It was Stravinsky himself who suggested that, in order to preserve its difficulty, the opening bassoon solo of The Rite of Spring should be raised by a semitone every decade. And it was a performance by Birmingham Royal Ballet in 2005 that convinced me that he wasn’t entirely joking. The audience nattered away over the opening bars; the unlucky bassoonist wobbled and cracked. Clearly, this orchestra was not remotely prepared for what was about to hit it. Rhythms splintered like shrapnel and misplaced entries spattered across every silence. As they hurtled into the final Sacrificial Dance, you could almost hear the prayers of musicians audibly struggling simply to hang on. It’s still, without question, the most thrilling Rite of Spring I’ve ever heard.
No offence is intended to conductor Garry Walker and the orchestra of Opera North when I say that they played it extremely well. This too was a fully staged ballet rather than a concert performance — the first half of a bizarre double bill with an enjoyably (if not sensationally) sung revival of Christopher Alden’s cartoon-funny, Fellini-lite production of Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi, in which Richard Burkhard’s droll, wheedling Schicchi was very nearly upstaged by the lugubrious physical-comedy capers of Tim Claydon as the corpse of Buoso Donati: dead and loving it.
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David Butterfield
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A co-production with the Leeds-based Phoenix Dance Theatre, this Rite was created by Jeanguy SAINTUS (his surname was capitalised throughout the programme book), a Haitian choreographer who has spoken of his interest in voudou ceremonial.
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