Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake

When I was much younger, mum valiantly used to take me along to the opera or ballet. Whilst I used to be fascinated with the costumes and opulent sets of both media, I think the physicality of ballet has always garnered more of my interest and admiration. How do those dancers make it look so graceful and effortless?? Last night, we went along to the Regent Theatre to see Matthew Bourne’s version of Swan Lake. Even though Bourne has twisted the original tale somewhat, the major themes of desire, longing and ultimately doomed love haven’t changed.

The story begins with the Prince tossing and turning in his enormous bed, troubled by a vision of a powerful swan, appearing above his bed. Upon waking, he seeks comfort (to no avail) from his cold and austere mother, the Queen. We see him follow her around unenthusiastically, as she carries out her royal duties and tries to mould him as a future leader. Even after the Prince is set up with the Girlfriend (cheeky, oblivious to ladylike behaviour, and lots of fun), and things seem to be going well for him, he is still unhappy and contemplates taking his life as he sits by a lake.

What stops him is the emergence of the Swan from out of the water. The Prince recognises him from his dreams and is instantly smitten. The other swans – all male – see the Prince as a threat, but he is shielded by the larger Swan, who offers the young Prince protection, comfort and ultimately, love. The casting of males as swans is probably the most significant departure from the traditional version of this ballet. In the show’s programme, Matthew Bourne says that given this bird’s shape and wingspan, it makes sense to him that the swans be male. The other striking thing is that the main Swan is, compared to the slightly built Prince, enormous. Tall, with broad shoulders and big waist, the Swan is unlike any of the others. I don’t know how ballet purists have reacted to this unusual take on a classic story, but the two male leads (especially the prince) convey much emotion without a word, and there were moments of such tenderness between them that I haven’t seen in any ballet before – even between a male and female.

Digressions aside though, despite what happens at the lake, the Prince is still unsettled and frustrated. These feelings spiral further out of control during a party where he mistakes a flirtatious Stranger for his Swan. This scene marks the Prince’s further descent into misery and you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that things don’t end well.


Although the original story has been tweaked quite a bit, and the choreography certainly isn’t traditional, Tchaikovsky’s original score remains. I’m a big fan of the more dreamy and majestic composers like him and Chopin. It’s amazing that so many years after this music was written, it can still be enjoyed now. I also have to admit that I wasn’t even aware of just how much of the Swan Lake score has been used elsewhere – whether in ads or movies.

Perhaps another reason why I like ballet so much is that I’m so un-coordinated. There’s something about the perfect unison and symmetry of the formations that the dancers, er, ‘form’ as groups. This was something that I missed last night, at times getting the feeling that there were a little too many different things going on at once, especially amongst the swans. In the scheme of things though, I think that’s only a small criticism for what was otherwise a very moving show.