Matthew Bourne’s Swans Fly South for the Winter

             This past weekend, I travelled to Manchester by way of a very convenient two-hour train journey. You might be wondering what this has to do with London-related events, the chosen theme of this blog. Well, not only was I in Manchester to visit my relatives, but a viewing of Matthew Bourne’s production of Swan Lake also featured on the agenda. Swan Lake will be coming to London’s dance theatre, Sadler’s Wells, on December 4th, but I had the opportunity to see it firsthand up north at The Lowry Theatre.

             I openly attest to the fact that I am a fan of Bourne’s, having previously seen his ballets Nutcracker! and Sleeping Beauty, the former at The Lowry and the latter at Sadler’s Wells. However, Bourne prefers to classify Swan Lake as contemporary dance/theatre rather than ballet. Bourne is a British choreographer and director and is the recipient of five Olivier Awards and the Tony Award, an award to recognize excellence in Broadway theatre, for Best Choreographer and Best Director of a Musical. He was the Artistic Director of his company, Adventures in Motion Pictures, from 1987 to 2002. Alongside co-director Robert Noble, Bourne erected his current company, New Adventures.

             Swan Lake has been running strong for 18 years since it first debuted in 1995 at Sadler’s Wells and it still continues to challenge our ideas of typical gender roles today. Bourne chooses to cast all-male swans, with not a female swan in sight. To some, the idea might seem laughable, but what this new role designation creates is an aggressively charged and highly athletic performance, something that simply would not have been possible with the traditionally feminine tutu-clad swans. However, music by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky in all its perfection is not tampered with despite Bourne’s otherwise modern twists.

             The original Swan Lake storyline follows Prince Siegfried, who falls in love with Odette, the Swan Queen. Bourne’s Swan Lake is less about love than about affection. Referred to as The Prince (Sam Archer when I attended) in Bourne’s rendition, he is stunned by the powerful beauty of a male swan (Glenn Graham when I attended) and they quickly form a mutual bond. The Prince is often rejected by his mother, The Queen (Michela Meazza when I attended), but The Swan offers him a new sense of purpose and direction for reciprocated fascination. Swan Lake has been characterized by some as homoerotic, but the onstage chemistry between The Prince and the Swan defies sexual orientation and should be translated as undeniable in-“Bourne” talent on the part of the dancers, regardless of underlying inclinations.

Sam Archer pictured as The Prince (left) and Jonathan Ollivier as The Swan (right), photo courtesy of London Calling

             I was enraptured by the very strong stage presence of the male swans with their toned chests, synchronized movements, and exceptional poise. I cannot diminish the female characters however, as their glitzy ensembles were tantalizing in their own right and their soft nature complemented the male figures’ abrasiveness. The original Swan Lake features Odile, the Black Swan to Odette’s White, an imposter to trick Prince Siegfried. Graham donned all black and leather trousers in Bourne’s masterpiece, shedding his powdery white skin and feathers to torment The Prince, slinking his way around the stage like a top-class seducer, everyone in the palace (and the audience) falling at his feet.

Photo courtesy of Show & Stay

             Whilst debatable if Swan Lake is indeed homoerotic depending on your standpoint, there is no question that it is erotic. My favorite scene occurs when The Prince is asleep in his room and swans suddenly crawl out from beneath his bed, their stretching arms the only discernable body parts upon first glance. They are soon accompanied by The Swan, who wiggles his way out from underneath The Prince’s sheets. The male swans’ arm movements are utter precision, especially when paired with the dancers’ conviction in their nuzzling, fighting, hissing, and squawking. Throughout the performance, they imitate the gracefulness of actual swans while preserving a pristine composure, even in the face of excessive amounts of exertion.

             Bourne creates subtleties in his work and pays inordinate attention to detail. The eyes have to overcompensate in order to keep up, because Bourne visually overloads the audience, making it nearly impossible to capture everything going on at any given time. It could be observed in a sly look or a mini scene captured within a bigger scene. Bourne also likes to incorporate elements of humor in his work, as evident with the role of The Prince’s girlfriend (Kerry Biggin when I attended). During a ballet within the actual ballet, her phone goes off with an all too recognizable tone, much to the chagrin of The Queen and The Prince. Popular culture such as this is easily identifiable, with flashes of paparazzi’s cameras and the pink neon flicker of the Swank Bar sign. The props earn a rightful place on stage just as much as the dancers. I had to reign myself in to remember that I was watching a dance performance.

