Approached from a musical standpoint, Rambert 
          impresses by its eclectic breadth of sources tapped, 
          without pigeonholing any preferences. In its current 75th anniversary 
          celebrations, each programme features the live music making of its Associate 
          Orchestra London Musici, directed by Paul Hoskins, but 
          there is always taped music too, reproduced on state of the art equipment, 
          loud but distortion-free. For Hurricane a single dancer, Simon 
          Cooper, represented in commedia dell'Arte guise the complexities 
          of Bob Dylan's storytelling song of that name, with which everyone there 
          seemed familiar, about a black boxer framed for triple murder,. From 
          the programme note we gathered that he was cleared of all charges but 
          only after twenty years; surtitles would have helped some of us oldbeards! 
        
 
        
It is always inspiriting to emerge from the 'new music 
          ghetto' and experience challenging music, in a variety of genres, in 
          the lively company of the young audiences who fill Sadler's Wells for 
          dance events and don't want to hear only what they know they like, which 
          has to be taken into account by classical music promoters. They know 
          the dancers, support them with whistling and screaming, but surely take 
          in the idioms of Stravinsky and Scelsi at the same time as they renew 
          acquaintance with Bob Dylan and his confreres. 
        
 
        
This is one strand in musical life that holds out great 
          hope for the future - surely there will not be such a time lag for acceptance 
          of early C. 21 music as there was for that of the first quarter of the 
          C. 20? 
        
 
        
Tracks by 'Aphex Twin' (presumably a composing pair?), 
          the final one from Ambient Works Vol II, served to accompany 
          the only premiere of the evening, Twin Suite 2, a goodly up-to-date 
          noise, but in truth rather monotonous. London Musici came into 
          its own for The Celebrated Soubrette, playing Michael Daugherty's 
          Le Tombeau de Liberace of 1996, which provided energetic, efficiently 
          orchestrated accompaniments for 'a tawdry journey through the glitz 
          and grime of Las Vagas', but was not music I would seek out to hear 
          again. 
        
 
        
Far more memorable a musical experience was Stuart 
          Dempster's Underground Overlays, used by the veteran Merce 
          Cunningham for his compelling Ground Level Overlays, a computerised, 
          abstract creation - yes, dance too can now be generated by computer 
          programmes, just as music has been for Xenakis and Lindberg. Cunningham 
          choreographed Ground Level Overlays by processing 'movement phrases' 
          into LifeForms, the dance computer he utilises, continuing 'my 
          interest in dancers as people dealing with movement complexities'. The 
          dancing was at ground level, but Dempster's music had been recorded 
          by ten trombonists near Seattle, 14 feet down in an acoustically unique, 
          huge underground cistern, 'with an incredible 45 second reverberation 
          period, any sound reverberated with nearly perfect evenness of tone 
          quality and dynamic range'. Cunningham's partner John Cage, to whose 
          memory Ground Level Overlays is dedicated, had been deeply moved 
          by a CD Deep Listening (1988), recorded in that old water tank, 
          known locally as 'The Cistern Chapel'. 
        
 
        
I found the Rambert dancing accomplished, indeed expert, 
          and always watchable and interesting to see, but it is a foreign language 
          and, all the music this time being new to me, I would not venture to 
          trespass on the territory of the dance critics, who were all enthusiastic, 
          especially about Rambert's acquisition of Merce Cunningham's work. Ground 
          Level Overlays had been premiered in New York, 1995, 'one of the 
          loveliest works in his company's repertoire - - Cunningham's gift of 
          consolation: Rambert joyously does it justice' (Jann Parry in The Observer). 
          In London, the multi-tracked taped score was supplemented by live trombonists 
          of London Musici, the whole reverberating around Sadler's Wells to wondrous 
          effect. 
        
 
        
Peter Grahame Woolf 
        
 
        
  
        
  
        
Dance on DVD 
        
  
        
Marc Bridle reviews the Lyon National Opera’s 
          production of Prokofiev’s Romeo & Juliet and Peter Grahame Woolf 
          looks at DVDs of Carmen, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Coppelia and The 
          Nutcracker. 
        
