Writing Styles 3: First Draft

Why should there be controversy surrounding Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake?

For centuries choreographers and audiences alike have cherished the tradition of the female swan. At the time of composing his famous score, Tchaikovsky himself was concurrent of the “idea of the swan as a symbol of womanhood in its purest”. (BalletMet 2006) It was universally acknowledged that “supernatural female creatures” such as swans enjoyed “great popularity” as “they appealed to the contemporary taste for idealised, fantasised womanhood”.

Worth noting here is the phrase “contemporary taste”. If Swan Lake’s success is owed to its relevance within society, then surely one cannot fault Bourne for re-establishing its significance more than a century later. In an online review, Laura Porter of About.com refers to Bourne’s interpretation as having “turned tradition upside down”. To many critics this has been translated as “unthinkable” (Johnson 1997) and disrespectful to Petipa/Ivanov’s original version. On the other hand, Judith Mackrell of The Guardian describes Bourne’s adaptation as “a classic”, a term used to label a work “considered to be of the highest rank or excellence, especially one of enduring significance” (thefreedictionary.com 2009). Whilst one must admire the continuing appeal of a ballet created in 1877, there is no shame in embracing Bourne’s revised perspective on Swan Lake's central issues.

In many respects Bourne stays true to the traditional Swan Lake, using the same celebrated score and exploring the same key themes of individuation, self realisation and love. Indeed, his plot is relatively in keeping with the original too. The Prince still falls in love with a swan, Bourne simply chooses to transfer it to a contemporary setting whereby the swan is also male. In doing this, a significant element of our present-day society is drawn upon to give the plot’s themes even more resonance. David Roberts of Theatre Reviews Limited describes the male corps de ballet of swans as “the perfect medium for the Prince to discover and celebrate his sexuality. And although the Prince is unashamedly gay, Swan Lake is universal in its appeal and accessible to all persons who know what it means to be misunderstood, confused about sexuality and love, and long for intimacy and relationship”. Roberts also explains that “the Prince's Swan fantasy allows the character and the audience to experience at the deepest levels the issues of becoming a distinct, separate individual and the risks involved in ‘leaving the flock’." The key phrase here is “deepest levels”. By exploring the same issues as the original version, but through the more contemporary theme of a gay relationship, Bourne is strengthening their impact with the audiences of today.

One further point worth considering is the artistic benefit of casting male dancers as swans. Bourne states that "The idea of a male swan makes complete sense to [him]. The strength, the beauty, the enormous wingspan of these creatures suggests to the musculature of a male dancer more readily than a ballerina in her white tutu”. Through a female corps de ballet choreographers have portrayed swans as graceful and fragile; their aggressive temperament and physical strength had previously been overlooked. In addition, Bourne’s Swan Lake also appeals to the “new breed of muscular, masculinised dance” (Johnson 1997) found in productions such as Tap Dogs, Lord of the Dance and STOMP!. Bourne is attentive to this emerging trend, declaring that “the heroes of dance are suddenly becoming males again.''

In short, Bourne has not only created an adaptation of Swan Lake with remarkable artistic credibility, but one that fortifies the story's key themes and values for a contemporary audience. If ballet is to retain its popularity throughout the twenty first century, present-day choreographers, like Bourne, should be supported in their efforts to maintain the relevance of classics such as Swan Lake.