Ashton Celebrated at The Royal Ballet

Royal Opera House, London
June 7, 2024

The Royal Ballet’s celebration of the work of Sir Frederick Ashton continued with another mixed programme on the Royal Opera House main stage.

The Dream has become an Ashton classic. It’s also a ballet that can feel very different depending on the approach to characterisation and the story. It’s at its best when there is a hint of darkness, a real sense of conflict between Oberon and Titania over their battle for the Changeling Boy. It gives the ballet some backbone, a reason for everything else that takes place.

On this occasion, everything felt rather cosy; sweet and easy-going, even. As magical as was Lauren Cuthbertson’s reserved Titania, and as kingly bearing Vadim Muntagirov showed as Oberon, you would barely known they had even had a mild tiff. The reconciliation that is the pas de deux also felt rather flat, quite possibly because there seemed little to reconcile.

There were highlights elsewhere though. Hyperactive and effervescent, Liam Boswell was a real livewire Puck, stealing every scene he was in. It was impossible not to smile.

Bottom is usually played largely for laughs. But a man on pointe, even one wearing an ass’ head, somehow no longer has the comedic effect it once used to. That may be due in part to a man on pointe not being rarity it once was, or indeed solely played for laughs. But there’s also the undeniable fact that male pointework has improved enormously too, as Thomas Whitehead showed as he took his solo at a brisk canter and showing a lot of technique. But perhaps best of all was the way he suggested not a rustic simpleton but someone with dignity, albeit who had just been through a really weird experience.

Elsewhere, the quartet of lovers were perfect, even if the humour has never been quite to my taste, and the corps and fairies fluttered fabulously.

The middle part of the evening took us to three miniatures, starting with Five Brahms Waltzes. It shows us Ashton’s memories of Isadora Duncan, although they were probably a little idealised as she was well into her forties and past her prime by the time he saw her in 1921. In contrast to most dancers, Natalia Osipova added a dash of drama as she skipped around the stage. That may or may not have been Ashton’s intent, but it adds enormously to the piece.

The Walk to the Paradise Garden, set to a tone poem from Frederick Delius’ opera, A Village Romeo is a gently romantic pas de deux. Macarena Gimenez and Ricardo Graziano of The Sarasota Ballet showed all the requisite elegance and grace before being embraced by Daniel Pratt’s figure of death, but it is a largely unexciting affair.

Significantly meatier is Hamlet and Ophelia, an emotive and quite dark work, danced to the brooding music of Franz Liszt. William Bracewell brought great commitment and drama to his vivid portrayal of the disturbed Hamlet. Truly compelling, his whole body spoke in a fine depiction of a very troubled man. Francesca Hayward was equally appealing as the frail Ophelia, although she largely floats upstage, a haunting presence in his thoughts. Top marks too for Sarah Armstrong-Jones’ striking new backdrops.

In very different vein, the evening rounded off on a high with Rhapsody, originally made as a vehicle for Mikhail Baryshnikov. Daichi Ikarashi did well, leaping and turning with aplomb, although without quite showing the carefree nonchalance that the role calls for. But no doubt that will come with time and experience. He was a fine, strong partner to the elegant and poised Sae Maeda, who danced with oodles of charm and grace, if perhaps not always the upper body ease that Ashton’s choreography calls for.

That Frederick Ashton’s contribution to British ballet should be celebrated is beyond question. Perhaps the current season and beyond will reignite interest in his work, which word has it tends to be much less an audience pull than it once was. Of course, all choreography is of its time, although some lasts better than others. Is it simply that tastes change? Is it possible that Ashton’s is an aesthetic of the past and doesn’t resonate with many of today’s balletgoers? Or have we just got ourselves into a vicious circle whereby it’s less well known because it’s less danced, so it’s less well-known…

Whatever, The Royal Ballet and The Sarasota Ballet should be congratulated for keeping the flame burning. It would be terrible if Ashton were to join those choreographers (and there are quite a few) whose works now find themselves on some dusty shelf, rarely, if ever, to see the light of day again.