The Prince of the Pagodas, The Royal Ballet | Dance reviews, news & interviews
The Prince of the Pagodas, The Royal Ballet
The problems of Kenneth MacMillan's fairytale are the performers', not the creators'
As Mrs Thatcher used to say, don’t bring me problems, bring me solutions. Solutions have been flung with a will at the problem ballet of Kenneth MacMillan’s last years, his orientalist fairytale The Prince of the Pagodas - the Royal Ballet’s retiring director Monica Mason revived it last night as one of her last presentations, determined that a new generation should have the chance to love it.
Cut, tightened up, re-edited 10 years after its choreographer’s death (a collaboration between MacMillan’s widow and the Royal Ballet, with the reluctant blessing of the Benjamin Britten Estate), The Prince of the Pagodas remains an adult fairytale of many riches, narrative, scenic, choreographic, and it has above all the magnetic draw of a properly fabulous score. I felt the ballet’s magic on its last outing at Covent Garden in 1996, but last night I was less enchanted. Some of this I would put down to habitual Royal Ballet first-night rawness, but also some unconvincing casting that hardly ensured the new edition would carry the ballet into the audience’s hearts.
In first-night casting the virtuous team were almost entirely trounced by the dark forces
The best fairytales reveal the abyss, unfathomable mystery, the eternal war between evil and goodness. MacMillan’s take is contemporary, much indebted to the unsuccessful originating Pagodas ballet of his friend and colleague, John Cranko, yet there are several juicy personal MacMillan themes here, male brutality, dysfunctional families, vulnerable innocence. Many children’s stories echo in Pagodas - from The Sleeping Beauty to Alice in Wonderland to The Frog Prince - but the journey faced by Princess Rose is a stark Freudian nightmare of faceless, unpleasant men, and her dream prince has been turned into a salamander, a slithery thing who wriggles on the ground.
Family life is hell: her father, the Emperor, is a crippled Lear who unwisely portions his lands between his two daughters, Rose getting most, and therefore suffering the rage of her black-hearted sister Épine, who seizes the crown and casts a reptilian transformation over Rose’s handsome prince. Her minder, and in some ways her magical protector, is the court Fool, who both enlightens her understanding of adulthood and also counters her sorceress sister’s powers, like the Lilac Fairy blowing away Carabosse in The Sleeping Beauty. Then there is the pivotal dramatic difficulty which is the matter of the Prince himself, who switches between salamander and himself without warning, sometimes “real”, sometimes “dream”, not always well-signalled for the audience.
This is complicated territory, and it’s spectacularly set by the late Nicholas Georgiadis in a sort of toy Tudor palace full of courtiers with hugely stuffed breeches, big hair and big sticks, a satirical setting that reminds me of the subversive theatrics of Punch and Judy. Yet it’s not children’s stuff, and it needs stirring dramatic and dancing performances in the key roles to unify it into a strong magical fable for adults.
Share this article
Subscribe to theartsdesk.com
Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 10,000 pieces, we're asking for £2.95 per month or £25 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.
To take an annual subscription now simply click here.
And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a theartsdesk.com gift subscription?
Style and showmanship aplenty from one of flamenco's innovators
Grimly majestic femininity steals the show at annual Spanish showcase
Marianela Nuñez's dream Odette/Odile distracts from hideous designs and score butchery
Crystal Pite's reworked duet pips premières from Kate Prince and Hofesh Shechter
Another clever, comic double bill from Jonathan Burrows and Matteo Fargion
Cranko's adaptation of Pushkin offers plenty of character and intrigue
Two gems and two duds in celebratory mixed bill with live music
Fine dancers in well-designed, interesting war piece
The Scandinavian stylists give a tantalising glimpse of their Royal jewels
Great Cojocaru and Vasiliev provide the cherry on top of a wonderful company production
Live orchestra makes up for touring production's dance weaknesses
A dozen unforgettable events from a rich year