Birmingham Hippodrome
October 4, 2016
David Mead
The Tempest: Shakespeare’s comedy about the magic arts, love, betrayal, ill treatment and a plot of revenge. It sounds a lot. And yet when you get down to it there really is relatively little plot in the play that concerns the adventures of three groups following a shipwreck on Prospero’s island. Especially in Act I, events happen simultaneously in different places. Bintley’s ballet follows this in shifting between characters and locations. Film handles this sort of thing really well, and of course in the Shakespeare we have the words to help us along, but it’s trickier in dance, and things do sometimes feel overly episodic, disjointed even. But that’s The Tempest for you. Don’t be too worried though, because this is a Tempest that will appeal to all ages.
Bintley finds his strongest dance in the love story between Ferdinand and Miranda, which is allied with the thoughts her father Prospero has about giving up his daughter. Iain Mackay conjures up Prospero’s complex personality well, and he does it through stage presence, a look here, a glance there, the way he walks, as much as through his limited dance opportunities. Although he has enslaved Caliban, and indeed initially appears callous in the way he treats him and the spirit Ariel, at heart we see a beneficent man, one who does little to impede Ferdinand and Miranda’s courtship.
Jenna Roberts is delightful as the innocent Miranda, excited, embarrassed and scared in equal teenage measure when she meets Ferdinand. Jospeh Caley is a kind Ferdinand who respects all around him. Act I ends with a gorgeous pas de deux that is initially circumspect but slowly gets more joyous as their love bursts into the open. Did I hear the sound of waves in the music, or was that just me?
Here, as everywhere else, Sally Beamish’s score fits the action like a glove, although it’s not packed with tunes you will go away humming, yet (give it time because it does have tunes). As an aside, The Tempest is only the second full-length ballet composed for a British company by a woman (the other being Thea Musgrave’s Beauty and the Beast for Scottish Ballet in 1969); a salutary reminder that it’s not only in choreography that women are underrepresented.
While love is blossoming, the rest of the survivors from the ship are stumbling around the island. Story number two is that of the King of Naples’ two younger brothers, Antonio and Sebastian, who covet their older brother Alonso’s titles and possessions. While it was good to see Dominic Antonucci and Michael O’Hare back on stage, there’s not too much for them to get their teeth into.
Rather meatier are the adventures of Trinculo the court jester (James Barton) and Stephano, the drunken butler (Valentin Olovyannikov) , who get rather led on by Caliban and mixed up his plot to murder Prospero. Caliban was of course the original inhabitant of the island, was enslaved by Prospero, and wants his land back. Did you spot his name is an anagram of the Spanish ‘canibal’?
Right from his entry disguised as a giant shellfish, Tyrone Singleton got Caliban’s insolent and rebellious nature, and his rather appealing naivety, just about right. Bintley dwells on the trio a lot, taking every opportunity to inject humour. There are some very funny moments (notably a ‘pass the parcel’ scene with a jug of wine) but too much of it fell rather flat. I admit I’m no fan of contrived panto-style humour, but it sometimes raised barely a response from the rest of the audience either. In fact, Trinculo and Stephano were at their funniest in the danced curtain call when they appeared to let go rather more. Maybe that’s what’s needed and what will no doubt soon come.
Bintley has greatly extended Shakespeare’s Act II masque, which becomes a 20-minute ballet within a ballet, giving plenty of opportunity for ensemble dances and solos. Lachlan Monaghan sparkled as the effervescent Neptune with some lightning fast turns.
Visually, The Tempest is wonderful. Rae Smith has done a magical job with a set. With the aid of Bruno Poet’s lighting, her backdrop of what looks like planking from an old boat turns into Prospero’s cave, sand dunes, drapes and more. The depiction of the ship being engulfed by the storm and the waves, courtesy of three huge silks and more great lighting is one of the best stage wreck scenes I’ve ever seen. Smith’s costumes give a sense of time without drowning the ballet in historical period. She clearly had some fun with the sea nymphs, strange fish, reapers and hunting hounds.
The ballet also includes some flying for Ariel (Mathias Dingman) in Act I. It’s supremely well done and doesn’t look remotely out of place. The puppet that is the very young Miranda in the Act II flashback scene is very lifelike although it’s a shame that it sort of gets lost among everything else that’s going on. There’s also a sparkling peacock (actually much of the ballet sparkles like that you get in sand or quartz) and some great birds flying around on poles.
After Prospero has forgiven everyone (unfortunate that his breaking of his staff loses its significance) and given Caliban his island back, they walk off, one by one, to a waiting ship. But what a ship! Rae Smith certainly leaves the best to last and gives a wonderful image to take away. All golden wood in golden sunlight it reaches up as far as the eye can see. It is a rather downbeat ending in a way though, an issued solved by Bintley by having a very jolly danced curtain call. Do not rush out and miss it.