 
        
Romeo & Juliet 
          (Prokofiev), 
          Lyon National Opera Ballet & Lyon National Opera Orchestra Kent 
          Nagano, conductor
        
Arthaus DVD 100 246, region code 
          2 & 5. 
        
 
        
This is the third version of Prokofiev’s great ballet 
          I have now seen on DVD – and immeasurably the best, even if it is sliced 
          and cut to less than half its usual length. Warner have already issued 
          the Nureyev production, classical and conservative in style and design, 
          and suffering from the most lugubrious account of the music I have yet 
          heard. It reminds one of wading through treacle. A horrendously cheap 
          DVD release on Video Land Klassik (with just four chapters supporting 
          more than two-and-a-half hours of music) purportedly dates from 1938 
          – yet is in such splendid colour (and sound) that this simply cannot 
          be the case. It is, however, beautifully conducted, coming nearest to 
          Nagano in setting almost ideal tempi for this work. 
        
 
        
Watching this Arthaus release after either of those 
          DVD performances is likely to prove both rewarding and shocking. Rewarding, 
          because Nagano’s approach to the score is incendiary, with palpable 
          electricity lighting up the inherent darkness of the production at every 
          turn. Shocking, because this is the darkest imaginable vision of a great 
          love story stripped naked and then weighed down by a post-war, almost 
          apocalyptic, view of a Europe torn apart by hatred and ethnic cleansing. 
          The Montagues and Capulets are more akin to the warring factions of 
          Bernstein’s West Side Story than Shakespeare’s warring European nobility, 
          and there is more than a suggestion of fascist thuggery operating very 
          close to the surface of this gut-wrenching production. 
        
 
        
Angelin Preljocaj agreed to create this production 
          for Lyons Opera on the condition that he could use a considerably foreshortened 
          score, a decision principally taken so the music would sit more comfortably 
          with a ballet told as a political and emotional parable. However, in 
          achieving this the scenes have been moved around in a bizarre fashion: 
          in Scene 3, for example, No.35 (Romeo decides to avenge Mercutio’s death) 
          appears before No.34 (Mercutio Dies). In the Third Act we have No 31 
          (incorrectly identified in the booklet as No 32) – Tybalt meets Mercutio 
          – misplaced when what we really have is Juliet with the ghosts of both 
          (in otherwords, No 44). 
        
 
        
This complexity does not diminish the sheer audacity 
          of the production values, however, evidently coloured by the backgrounds 
          of both the designer and the choreographer. Those designs, by Enki Bilal, 
          a former Yugoslavian comic book illustrator, are principally drawn in 
          a bleak Berlinesque landscape of inescapable walls. They mimic in many 
          ways the eclectic design that Fritz Lang brought to his 1920s film Metropolis, 
          and there is also in this production an emphasis on the futuristic – 
          particularly illustrated by the pseudo robotic nurses who hive around 
          Juliet. With monochrome colouring, a pervasive illusion of darkness, 
          and a threnody of extraneous sound (such as helicopter rotor blades) 
          this is both everyone’s nightmare and someone’s depiction of a police 
          state in action. 
        
 
        
In choreographic terms this production is a millennium 
          away from the staid artistry of Nureyev and Kasatkina/Vasilov. This 
          is, of course, very classical ballet – and in all three productions 
          it is difficult to separate the movements used in both Juliet’s Funeral 
          and the Death of Juliet, so similarly are the dancers matched in movement 
          between the different productions. However, when you look at how Preljocaj 
          has choreographed the Dance of the Knights – for once aggressive, and 
          not at all like the chessboard movements we always seem to see – you 
          can feel the abstraction which this choreographer brings to modern dance. 
          Entire bodies become balletic, even if the movements are predominantly 
          minimalist. Rather than an all-embracing fluency of movement the division 
          of labour is stark: Romeo and Juliet have a swallow-like freedom, whereas 
          the guards and nurses have an automaton, almost mechanical presence. 
        
 
        
Generally this is a superbly danced performance – Pascale 
          Doye and Nicolas Dufloux tangible and emotive as the lovers. Nagano 
          grips the score with a vice, and the playing is both lithe and exciting. 
          Controversially, and given the passion of the playing, it is almost 
          sacrilegious that Juliet’s death should occur after the music has finished. 
          It is my only real point of contention in what is otherwise a superb 
          production. 
        
