The Royal Ballet in Balanchine: Three Signature Works
The Royal Ballet is currently showcasing Three Signature Works of George Balanchine as part of the Dance Reflections by Van Cleef & Arpels Festival in London…
Royal Ballet in Balanchine’s ‘Serenade’. © Foteini Christofilopoulou
Royal Ballet
Balanchine: Three Signature Works: Serenade, Prodigal Son, Symphony in C
★★★★✰
London, Royal Opera House
31 March 2025
www.rbo.org.uk
Part of the Dance Reflections by Van Cleef & Arpels Festival
It’s good to see Balanchine back on the Royal Opera House stage - it’s been too long. The greatest ballet choreographer of the 20th century created movement that still looks modern, absolutely right for its music and always grown up, never twee. Full credit to the Royal Ballet and the Dance Reflections by Van Cleef & Arpels Festival for making it happen and showcasing Balanchine to another generation (along with many more modern continental works) over the last three weeks.
Balanchine is famously quoted as saying, “ballet is women,” and it’s a night that really puts the Royal Ballet (RB) female dancers on fullest display - the men less so. I’m not sure if he actually said that precisely, but here is a fuller quote that drives home his thought:
“In my ballets, woman is first. Men are consorts. God made men to sing the praises of women. They are not equal to men: They are better.” ~ George Balanchine
That’s never more true than in Serenade, from 1935, where the stage opens on an all-female tableau, each with a raised hand as if paying homage to the sun or some god. It’s a moment of perfect stillness as Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings slowly unfolds. This moment is emphasised by long, light blue, costumes, shorn of all embellishment - it usually makes me sigh. But quelle surprise - the costumes have changed (or I have - either or both is possible!) I’m sure in the past RB costumes had a more uniformly light blue look, and now there are very obvious beige panels to the front that, to my eye, really detract from the cool palette - and if anything, they unflatteringly emphasise the thighs. These might be a reverential return to Barbara Karinska’s designs of 1964 and/or the beige has perhaps become more prominent, but either way, the overall light blue consistency I remember from the past, and have seen in many pictures, works much better.
Sorry for the extended moan, but throughout Serenade’s 35 minutes, the costumes kept jarring with me. A shame because Serenade is a beautiful and emotional ballet that lightly skates over life - echoing the joy, wonder, and ethereal melancholy of Tchaikovsky’s music. Glorious patterns emerge as dancers meander individually or in groups as if gently nudged by an unseen wind. But then a dancer mysteriously collapses, hair is let down and a sense of brief community arrives. Mystery also pervades an ending that seems to show a spirit nobly departing to another world. You could do a PhD analysing Serenade, and it’s certainly a piece that you can see time and time again and spot new things in. Anna Rose O’Sullivan impressed, though the corps, particularly early on, weren’t quite moving with a single breath and the precision Balanchine looked for and delivered at New York City Ballet.
Prodigal Son was created by Balanchine in 1929 for Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes, with music by Prokofiev and terrific contemporary costumes from Georges Rouault. It’s the biblical story of a son who angrily leaves home for the lure of the city, falls in with a bad girl and crowd, and returns home beaten and penniless, to be forgiven by a father we would all want. A simple, melodramatic plot, it looks like an old work, but its movement still astounds and, for me, was the best work of the night.
I find the brief sections in the family home, at the start and end of Prodigal’s 40 minutes, least interesting; the meat is what happens to him in the city and the interactions with nine no-good Drinking Companions and the Siren who bewitches him. The Drinking Companions move with fast, fidgety awkwardness on squatted legs, drunkenly cavorting and only out to steal and have fun as a group - repeat and repeat. The Siren is more conventional, using her long legs to bewitch and tower over him, clutching him to her breast - her thoughts manifest in clever dramatic movement. All is unreal fun (for the Prodigal and for us out front) until they all turn on him and strip him of all he owns - even his shoes. Over the years, we have seen some memorable leads - Irek Mukhamedov and Sylvie Guillem come to mind, and while Cesar Corrales and Mayara Magri acquitted themselves pretty well, it was the movement that really shone brightly and left me wishing that Balanchine had done more overtly narrative work. I can’t end without saying how impressed I was by the nine Drinking Companions - they really nailed the bonkers look and movement.
The night concluded with Symphony in C and more female dazzle, if the men get a little more of a look-in than they did at the start of the night. At 35 minutes long, set to some generously accessible Bizet, composed when he was just 17, the work unfolds over four movements, each led by principal level casting. Fumi Kaneko and Vadim Muntagirov happily got things going, but it gains another gear with the classical perfection of Marianela Nuñez (partnered by an attentive Reece Clarke) - where everything is exhilaratingly and blissfully right. The corps might still be finding their feet at times, but by the sizzling end, with everybody on stage, you can’t fail to be impressed by the overall spectacle and display of pure joy. As with the recent performances of Merce Cunningham works, it’s clear that Balanchine still gives us much to feast on. More please.