Swan Lake vs. Ballet

So last Wednesday, Kate invited us to go see Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake with her (THANKS KATE LOVE YA).  Since Chelsea and I are both dancers, we = super excited.  But kind of nervous, since this version of Swan Lake is commonly known as the "all male" version.  Could be very, very weird.  Or could be cool.

Cool.  Definitely cool.  Here's why:

1. STANDARD BALLET: Everything is supposed to look easy.  SWAN LAKE: Strug city.  But a good kind of strug.

In this ballet (and I don't even know if this was ballet.  It was like, contemporary-ballet-bird-nakedness), the dancers didn't try to hide anything.  Allow me to explain.  The male swans were naked, save for their feathery swan pants and ghostly white makeup covering their whole body.  (See photo below.  Abs, y'all.)

Okay, well, I guess they were just shirtless.  But that means that when they started sweating, you saw it.  You might find that gross. Maybe it is.  But at the same time, if you see how much the dancers are sweating, you see how much effort they are putting into it.  I'm not saying the dancing looked laborious, because it didn't.  I'm saying, for the first time, despite being a dancer almost my whole life, I saw how truly physical dancing is.  I came out of the ballet with a huge amount of respect for the sheer athleticism of the swans.  And that's pretty damn cool.  Art, culture, and the Olympics.

2. STANDARD BALLET: Suspend your disbelief, please.  SWAN LAKE: Don't suspend your disbelief.  In fact, we won't let you.


Whenever I see a ballet production (which, granted, isn't that often), the thing that throws me off most is how, when the music gets a little mezzo-piano, or, if the composer is really going crazy, even pianissimo, you can hear EVERYTHING.  I mean everything, from the clacking thumps of pointe shoes hitting the floor (a sound I weirdly love) to the panting of the dancers.  This could have really thrown me out of my "classy NYC ballet attendee" character I was reppin' that night.  (Chelsea even said I looked like I was going "to the baaaahhhlett."  Outfit win.)  But OH NO.  In Swan Lake, I experienced one of the most bizarrely awesome things -- ballet dancers, breathing in unison.  And not just breathing, but using their inhalation dynamically.  The music would get a little soft, and suddenly, you'd hear the corps of swans deeply breathing in through their nose, then exhaling on a "HUH!" sound, a sound which corresponded with some kind of powerful choreography.  And they'd do this, over and over again, putting emphasis on different movements and signaling emotional changes.  Best of all, you don't have to suspend your disbelief -- you can't not (double negative) believe that in front of you, on stage, is a gang (Flock?  Gaggle?  I'm gonna Google it.  Oh shit.  A group of swans is called "a Whiteness."  A whiteness of swans.  I can't make that up) of mean, badass swans.  The group breathing thing works.

3. STANDARD BALLET: Phenomenal dancers.  SWAN LAKE:  This guy.

Ladies and gentleman who haven't seen Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake, meet Richard Winsor.  He was The Swan.  THE Swan.  To explain how killer he was, I have to try to explain the swan movements.  There was a lot of arm-folding-over-the-head-with-broken-wrists posing, back-contortion-akin-to-the-yoga-pose-"cobra" lunging, bird-getting-a-better-view-of-something head flicking, and Michael-Jackson-esque full leg flicking.  Not your typical adagio or grand allegro movement.  It could have been catastrophically weird -- you noticed the bizarreness when some of the corps dancers had little solos (a memorable vignette: a male dancer wearing a costume I can only describe as Peter Pan's lederhosen [complete with fake moustache -- how trendy hipster] dancing with five overly dramatic butterfly fairies).  And yet, every time Richard Winsor flicked his head, Chelsea and I were like, "Aight."  And every time he did an attitude with the arms-folding-over-head-with-broken-wrists pose, we were like, "I see you."  And the fact that he was an imaginary (or not...plot?!?!?!) swan preying on a little boy Prince didn't cause any alarm.  We believed everything he did.  Not only did we believe him, he nailed the dancing.  I've never seen a pose like the one in the picture above look so freaking powerful.  And he's out there doing a pax de deux with another EQUALLY STRONG male dancer (the Prince), and he's lifting him like the Prince is just another 100lb. ballerina.  You know, nbd, typical Richard Winsor.

And, on top of Richard Winsor's sheer hardcore swan masculinity, in the second half of the show he comes on as The Stranger at the royal ball.  And by "Stranger" I mean tall, dark, leather-pants-wearing, cigarette-smoking-on-stage, doing-four-shots-in-a-row, hooking-up-with-all-the-ladies-including-the-Queen Stranger.  Obviously.

His Stranger had the leather pants of Ukrainian pop singer Vitaliy Kozlovsky (who I met in person... and danced onstage with), the rich guy SLASH badass attitude of Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne, and the I-can-bang-anybody attitude of a lovechild between Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark (a little too comical for The Stranger) and Bradley Cooper's bro from The Hangover.  And The Stranger goes out there and does some pelvic thrusts around stage and is simultaneously dancing with every single woman in the show and isjust possibly the most badass mofo ever to hit the ballet stage.  That's all I'm gonna say.

Don't be alarmed.  If you're undergoing sensory overload, that's what's supposed to be happening.  That's happening in the theater every single night Swan Lake goes on.  The show ends, and you don't quite know what hit you.  It's draining.  But, dammit, it's so worth it.  

-Lida 

    (and Chelsea helped write until "Could be very, very weird."  Joint writing fail.)