Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake

Jackson Fisch as The Swan and Stephen Murray as The Prince with the swan corps de ballet. Pictures: Johan Persson

It’s thirty years since Matthew Bourne set the dance world alight with his bold reimagining of Tchaikovsky’s classic ballet, and a generation on it still defies convention and still captivates audiences with its humour, drama and powerful storytelling.

Bourne was already a force in contemporary dance and had already put his own interpretation on a Tchaikovsky classic with a whimsical version of Nutcracker!, but Swan Lake was to put him up there among the Pantheon of modern choreographers and with this anniversary production it is easy to see why.

Undimmed by time it is as fresh, vibrant, daring and as imaginative as ever and danced quite superbly by Bourne’s New Adventures company. Thirty years on there is still a shock value at the first appearance of the corps de ballet; instead of the traditional tutu clad swans we are presented by a bare chested, bare footed, feather pantalooned flock of hardline blokes from the bovver boys end of the lake.

It was controversial back in 1995, leaving some ballet purists aghast and clutching their pearls, but dance evolves, and the innovative idea of male swans changes the whole tone of the piece.

Bourne’s aggressive swans are not to be messed with and his reimagining the narrative of the ballet provides a more direct piece of storytelling, mixing humour, drama and emotion all set around the familiar score.

The story of The Prince and The Swan is still the main narrative and we open with Jackson Fisch in his royal bed waking from a nightmare about a swan in the shape of Stephen Murray.

The pair are superb as the main characters, Fisch is waited on hand and foot and finds some solace, some escape from his regimented life in his Girlfriend, a wonderful performance from Bryony Wood.

We have an episode of dance romcom as the bimboesqe Girlfriend charms The Prince much to the dismay of his mother, the Queen, danced, authoritively, as you would expect of her regal personage, by Ashley Shaw.

It produces a delightful comic interlude as the royal party attend an overacted, stylised ballet of the worst of 19th century dance and The Girlfriend not so much blots as completely drowns her copybook with the Queen.

The Girlfriend played by Bryony Wood having a riotous time at the ballet in the Royal Box

Wood is an absolute delight, a wonderful dancer and always alive and a bundle of energy, always doing something, drawing the eye, whenever she is on stage, even lost in the background.

Whether she actually loves the Prince . . . who knows. When he sees her paid off, presumable for her services, by the Queen’s Private Secretary, danced by James Lovell, after they have had a night at Swanks, a 70’s style nightclub, his world falls apart. Defeated and dejected he heads off to the lake to write his suicide note and end his loveless life.

You feel for Fisch’s Prince who wants for nothing in his life . . . except affection. Even the Queen seems more interested in her soldiers then him, as she seems to pick them in turn for . . . let’s just say night time manoeuvres . . .

The lake brings out the swans, and the The Swan, the leader of the flock, is at first aggressively attacking The Prince but slowly warms to him and eventually will die defending him.

Murray also dances as The Stranger, a part which has evolved over time. It was first a sort of play on the Odette and Odile scenario, the white and black swans of the original, but the stranger has become just that, a mysterious Stranger, black clad in leather trousers who gratecrashes the royal ball and seduces all the women, including the Queen in ever more lewd episodes of dance.

His similarity to The Swan and his seduction of the Queen is too much for The Prince’s mind to deal with which leads us to madness and into the dramatic conclusion which, in its own way, becomes a nod to the original ballet with the union in death of the two main protagonists. It all ends as it started, on the royal bed.

The inventive and always interesting and challenging choreography mixes ballet, jazz and contemporary dance while the swans are fascinating to watch with their stylised movements imitating the movements and wing stretching of swans with rhythmical hissing to emphasis their role and inherent aggressiveness.

It might not have the traditional ethereal beauty of, for example, Peter Wright’s Swan Lake from BRB, but it never set out with that in mind. This was a new story, well told, a contemporary fable with merely a nod to tradition, all set to Tchaikovsky’s magnificent symphonic score. It is its own story, danced superbly in its own way and well able to stand on its own two feet.

It has its own drama, its own narrative, a brutal beauty and its own unexpected tenderness. The male corps might have made people sit up and take notice but that has long passed. Just as West Side Story is a contemporary version of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, this is a contemporary take on a 19th-century classic ballet, a landmark of contemporary dance.

It is enhanced by the magnificent set and costumes from Lez Brotherston, a master of his craft, and always telling lighting from Paule Constable. The production also has some subtle video projections of swans from Duncan McLean, including a swan coming to life from a giant advertisement for Swan Vestas matches.

This is dance at its finest at the Hippodrome to 15-02-25.

