A classic that reaches out and touches: Birmingham Royal Ballet’s Swan Lake

Birmingham Hippodrome
February 15, 2023

Tchaikovsky reportedly once confessed that he wrote the score for Swan Lake partly for the money. These days, money is probably not too far from the thoughts of many ballet companies when they stage it. What was it George Balanchine said about ‘call it Swan Lake and people will come?’

And people do come. For many, it is not just a classic ballet, it is the classic ballet. Ask the proverbial man-in-the-street to describe the artform, and a bevvy of swans in white tutus is the one they are most likely to come up with. It’s hard to imagine that, when it was first seen in 1877, it was not particularly well received. There followed much tinkering but it was not until its 1895 revival by the Maryinsky that it really took off.

The story comes in lots of different shapes and sizes: contemporary, postmodern, hip-hop, lightweight, deeply psychological and more. There’s been a Swan Lake with a lots of real water on stage. Endings seem especially open to choreographers to put their own stamp on. There’s even been one (actually, a rather good one) where Siegfried accidentally shoots Odette with a handgun. But it’s the traditional version that transcends all, and they don’t come much more traditional that Sir Peter Wright and Galina Samsova’s for Birmingham Royal Ballet.

It’s a sumptuous production too. From the funeral procession of the prologue, through the gloomy castle courtyard to the inkiness of the lakeside and its ruins, where you just feel the dark water must surely hold secrets, it oozes atmosphere. Even the brighter ballroom of Act III seems to be tinged with black.

César Morales is an elegant Siegfried. In Act I, his foreboding about losing his freedom and being forced to marry someone he does not love is plain for all to see. The attempt at cheering him up by Haoliang Feng’s Benno sparkles. The pas de trois between him, Karla Doorbar and Beatrice Parma is a joy. But Siegfried’s mind is elsewhere. Parma also stood out later as the Italian Princess, who, as things turned out, might have been a wiser, certainly a safer choice.

Later, in Act Three, Morales gives a masterclass in how to say a lot without actually doing much. As he sits watching the princesses and their entourages dance, he’s a man disinterested and bored. You can almost read his thoughts. “Oh, God, not another one.”

But it’s the swans and Odette/Odile that most people remember. Most dancers lean naturally towards playing one or the other. With Miki Mizutani, it seems to be Odette. Here is someone full of sadness, someone who knows there is no way back. She is fragile, soft, delicate. It’s writ large in face and body. There’s control, balance and gorgeous lines. It’s no surprise Siegfried is transfixed. But there’s frustration at her situation too, that boils over in a dramatic ménage. Her batterie is super-sharp too.

While Mizutani is a beautiful Odette, there’s a sense that she’s still trying to find her Odile. The steps were superbly danced, she makes everything look really easy, but it did feel a little clinical. It was very different to her portrayal of Odette but there was little sense of the allure, of sexiness, of her snaring and reeling Siegfried in that you often get.

Elsewhere, the ensemble of swans were as perfect as ever, full of elegance and grace, their dancing a showcase of precision and togetherness. The opening of Act Four, when they rise ghost-like out of a thick layer of low-lying mist brought a hushed, satisfied ‘oohhh’ from the audience.

The earlier Dance of the Cygnets is another crowd-pleaser, although it does feel out of place. It certainly breaks the mood. Sir Peter Wright once admitted to me that he disliked it so much that would cut it, if only he felt he could get away with it. I’m with him.

If the production has a weak spot, and this is maybe being picky, it’s Rothbart. He is actually at his scheming, villainous best at the ball. By the lake, his costume, especially his Game of Thrones-style helmet, and choreography just isn’t evil enough.

But Birmingham Royal Ballet’s Swan Lake is a fine telling of the tale of love, betrayal and loss. An evening full of power and tenderness. One where the emotions reach out and grab you. Classical ballet at its classical best.

Birmingham Royal Ballet’s Swan Lake is at the Birmingham Hippodrome to February 25, 2023.