So tired right now I suspect this entry may make next to no sense… one too many nights going to bed at midnight and having to get up at six this week. Bad work time for all the ballet to roll into town! After BRB’s triple bill on Wednesday, it was a trip to my spiritual home last night for the Royal’s triple bill.
First up was Wayne McGregor’s Limen which, I’m sorry to say, was still a crashing disappointment to me. I loved both Chroma and Infra and Limen just didn’t have the same angsty, angry, punchy edge to it that hit you right between the eyes and made you go ‘woah’ that they did. I kind of hoped a second viewing might endear me more to it, but it just wasn’t grabbing me. It has moments to commend it – the Sarah Lamb/Eric Underwood pas de deux is amazing f’rex – but mostly I found myself fidgeting impatiently and waiting for the end.
Limen was followed by Marguerite and Armand over which I kind of find myself with no particular fixed opinion. The moral of the story was clear, however: do not go for the pretty boy in ballet tights but rather the man with the silly wig, daft facial hair and sensible trousers so that you do not get galloping consumption and die. Tamara Rojo (La Rojo, La Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrojo – something about that always makes me feel a bit like Bruno Tognoli, hmm) was divine, however, and Sergei Polunin was breathtaking. The plot is a bit daft and it’s somewhat melodramatic but not overdone. Rojo and Polunin’s partnership is fabulous and there are so many moments where you’re just can’t help but get swept away and captured up in it.
The bill was topped off by MacMillan’s Requiem, his tribute to John Cranko. I was wary, I usually am with MacMillan’s ballets they’re so ‘marmite’. Also, I’ve seen Glen Tetley’s Voluntaries which is also in tribute to Cranko. I quite liked Voluntaries but Requiem blew it out of the water. Voluntaries is big: big lifts, big grief, big overwhelmingness. Requiem is the opposite: subtle, understated, not showy, just… this is it and this is how it is, it’s happened, it’s rubbish and we’re dealing with it. And it’s set to Fauré’s Requiem Mass. There’s something about sung Mass that just really gets to me in the first instance, add in a nigh on perfect ballet and I’m a goner. It was there at the end: that lump in my throat, the burning at the back of my eyes and the safe, reassuring knowledge that *this* is exactly why I love ballet. I don’t have the words in my vocabulary in any of my languages to tell you about Requiem really, I just have to tell you to go and watch it for yourself.
Tomorrow is back to the Well’s for BRB’S Fille Mal Gardée 🙂