When she danced with the Bolshoi and American Ballet Theatre, Georgia-born Nina Ananiashvili was a ballerina of rare eloquence. Since 2004, she has been artistic director of her home company, the State Ballet of Georgia. Bringing them to London for the first time in their 175-year history, she presents a production of Swan Lake that shares her qualities of precision and lightness but lacks the dramatic power that made her such a blazing star.
It’s an attractive and traditional affair, with designs by Vyacheslav Okunev that feature wimples, bright colours and painted trees. Unencumbered by psychology, it is unashamedly a fairytale, driving through to its (surprisingly) happy ending with speed and attack.
Its principal pleasures lie in the white swan sections, which have a chilly glory, with swans who move in perfect alignment, backs fiercely arched, wrists bent, fluidly curved arms making achingly lovely shapes. There’s a simplicity and strength to the dancing, which is echoed in the unaffected directness of Nino Samadashvili’s first-night Odette, all emotion contained in the shape of her shoulders and the delicate line of her arabesque.
She makes less impact as the evil black swan Odile, partly because of the Georgian habit of breaking off for applause, which interrupts momentum. Her Siegfried, Oleh Lihai, is a dancer of fine, elegant line and easy jumps, but he seems to wander around the stage rather than command it. It doesn’t matter, though, because at the close Samadashvili overcomes Marcelo Soares’s dashing Rothbart more or less on her own. (There are other casts during the run.)
If it’s always refreshing to see a different version of an old favourite, there’s nothing quite as exciting as seeing a terrific new work for the first time. At the end of the Edinburgh festival I was knocked out by Impasse, an exciting and thoughtful duet by choreographer Mufutau Yusuf for himself and (in this performance) Kennedy Junior Muntanga.
It begins with a piece of magical stagecraft. A sculpture made of those checked bags that people on the move pack all their possessions into is on one side of the stage; suddenly it begins to move, sliding across the space until a pair of red-fringed legs emerge and begin a ritualistic dance like a river god come to life. Then there’s darkness. The next time the lights go up, the naked form of Yusuf is leaning against Muntanga, who is fully clothed and carrying one of those bags.
It’s an indelible, suggestive image, conjuring complex thoughts and feelings. Yusuf was born in Nigeria but has lived in Ireland since he was nine; Impasse was made with support from the Arts Council of Ireland. Muntanga, based in Yorkshire, was born in Zambia. The piece, to a score by Tom Lane and Mick Donohoe that mixes the sounds of Africa with Bach and hip-hop, places their black bodies in a white space, and asks questions.
For most of the time, the dancers face away from the audience, moving in tandem, their muscles delineated by Matt Burke’s lighting. When they turn, it is both a relief and a challenge. The movement is sharp, detailed, full of grace, building to a propulsive climax where they run in endless unison. Original and impressive, it marks Yusuf as a choreographer to watch.
Star ratings (out of five)
Swan Lake ★★★
Impasse ★★★★★