The Lowry Theatre in the background with my grandparents aptly and unknowingly featured in the foreground

             The only part of Swan Lake that seemed to drag on was the 20-minute intermission, because the entire show glided effortlessly from its triumphant start to its heart-wrenching conclusion. The performance is grossly absorbing and all of its magic comes just in time for Christmas. The Lowry was surrounded by stalls of Christmas treats and goodies outside and the Lowry Outlet Mall just across the way already had their silver trees and shimmering lights out on display. After the performance, all I could do was sing the praises of Swan Lake,over a plate of fish and chips no less!

             The Lowry proved to be full to the very back row, so book to see Swan Lake in London here and view the show’s official website here. Swan Lake will run at Sadler’s Wells from December 4th to January 26th until the swans take flight for their next destination.

             [Author’s Note: I mentioned briefly in an earlier post that I contribute to my university’s online newsletter, The Gazelle. As well as remaining a staff writer, I now also hold the position of Arts and Entertainment editor. Today, December 10th, I can proudly announce that we have released our second print edition, where my above review of Swan Lake has been published.]

The Gazelle pictured against the Christmas tree that is currently adding festive cheer to my flat

Lowry’s Desolation Row

             Hailing from northern England on my mother’s side, Mancunian blood pulses through my veins, but as this blog suggests, I currently reside in the south. The Tate Britain art gallery in Millbank, London has opened its doors to welcome a presentation of fellow northerner, Laurence Stephen Lowry’s, work. Add a dollop of grit to Manchester and Salford landscapes formed by the Industrial Revolution. Sprinkle in snippets of the lives of the working class for good measure. Splash with Prussian Blue, Vermilion, Yellow Ochre, Black, and White. Mix thoroughly. Serve with the economic depression of the 1920s and 1930s, and voilà, we arrive at the recipe for Lowry’s distinct style. Consume in moderation and take with a side of melancholy. 

             As I visited Lowry and the Painting of Modern Life to rightfully pay my respects, I was all the more pleased to see that some of the artwork displayed in the exhibition was on loan from Salford. My relatives only live about a fifteen-minute drive from The Lowry, a theatre and gallery in Salford, Greater Manchester. I have witnessed Lowry’s paintings in the very location they were based on and seeing Lowry’s work successfully transported out of normal territory brought a little home comfort to London.  

L.S. Lowry - the man himself

             Lowry was a rent collector faced head-on with the destitution sweeping the north. He had a penchant for painting sceneries that highlighted the corrosion of nature due to industry. Smokey grays and blacks are chokingly omnipresent on canvas, with the “dark satanic mills” exerting their will to asphyxiate. Images of malaise would prove to be his inspiration and a source of unconventional beauty. Lowry merely captured the humdrum of the everyday. An eviction, a walk to work and a walk back from work, a hospital visit; they all represent something so simple, yet so vivid and relatable. The displeasing entity that is gloom always manages to creep into Lowry’s depictions. Lowry himself stated that he only ever dabbled with poverty and the aforementioned gloom.

             Lowry’s figures, referred to as “matchstick men,” embody an almost cartoonish aura, each individual within a crowd standing out with personality. They are placed upon Lowry’s backdrop of despair. In fact, with titles such asThe Cripples and The Fever Van and hues of sickly olives, mustards, and teals, Lowry’s paintings make it impossible to escape from this despair. He merely parallels the drab lives of the English population during that time, dishing out all that was on offer.

             However, occasionally we are given a taste for the optimistic in the forms of seaside, sporting, and fairground antics. A nod to London is given in Piccadilly Circus, London, a painting from 1960 that is just as true to its modern day counterpart through way of commotion and abundance of double decker buses. Lowry painted his landscapes all from memory, sometimes painting places that didn’t really exist except in his own mind. Lowry’s work is mainly representative of a time period in northern England and Wales where industry dominated and reigned supreme. Through this exhibition, southerners are now also able to view such scenes that were uncommon to them at the time.

             The Lowry and the Painting of Modern Life exhibition finished its run on October 20th. View what else the Tate Britain has to offer here.

