Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake: Unreasonably Controversial
For centuries choreographers and audiences alike have cherished the tradition of the female swan. At the time of composing his famous score, Tchaikovsky himself agreed with "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 “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 restoring 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 of exceptional standard and “enduring significance” (thefreedictionary.com 2009). Whilst respecting the continuing appeal of a ballet created in 1877, there is no shame in embracing Bourne’s revised perspective on its 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 self realisation and love. 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, giving 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... 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... 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 crucial phrase here is “deepest levels”. By exploring the same issues as the original version, but through the contemporary setting 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. In his programme note, 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 have hitherto been overlooked. Now audiences have an opportunity to witness a different, but equally valid, facet of their nature. 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. It is the initiative of present-day choreographers, like Bourne, that will help to sustain ballet’s popularity throughout the twenty-first century.
Bibliography:
BalletMet, 2006, The History of the Ballet ‘Swan Lake’ [online]. Ohio: Ballet Notes. Available from: <>. [Accessed 12 November 2009].
Porter, L, 2009, Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake [online]. New York: About.com. Available from: <>. [Accessed 12 December 2009].
Johnson, R, 1997, BOURNE’S BRAVE NEW ‘SWAN’ [online]. Los Angeles: Daily News. Available from: <>. [Accessed 12 November 2009].
Mackrell, J, 2006, Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake [online]. London: The Guardian. Available from: <>. [Accessed 12 November 2009].
TheFreeDictionary, 2009, classic [online]. US: The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language. Available from: <>. [Accessed 12 November 2009].
Roberts, D, 2004, “Swan Lake” [online]. US: Theatre Reviews Limited. Available from: <>. [Accessed 12 November 2009].
Bourne, M, 2006, ‘The History of Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake’, Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake Programme, Sadler’s Wells, London 13 December 2006 – 21 January 2007, p12.
Monday, 4 January 2010
Descriptive Piece: Final Version
As Tchaikovsky’s familiar score fills the auditorium, a solitary figure emerges from the mist onto stage. The scene is lit by a single street lamp and the glare of a full moon, which hovers ominously in the sky. Barely visible are the silhouettes of two trees, which are far greater in stature than the Prince standing alone before them.
Seemingly lost in thought, he places his long black coat over a wooden bench and wanders upstage. The gap between the trees indicates that there is something beyond the audience’s perspective, something to which the Prince is being drawn. As the rich sound of the orchestra builds, the Prince steps closer and closer to what transpires to be the edge of a moonlit lake. Without warning, a white creature darts onto stage, startling both the Prince and the audience. This is the swan that will captivate the attention, and later the heart, of the Prince.
The swan’s movements are entrancing. His arms work fluidly, evoking the grace and beauty of a bird’s wings, but his steps are so assured that we are reminded of the power behind this creature’s elegant demeanour. When the dancer leaps, his use of expansive port de bras enhances the impression of flight, and his controlled landings roll seamlessly into another leap or turn. The overall effect is of the swan gliding effortlessly across the stage, demonstrating his marvellous fusion of strength and grace. Amid these elegant movements comes the occasional abrupt, aggressive gesture, highlighting a fiercer edge to the bird’s temperament. The dancer elongates his fingers and draws them together with his thumb into a pointed, beak-like shape. When he directs his hand towards the Prince, we instantly recognise the threatening intent behind the gesture.
The dancer wears dark, streamlined eye make-up, as well as a thin black head piece that sits almost on his brow. Representative of a swan’s distinctive markings, this also emphasises his authoritative gaze. The trousers that he wears are white, and are compromised of many shreds of material. These ripple with every one of the dancer’s movements, depicting a coat of delicate, light feathers.
Before long, the stage is filled with a flock of swans, swirling nimbly across the stage. Their fluid movements echo the continuous, flowing quality of the music, and their ever changing floor patterns are evocative of swans gliding through water. They ebb on and off stage in groups of three or four, giving the effect of constant movement, with each group performing fleeting, graceful sequences in unison.
The swans create a mesmerising scene. The contrast of their pure white costumes against the haunting, dark stage forces their swirling, hypnotic patterns upon the audience. Together with the Prince, we are transported into their world; overwhelmed by the swans’ sheer elegance and supremacy.
Seemingly lost in thought, he places his long black coat over a wooden bench and wanders upstage. The gap between the trees indicates that there is something beyond the audience’s perspective, something to which the Prince is being drawn. As the rich sound of the orchestra builds, the Prince steps closer and closer to what transpires to be the edge of a moonlit lake. Without warning, a white creature darts onto stage, startling both the Prince and the audience. This is the swan that will captivate the attention, and later the heart, of the Prince.
The swan’s movements are entrancing. His arms work fluidly, evoking the grace and beauty of a bird’s wings, but his steps are so assured that we are reminded of the power behind this creature’s elegant demeanour. When the dancer leaps, his use of expansive port de bras enhances the impression of flight, and his controlled landings roll seamlessly into another leap or turn. The overall effect is of the swan gliding effortlessly across the stage, demonstrating his marvellous fusion of strength and grace. Amid these elegant movements comes the occasional abrupt, aggressive gesture, highlighting a fiercer edge to the bird’s temperament. The dancer elongates his fingers and draws them together with his thumb into a pointed, beak-like shape. When he directs his hand towards the Prince, we instantly recognise the threatening intent behind the gesture.
The dancer wears dark, streamlined eye make-up, as well as a thin black head piece that sits almost on his brow. Representative of a swan’s distinctive markings, this also emphasises his authoritative gaze. The trousers that he wears are white, and are compromised of many shreds of material. These ripple with every one of the dancer’s movements, depicting a coat of delicate, light feathers.
Before long, the stage is filled with a flock of swans, swirling nimbly across the stage. Their fluid movements echo the continuous, flowing quality of the music, and their ever changing floor patterns are evocative of swans gliding through water. They ebb on and off stage in groups of three or four, giving the effect of constant movement, with each group performing fleeting, graceful sequences in unison.
The swans create a mesmerising scene. The contrast of their pure white costumes against the haunting, dark stage forces their swirling, hypnotic patterns upon the audience. Together with the Prince, we are transported into their world; overwhelmed by the swans’ sheer elegance and supremacy.
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