The Royal Ballet Festival of New Choreography in both the main house and the Linbury and the Clore studios complements the current run of Kenneth MacMillan’s Manon, which was daring in its day. The Four New Works, world premières all, in the main house are not in his league—who is—but they are all exciting and stimulating and deserve to be seen. All are ROH debuts.
The degree of talent on display is high if experience is variable. The half-hour pieces are introduced by a filmed interview with each choreographer. The first two have connections with the Royal Ballet, Gemma Bond, a former First Artist member of the company, and Joshua Junker, presently a First Artist.
Bond moved to American Ballet Theatre where she dipped her toe into choreography, inspired by Alexei Ratmansky. She says two of her other influences are MacMillan and Bronislav Nijinska. And watching children’s uninhibited boundless play...
Her Boundless uses music for two pianos (played by the ever reliable Kate Shipway and Robert Clark) “In Unison” by Dutch composer Joey Roukens, which sounds Broadway jazzy to me. The pace is fast and I think William Forsythe, Christopher Wheeldon (danse à grande vitesse) and possibly Balanchine (via Nijinska?).
Black-costumed by Charlotte MacMillan, twelve dancers, mostly young Artists and Soloists, led by Principals Yasmine Naghdi and Ryoichi Hirano in fleeting busy variations, and astonishing lifts. Naghdi’s legs pistons, hands and feet aflutter, she is a puppet in Hirano’s hands. It is brilliant and slightly overwhelming.
The same might apply to Joshua Junker’s Never Known. Techno music by Nils Frahm and Vikingur Ólafsson (written and performed by Frahm) with sound designer Angel Pérez Grandi credited, too, we could be on another planet. Sound is syncopated—I love the beat. Noemi Daboczi’s costumes look space age, matching the greyness of the set, the drifting smoke.
Crystal Pite could be the influence here, the large shoal of dancers—I count nineteen. Couples break away from the group. One-hand lifts look deliberately awkward (under the tummy with bum in the air), the female putty in the male dancer’s arms, as he moulds her to fit his body. Strip lights lower—are we in an underground car park or a space station?
From space to South Africa—Mthuthuzeli November, who has already established himself with Ballet Black, winning Olivier and Black Theatre Awards for Ingoma. Music again is a driving force, and November has composed his own—with Alex Wilson—for For What It’s Worth.
Well, it’s worth a lot, as it brings the first flash of colour to the evening in Yann Seabra’s silk Chinoiserie stylish costumes. His disk headdresses bring geometric structure to November’s lines, as they reflect the hot sun represented by a panel of sixteen (four by four) orange lights overhead. Zeynep Kepekli, lighting designer throughout, infuses the stage with welcome warmth.
Pointe work to percussive beats, stabbing a rhythm, Principal Mayara Magri and Soloist Leo Dixon lead a mix of Soloists and Artists Olivia Findlay, Hannah Grenfell, Joonhyuk Jun, Isabel Lubach, Blake Smith, Julie Ann Joyner and Marianna Tsembenhoi in casual yet meaningful dance. Celebratory, easy-going ambience and joy—is worth every penny.
Joy is what I feel at the end of Jessica Lang’s Twinkle. It cheers me up. Light, breezy, with witty nods to many other works, it’s a tongue-in-cheek pastiche of classical ballet—do I briefly see a couple from Frederick Ashton’s Les Patineurs? Is that a nod to Balanchine? References are from everywhere: three women dance and I see the three graces.
In Jillian Lewis’s sugary pastel colours against Lang’s own set design concept of streaked sky with giant gold Christmas bauble or a bright star, Twinkle brings child-like joy, there’s no other word for it, even if I’m repeating myself. The ten dancers look to be having fun. Principals Fumi Kaneko and William Bracewell as lead couple is quality casting.
Lang has been choreographing for twenty-five years and this is her first invitation from the Royal Ballet. Long overdue, but worth the wait—who hasn't she worked with, dance and opera companies both? She’s danced with Twyla Tharp, in Glen Tetley’s Pierrot Lunaire, with Jirí Kylián, ABT, Alvin Ailey and more. A wealth of experience, now a freelancer, it allows her to be playful (“sure thing” and high fives) without losing perfect classical technique.
The music—Wiegenlied, Op. 49, No. 4 by Brahms; Twelve Variations on Ah vous dirai-je, Maman, KV265 by Mozart—is child’s play (Shipway again). You’ll recognise the pieces as Brahms lullaby and “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”.
It signs off with Bracewell alone in a held pose. For me it ends with a happy sigh. What a fabulous mixed bonbons of an evening.