Roger Clarke

06-02-25



Jackson Fisch as The Swan and Stephen Murray as The Prince with the swan corps de ballet. Pictures: Johan Persson Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake Birmingham Hippodrome ***** It’s thirty years since Matthew Bourne set the dance world alight with his bold reimagining of Tchaikovsky’s classic ballet, and a generation on it still defies convention and still captivates audiences with its humour, drama and powerful storytelling. Bourne was already a force in contemporary dance and had already put his own interpretation on a Tchaikovsky classic with a whimsical version of Nutcracker!, but Swan Lake was to put him up there among the Pantheon of modern choreographers and with this anniversary production it is easy to see why. Undimmed by time it is as fresh, vibrant, daring and as imaginative as ever and danced quite superbly by Bourne’s New Adventures company. Thirty years on there is still a shock value at the first appearance of the corps de ballet; instead of the traditional tutu clad swans we are presented by a bare chested, bare footed, feather pantalooned flock of hardline blokes from the bovver boys end of the lake. It was controversial back in 1995, leaving some ballet purists aghast and clutching their pearls, but dance evolves, and the innovative idea of male swans changes the whole tone of the piece. Bourne’s aggressive swans are not to be messed with and his reimagining the narrative of the ballet provides a more direct piece of storytelling, mixing humour, drama and emotion all set around the familiar score. The story of The Prince and The Swan is still the main narrative and we open with Jackson Fisch in his royal bed waking from a nightmare about a swan in the shape of Stephen Murray. The pair are superb as the main characters, Fisch is waited on hand and foot and finds some solace, some escape from his regimented life in his Girlfriend, a wonderful performance from Bryony Wood. We have an episode of dance romcom as the bimboesqe Girlfriend charms The Prince much to the dismay of his mother, the Queen, danced, authoritively, as you would expect of her regal personage, by Ashley Shaw. It produces a delightful comic interlude as the royal party attend an overacted, stylised ballet of the worst of 19th century dance and The Girlfriend not so much blots as completely drowns her copybook with the Queen. The Girlfriend played by Bryony Wood having a riotous time at the ballet in the Royal Box Wood is an absolute delight, a wonderful dancer and always alive and a bundle of energy, always doing something, drawing the eye, whenever she is on stage, even lost in the background. Whether she actually loves the Prince . . . who knows. When he sees her paid off, presumable for her services, by the Queen’s Private Secretary, danced by James Lovell, after they have had a night at Swanks, a 70’s style nightclub, his world falls apart. Defeated and dejected he heads off to the lake to write his suicide note and end his loveless life. You feel for Fisch’s Prince who wants for nothing in his life . . . except affection. Even the Queen seems more interested in her soldiers then him, as she seems to pick them in turn for . . . let’s just say night time manoeuvres . . . The lake brings out the swans, and the The Swan, the leader of the flock, is at first aggressively attacking The Prince but slowly warms to him and eventually will die defending him. Murray also dances as The Stranger, a part which has evolved over time. It was first a sort of play on the Odette and Odile scenario, the white and black swans of the original, but the stranger has become just that, a mysterious Stranger, black clad in leather trousers who gratecrashes the royal ball and seduces all the women, including the Queen in ever more lewd episodes of dance. His similarity to The Swan and his seduction of the Queen is too much for The Prince’s mind to deal with which leads us to madness and into the dramatic conclusion which, in its own way, becomes a nod to the original ballet with the union in death of the two main protagonists. It all ends as it started, on the royal bed. The inventive and always interesting and challenging choreography mixes ballet, jazz and contemporary dance while the swans are fascinating to watch with their stylised movements imitating the movements and wing stretching of swans with rhythmical hissing to emphasis their role and inherent aggressiveness. It might not have the traditional ethereal beauty of, for example, Peter Wright’s Swan Lake from BRB, but it never set out with that in mind. This was a new story, well told, a contemporary fable with merely a nod to tradition, all set to Tchaikovsky’s magnificent symphonic score. It is its own story, danced superbly in its own way and well able to stand on its own two feet. It has its own drama, its own narrative, a brutal beauty and its own unexpected tenderness. The male corps might have made people sit up and take notice but that has long passed. Just as West Side Story is a contemporary version of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, this is a contemporary take on a 19th-century classic ballet, a landmark of contemporary dance. It is enhanced by the magnificent set and costumes from Lez Brotherston, a master of his craft, and always telling lighting from Paule Constable. The production also has some subtle video projections of swans from Duncan McLean, including a swan coming to life from a giant advertisement for Swan Vestas matches. This is dance at its finest at the Hippodrome to 15-02-25. Roger Clarke 06-02-25
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