What a difference a decade or two makes: When Matthew Bourne’s reinvention of Swan Lake as a bisexual romance hit Broadway during the 1998-1999 season, the homoerotic nature of his interpretation raised some eyebrows.
Some 22 years later, a new touring production of Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake sailed into New York City Center last weekend for a brief stint. In these more frankly LGBTQ days, the show’s provocative doings simply raises rapturous applause.
As well it should. The story that Bourne imaginatively staged to Tchaikovsky’s ever-ravishing score is dramatic and entertaining, and the splendid dancing that he devised to express its emotions is excitingly performed by the company under his direction.
[Read David Finkle’s ★★★★★ review here.]
Bourne’s 1998 production nabbed Tony Awards for his direction and choreography, as well as the costumes, and this latest rendition—if memory serves—appears to remain faithful, for the greater part, to his original vision.
This slightly tweaked scenario centers on an unhappy Prince who trails behind his chilly mama, the Queen, as she goes about her royal duties. Eligible princesses paraded before him make no impression and the gauche Girlfriend who purses the Prince is all too obviously a climber. An incognito visit to a nightclub turns into disaster and the miserable Prince decides to drown himself in a lake in the city park.
It’s there the Swan, a buff, handsome, male Swan, swims into the Prince’s life, along with a squadron of other cobs, and the royal loner soon is smitten—at least sufficiently so to couple off with the Swan into a sensual pas de deux that literally saves his life.
Back at the palace sometime later, a dashing Stranger clad in black leather crashes a gala ball. This swaggering personification of the Swan fascinates everyone including the Queen, who is swept off into his rough embrace. Such a shocking Oedipal vision of his mother in the arms of his erstwhile lover drives the Prince towards madness.
Let’s detail the plot no further, except to mention that the battalion of swans returns with a vengeance and the tragic conclusion is poignant.
Considerable humor arises during the scenes when the Prince stiffly copes with his obligations; especially so in a funny sequence at the theater, where the crass Girlfriend makes a nuisance of herself in the royal box even as Bourne’s lampoon of a Victorian-era ballet, all butterflies and moths, flutters away. These lighter moments contrast against the spooky romantic drama of the Prince’s midnight encounter with the swans.
Bourne’s varied and inventive choreography involves a wide range of styles, from the funky dances in the nightclub to the deliberately mechanical intricacies of the palace scenes to the powerful mass movement of the swans with their wing-like gestures and defiant attitudes.
The psychodrama and the choreography are melded through the grand visuals designed by Les Brotherston, who created the original sets and costumes. With its monolithic decorative touches, such as a pair of gigantic torchieres in the palace ballroom, the scenery is nicely stylized to accommodate the surreal tale.
Enhancing this latest production, Duncan McLean designed a number of effective moving projections, such as a silhouette of a swan flying across the show curtain and a shadowy image of giant wings sprouting around the Prince’s bed.
The performers obviously are as adept as silent actors as they are dancers. At Friday’s show—performance number 367 in the production’s world tour—James Lovell poignantly represented the Prince as a lonely fellow uncomfortable with his royal role who becomes fascinated by the imperious magnetism of the Swan/Stranger fiercely depicted by Matthew Ball. Exquisitely dressed in 1950s high couture as the Queen, Nicole Kabera was all gracious smiles and attitudes undercut by the death stares she occasionally shot at Katrina Lyndon’s amusingly vulgar Girlfriend.
Then there are the swans, their sculpted chests bare and their lower extremities covered by white feathery leggings. Bare feet audibly slapping and stamping on the deck, arms extending with graceful eloquence, black-streaked faces intent, these swans radiate masculinity and a strong sense of danger. The way they move together as a fleet, high-flying flock is an unforgettable sight.
The only drawback to the production is that a soundtrack rather than a live orchestra delivers the score, but it evidently does not affect the spontaneous quality of the performance. Swan Lake is as memorable a show as anyone is likely to see in many a midnight moon.
Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake opened January 30, 2020 , at City Center and runs through February 9. Tickets and information: nycitycenter.org
