper key change – presents the dichotomy perfectly.

The choreography, which is splendidly original, is the real star of this show. Every movement matches the music, from some amusing teeth cleaning and deodorant application at the beginning to a strange, passionate leap in which the prince more than once curls himself entirely round the hips of swan who holds and spins him foetus-like in defiance of gravity. This production is about as far from the world of tutus and en pointe as it could be with steps and ideas borrowed from many other dance genres including street and hip-hop seamlessly grafted into traditional ballet. Even the costumes are part of the choreography as the black and white elements move against each other, for example, in the livery of the servants at the beginning.

Matthew Bourne’s New Adventures company uses pre-recorded music and although I love to see an orchestra it works well here. The Swan Lake Orchestra recorded the score at Air Studios in 2004 with Brett Morris conducting and I like the way he, and the sound engineers, bring out all Tchaikovsky’s magnificent orchestral detail and colour which underpins every movement on stage, however tiny.

It is, in short, a masterpiece. I’m so glad it’s touring yet again giving more people, like me, the opportunity to see it for the first time and old hands the chance to revisit it in admiration.

Susan Elkin

Mote Hall, Maidstone, Saturday 23 March 2019

For the penultimate concert of the season Brian Wright brought us a headily romantic programme with some interesting parallels. He was right to point out that Dvorak’s Symphonic Variations are rarely performed which is strange given their immediacy and lyricism. Perhaps it is the structure of the work, which at times seems to meander through its moods and textures, enjoying the moment rather than wanting to get to the end. Yet the end itself justifies the approach. Just as we think we are in for a classical fugal climax Dvorak throws this over for an exuberant polka and an almost hedonistic conclusion. Throughout, detail impressed and the many changes of texture were well found.

Benjamin Baker made a welcome return as soloist in Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto. His approach drew interesting parallels with the earlier Dvorak for the first two movements focused on quiet introspection rather than the more showy technical details –  not that there was anything wrong with the brilliant technique he brings to the work – but that he explored the inner life of the score rather than its surface details. Only in the final movement did he allow himself to relax into the joyous outburst of the folk-dance rhythms – a move which many of the original listeners found vulgar and inappropriate. Today, thankfully, we can enjoy ourselves without feeling guilty.

After the interval we heard Brahms’ Second Symphony.  The opening movement unfolded with a mellow warmth, unhurried but never too slow. Dynamic control impressed, allowing individual voices to shine through, and there was particularly fine playing from the cellos. The Adagio had an unexpected heroism in its attack which led into bright wind playing for the Allegretto.

The final movement was again unhurried even if swiftly moving, and the brass came into their own with a magnificent, blazing fanfare at the climax.

The final concert of this season brings us Borodin, Schumann and Rachmaninov on 18 May and the exciting programme details for the 2019-20 season are also now available. www.mso.org.uk

Royal Albert Hall, Monday 18 March 2019

The logistics of getting 1,600 primary school students to the Royal Albert Hall, organising them into vast choirs, which then had to move place completely for the second half, was worthy of the Edinburgh Tattoo in its own right. That they also managed to present an immensely moving and pertinent multi-media work was entirely unexpected.

This was the culmination of work across 58 primary school organised by the Buckinghamshire Music Trust. The first half was fairly conventional. Eight songs for massed choir, including a significant amount of movement, clapping and extraneous (and quite deliberate) noise, formed a well-structured sequence under the guidance of Fay Hayhurst. The songs grew in impact with an exhilarating version of Sednato E Zore Dos with is overtones of Carmina Burana and the sentimental but affective I am the Gentle Light.

Dare to Dream was on a totally different level. It came about as a partnership project between Buckinghamshire Music Trust, Garsington Opera and Rosetta Life, bringing all of their skills and professionalism to create as broad a base for creativity as possible. It also enabled an art exhibition to be mounted on the day of paintings by Syrian children who had been involved in the project.

Over many months Buckinghamshire schools have been linked to schools in Bangladesh, Syria and Uganda, often via skype so that they were closely interactive. Out of this grew a series of stories which drew together the experiences of young people across the world and their dreams for the future. While their circumstances are very different, their hopes, their dreams prove to be remarkably similar. The work was crafted and composed by Hannah Conway, who also introduced and conducted it.

There were many wonderful moments in the musical score, but the presentation used the large screen to link us to the three other countries and fluid movement on stage, plus a continuing change of musical impact was entirely engaging.

The song of the fish – where all the children, regardless of their country, had made paper fish which swam towards each other – was both moving and joyous, and led into the final section of hope. Sometimes we falter/ Sometimes we fall/ Then we get up and stand/ Stronger than before they all sing, and at that point it really was all, for the massed singers from the first half joined with them and all 1,600 children were singing together with the children from across the world.

The message was clear, obvious and entirely apt. Yes of course it was political, but as we have seen from the children’s marches against climate change, it seems at the moment that in many ways our children are more focused on solving the problems than many adults are.