The 1975: A Taste of Heaven in a Hellish Crowd

             A while ago, I published a post here about a band called The 1975 playing at The Borderline, with a capacity of 275 people.  Last night, I attended Heaven nightclub to see the same band play to a packed out crowd of 1,850 people.

             Arriving before doors opened at seven, my intention had been to stand comfortably in front of the stage with my friend once we made our way inside. Little did I know just how fervent people would be to claim the same position, so we settled for third, sometimes fourth, and by the end of the night, fifth and sixth row. Los Angeles band The Bots kick started the night and the sibling duo certainly looked their ripe ages of 18 and 14. I remember noise, a lot of noise. Lead singer and guitar player, Mikaiah Lei, jumped into the audience at one point, dragging the microphone chord to its limit and throwing his body around, falling into the laps of his listeners, myself included. Meanwhile, Anaiah threw water bottles at us and continued to make the drums pulsate. When Matthew Healy, frontman of The 1975, appeared in the sidelines to dance along, all eyes turned to him, urging him to command the stage instead. My feet were beginning to ache and my patience wear thin, but at least The Bots had charisma.

             After the din subsided, a man wearing a beanie who I initially thought was one of the stage crew, now stared out at us from behind a MacBook. Much to my delight, this man turned out to be DJ Bear//Face and he began remixing The 1975’s “Intro/Set 3.” My ears were flooded with electric beats and pounding bass and everyone started to sway. Swaying turned to grinding as Jeremih’s “Birthday Sex” got chopped and screwed. Bear//Face was surprisingly nonchalant and ridiculously good at his art form. All we could see were his hands skillfully moving around the keyboard, transfixed by how he did it with such ease. About two hours later, it was finally time for The 1975 to take center stage.

             Band members Adam Hann, George Daniel, and Ross MacDonald took their places, and Healy loomed over us, twirling his microphone in circles. All it took were the first few notes of “Head.Cars.Bending” to play and suddenly I was being pounced on from all angles. Let me just say that The 1975 are not really a mosh pit kind of band, but somehow I ended up being consumed in one. Through the course of the evening, I stopped fighting the flow and jumped and shoved like the best of them. What else can you really do? I like to call it “experience.” Luckily though, a plaid-shirted stranger came to my aid and he helped me fend off most of the people careening into me. We communicated a silent understanding through a few thumbs ups and mouthed “thank you’s.” This was certainly not the same band I had seen a few months earlier. This was certainly not the same crowd I had witnessed either! Replacing a fairly reserved, stationary bunch from The Borderline was a mob of overtly excited fans. Even Healy told the audience to calm down, to which I managed to scream out a rather hoarse, “Thank you!” That seemed to be my adopted phrase of the night.

             As Healy sang a song called “Girls” from The 1975’s upcoming album, he looked over and smiled and winked at his girlfriend, model Gemma Janes. He also conveyed genuine surprise at playing to such a large crowd and credited us all for making it possible. Healy snapped us with his camera, and I can say that although I might be a speck on that shot, I was there and proud to be included amongst the rest of the specks. Somewhere between a flurry of interchanging colored lights and trying not to succumb to the undulations of the crowd, the gig occurred and the gig ended. Crowd-pleaser and radio sensation “Chocolate” left my friend wishing they could have played it again so she could enjoy it. She had been instead concerning herself with attending to her smacked nose. Afterwards, it was time to indulge in some McDonald’s and recuperate. We took consolation in the fact that we had probably burned most of it off during the show already. Heaven, known typically for its gay scene, is located conveniently close to Charing Cross tube station. It didn’t take long then for us to go from Under the Arches on Villiers Street to the Golden Arches back where we live in Richmond.

             I have now been to three of The 1975’s shows. I was lucky enough the first two times to revel in quiet ambience and meet Healy, but with crowds as large as Heaven’s, a meet and greet is now near impossible. I guess you could say they’ve made it and I couldn’t think of a band more worthy of the recognition. I’m glad that I could be a part of their transition and watch it happen right in front of my eyes. In September, I will be attending another one of The 1975’s shows at the O2 Shepherds Bush Empire with a capacity of 2,000 people. Maybe my moshing skills will be perfected by then. 

             The 1975’s latest EP, IV, dropped on May 20th and it has been confirmed that their debut album will be released in September. Check here for their website. If you’re interested in The Bots, have a look here, and if you’re in the mood for Bear//Face, listen here.