ARTS
Dance
Prometheus unsound
Deirdre McMahon
The Royal Ballet (Covent Garden)
With the advent of the new regime at the Royal Opera House, there has been a lot of soul-searching in the press about the future of the Royal Opera, Royal Ballet and Sadlers Wells Royal Ballet. The latter is presently awaiting the decision of the Opera House Board as to whether it will move to Birmingham in 1989.
At the Royal Ballet press conference in June, a number of policy points were made by both Jeremy Isaacs and Anthony Dowell: the importance of new work; the necessity of nurturing a faithful and regular audience; an increase in the number of performances and last, but certainly not least, the box office. It doesn't take long to work out that there is a glaring contradic- tion between some of these policies. The Royal Ballet will never regain its former loyal 'regulars' unless the repertory im- proves. In 1976/77, the last year of Ken- neth MacMillan's directorship, the reper- tory comprised seven full-length ballets and 21 one-act ballets. From 1979 to 1984 the average was eight and 27 respectively. If one looks at last year's report, 1987/88, the tally looks respectable enough — seven full-length and 17 one-act ballets. But the report is highly misleading because this total refers to the financial year, not to the usual ballet season which runs from Octo- ber to June/July. On this basis the content of the repertory is more disturbing: five full-length and 13 one-act ballets. In other words, the size of the Royal Ballet's repertory has declined by well over 40 per cent in 12 years.
No wonder the faithful core of regulars has stayed away and no wonder the dan- cers are so lacklustre with such a monoto- nous repertory. Last season well over half the performances at the Opera House were given to just five ballets, a ridiculous 18 to Swan Lake, ridiculous because the Royal Ballet is always moaning about how few performances it gets at Covent Garden. In view of these figures how can Isaacs and Dowell really be serious when they talk about the need for new work, building up new audiences and, a subject much to the fore recently, the preservation of the
Ashton repertory?
One can always fill the Opera House with Swan Lake and Romeo and Juliet but should bums-on-seats be the only operat- ing policy? It seems to be at present and this is reflected in that sharnbles of a document, the Annual Report of the Royal Opera House. For the last four years it has provided no proper breakdown of reper- tory and performance statistics and with regard to Sadlers Wells Royal Ballet parti- cularly this information has been virtually non-existent. It contains everything we peed to know — except what both Royal Ballet companies have been doing.
Ashton's Ondine and Rhapsody were two of the ballets which opened the Royal Ballet's new season, both celebrations in his memory. Ondine was more focused and sharp than it was last May and the dancers more dynamic and less liStless, especially in the ensemble work. Rhapsody, first cre- ated for the Queen Mother's 80th birthday, has not been seen for a few seasons. I have never seen a satisfactory performance, partly because the principals never seem quite comfortable in their roles. Rhapsody was made for Lesley Collier and Mikhail Baryshnikov, not a partnership made in heaven since they were so dissimilar in style. There is a dark, deep, romantic vein in Rhapsody that has continually eluded the dancers who only skim the scintillating surface.
On the same programme as Rhapsody was David Bintley's latest work, The Trial of Prometheus. In my more resigned mo- ments I regard Bintley as one of those slow-acting viruses that have to be gradual- ly worked out of the system. But with two new ballets in less than five weeks he seems more like one of those amoebae which reproduce themselves effortlessly. To judge from his latest oeuvre this is rather how Bintley sees himself, though on a i rather more elevated level, of course. He is Prometheus who animates his figures with fire stolen from heaven. For this he is brought to trial before the Olympian deities, Ares, Dionysus, Apollo, Zeus, not to mention Hermes. Gosh! The Sons of I-torus was Egyptian mythology and now Bintley is trying his hand at Greek. What will he do next? Assyrian? According to the programme note, `Prometheus, in con- tempt of the court, envisages a time when
his creations will multiply and rise up against the Gods, defying their omnipo- tence. Outraged, the Olympians depart.' Well fancy that.
The Trial of Prometheus is, of course, Bintley's 'humorous' tilt at his critics in the dance press, only the humour is of the same club-footed variety that sinks The Sons of Horus and Still Life at the Penguin Cafe. At the end of the ballet the creatures of Prometheus wander about the stage, a horde of unitard zombies (reminiscent of IvlacMillan's Rite of Spring). If this is how Bintley sees his creations he is more self-revealing than perhaps he intended.
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