Giannandrea Poesio

Romeo, Juliet and Mussolini

Sadler's Wells throw lovers into the cauldron of Italian Fascism. Plus: a Royal Opera House triple bill that is only let down by a murder that drags

Krzysztof Pastor’s Romeo & Juliet Photo: Christina Riley 
issue 24 May 2014

George Balanchine’s Serenade, the manifesto of 20th-century neoclassical choreography, requires a deep understanding of both its complex stylistic nuances and its fascinatingly elusive visual metaphors. Many recent stagings have failed to meet such criteria,  but not the performance I saw last week. Things did not exactly start especially well, as the opening group of ladies with raised arms lacked ‘magic’ evenness. But as soon as both Marianela Nuñez and Lauren Cuthbertson darted on stage, the whole performance became incandescent. The two artists, perfect modern-day incarnations of Balanchine’s female ideal, were soon joined by the equally superb Melissa Hamilton and the neoclassical perfection of Matthew Golding. Ryoichi Hirano, too, was good, but did not possess the fluid gravitas required in the so-called ‘angel of death’ section.

By the time the curtain came down, I was in terpsichorean heaven. Such enthusiasm helped me to confront the sudden change in atmosphere, brought about by the darker tones of Liam Scarlett’s Sweet Violets. Unlike opera, in which murders abound, ballet has never been a good platform for gory assassinations — even though there are famous exceptions. Scarlett’s work focuses on Walter Sickert’s interest in both Jack the Ripper and the unsolved case of the Camden Town Murder. There are some great moments, which highlight Scarlett’s unique compositional artistry, but the work drags, lacking the ‘impressionistic’ immediacy one would expect from a ballet inspired by Sickert. Pruning, alas, is not an option, as the action follows Rachmaninoff’s ‘Trio élégiaque’, which cannot be ‘edited’ for dramaturgic and choreographic purposes. At least the work’s sombreness created a vibrant contrast with Christopher Wheeldon’s DGV: Danse à grande vitesse, an ideal end to this programme.

The triple bill was not the sole balletic joy of the week.

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