Ballet Review: Bourne's brilliant bisexual Swan Lake

Swan Lake

Choreography by Sir Matthew Bourne

Music by Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky

New York City Center, Manhattan

Starring Will Bozier and James Lovell

February 9, 2020

Matthew Bourne  (b. 1960) is among the most renowned of modern choreographers, but has often been criticized for his “pop” ballet takes on classics such as The Car Man (based on Bizet’s Carmen) and revivals of classical musicals like My Fair Lady. He tends towards bisexual/polyamorous takes on these classics, and has done so for decades, well ahead of the current trends in art. Perhaps his most famous retake was of Swan Lake, which premiered in 1996 and shocked the establishment for its treatment of the story as a gay coming-out tale, replete with hunky swans. This famous production recently completed a worldwide, yearlong tour with a sold-out NYC engagement. The fame of this production is now such that Matthew Ball, a principal dancer of the Royal Ballet, was flown in to share the role of The Swan/The Stranger with Will Bozier and Max Westwell, who had performed the demanding part on the worldwide tour. The Swan is truly one of the most virtuosic male roles in ballet, shown famously at the end of the excellent movie Billy Elliot (2000) in which a young rural boy triumphs by becoming a famous ballet dancer in London. So how would this radical retake on Swan Lake fare in our more enlightened, more sexually blasé times? Brilliantly, it turns out. This was perhaps the most dramatic and engaging evening of dance that I have ever attended.

The traditional plot of Swan Lake tells the story of Prince Siegfried, who must pick a bride, but instead is diverted by the attractions of Odette, a girl who, with her companions, has been converted into a swan by an evil sorcerer. The powers-that-be try to tempt Siegfried into instead marrying Odile, the evil daughter of the sorcerer, tricking him into doing so by making her take on Odette’s appearance. When the evil ruse is discovered, Odette and Siegfried commit suicide. Their love breaks the curse, the swans become human again, and Siegfried and Odette ascending to heaven. Bourne’s modern retake cleverly uses many elements from this plot. Here, a sexually questioning prince, distraught about his forced marriage to an airhead bride, flees to a lake in a London park, intending to commit suicide. He encounters the swans, here macho, shirtless dances wearing feathered leggings. These are not your normal Swan Lake beasts. They scowl, fight, flex, and have a raw sexuality tinged with a bit of S/M. The prince falls for the lead swan (the expressive and commanding Will Bozier), who mixes beauty, sexuality, passion, and ambivalence, not so far from fantasy ideals of traditional gay male culture. At a ball in the palace, the Swan (now as The Stranger) crashes the party, dressed in full leather garb, and seduces men and women alike (including the prince’s mother, the Queen), torturing the infatuated prince. The prince retreats to his bedroom after a mental breakdown. The swan wondrously emerges (phallically) from within his bedsheets to declare his love for the prince, but the other swans, jealous of the lead swan’s affections, violently kill the lead swan, pecking him to death quite graphically. The prince dies, distraught, but we at the end see him and his swan-lover embracing above the stage, much like the heaven-borne traditional ending.

On its surface, this plot might have led to a ridiculous parody. What is so brilliant about this is the way Bourne uses all the traditional plot elements (frustrated prince, fantasy about unattainable lovers, a minority having to be something they are not) and makes it all work. This is due to combined superb acting, updated mime vocabulary in which every action and intention is very clear to the viewer, and the way every cast member fully buys into their role. Will Bozier and James Lovell made a terrific romantic duo; Bozier taller, muscular, threatening, confident; Lovell slight, boyish, vulnerable, wondering. This Swan seduces everyone in sight, and his joint seduction of mother and son at the party somehow comes across as non-icky. Bourne’s choreography straddles classical and modern dance much as Balanchine’s does, though he lacks Balanchine’s talent for mass group movement. His solos and duets, however, are expressive and moving. For this ballet he really invented a convincing vocabulary for two paired male dancers to show love and lust. His dance is very responsive to Tchaikovsky’s magnificent score. For example, like Mark Morris’ The Hard Nut (1991), he shows that the rhythmic side of Tchaikovsky works great as a backdrop for popular dance steps. I got the sense that Bourne was very influenced by Mark Morris’ work, but the piece is very different in that Bourne maintains the tragic romance aspect of the nineteenth century original and makes it both moving and convincing, hard to do in our cynical era. The plot and dance quality never flagged during the two hour production, and I left the hall quite inspired and elevated.

It was wonderful to see a packed, very mixed audience of young and old, gay and straight so caught up in this. Talk at intermission was not about this Swan Lake’s differentness or gayness, but about the story, characters, and romance, and how people felt so caught up in it. We have indeed come a long way since the 1990’s with its “Don’t ask, don’t tell” approach to sexuality. This ballet is in some ways the perfect introduction to serious dance, and I encourage you all to see this production if it appears in your area. I hope, based on the success of this world tour, that it hits the road again soon.