 
        
Marc Bridle 
        
 
        
  
        
Carmen 
          (Bizet/Schtschredrin) 
          Arthaus DVD 100 182
          Sleeping Beauty (Tchaikovsky) 
          National Philharmonic Orchestra/Richard Bonynge
          Arthaus DVD 100 054 
          Cinderella 
          (Prokofiev & Schwarz) Lyon National Opera 
          Orchestra/Jacob Kreisberg 
          Arthaus DVD 100 234
          Coppelia (Delibes) 
          Lyon National Opera Orchestra/Kent Nagano. 
          Arthaus DVD 100 337
          The Nutcracker (Tchaikovsky) 
          Orchestre Collonne/Edmon Colomer with Yvette Horner (accordion)
          TDK DV-BLBNC (PGW) 
        
 
        
All discs region coded 2 & 5. 
        
I can warmly recommend to unprejudiced S&H 
          readers several excellent Arthaus DVDs plus one 
          from TDK, all distributed by Select 
          Music. All of them are updated 
          in different ways and have provided food for thought, alongside pure 
          enjoyment and admiration for unfettered imaginations.  Whereas 
          opera has moments of visual repose when music takes over, dance keeps 
          the eyes continually engaged and makes for absorbing home viewing.  
        
The maverick Mats Ek's Carmen 
          takes the Soviet composer Schredrin's popular 
          suite made from Bizet's music, and weaves a dance work of astonishing 
          emotional intensity, its searing feeling driving away questions of literal 
          interpretation of the familiar tale or thought of the opera.  Mats 
          Ek's version of Sleeping Beauty, with 
          Tchaikovsky's score faithfully recorded by Richard Bonynge and the NPO, 
          eschews prettiness and has a strange version of the story with 
          male swans.  Of a different ilk is Maguy Marin's Cinderella, 
          strictly based upon the original story, but seen through child eyes, 
          with all the characters masked living dolls with real human feelings, 
          reflecting how children identify with their toys. A wonderful DVD for 
          the whole family to enjoy during the Christmas festivities.  
        
Maguy Marin's Coppelia, 
          is utterly different. Her version takes the story, about the breakup 
          of a real relationship because of infatuation with a mechanical doll 
          - representing an unattainable and imaginary ideal woman as fed 
          to us by the media - into our own time.  
        
The archetypal theme of the image taking over from 
          reality (Golem, Frankenstein etc) is given in a modern, inner city setting, 
          with some violence.  The first act of this Coppelia is 
          set outside a drab block of flats, with concerted dances that remind 
          one of the build up of tensions in West Side Story - abbreviated here 
          by omission of Delibes' folk dances, which interrupt the story telling 
          in the original ballet.  Afterwards, paradoxically, the imagination 
          expands in Coppelius' small flat and the dance aspect improves 
          in an indoor fantasy with a bevy of scarlet dolls - a memorable image 
          of fantasy overwhelming reality; disturbing, very imaginative and brilliantly 
          filmed. The Delibes score is played excellently by Kent Nagano 
          with the Lyon National Opera Orchestra, and as well recorded.     
        
Maurice Bejart's The Nutcracker is, in 
          its way, equally different from the perennial Christmas show seen revived 
          year after year at South Bank. It is lavish, gorgeous to look at and 
          innovative in its treatment, even though the dancing does not stray 
          far from classical ballet, with the Pas de Deux is given in Petipa's 
          original version. Bejart draws upon his own early life, interpolating 
          spoken reminiscences in his ballet's live presentation at The Theatre 
          Musical de Chatelet - Paris, especially in centring his new scenario 
          upon an 8-yr old boy who adores his dead mother, is unable to regain 
          her and becomes a dancer, incorporating also Mephisto from Goethe's 
          Faust. A circus setting provides new opportunities for the second act 
          divertissements, in which popular French music is introduced by 
          the accordionist, who even towards the end descants with the orchestra 
          in Tchaikovsky's music, charmingly done and sure not to cause offence. 
          A bright and colourful show; with expert and personable young dancers 
          and the famous score well played and recorded, this is another desirable 
          DVD for the holiday season, and beyond. 
        
 
        
Peter Grahame Woolf