For the first full-length ballet he commissioned as artistic director of Northern Ballet, Federico Bonelli took a bold step in selecting a two-act work based on the life of the wealthy 19th century landowner, Anne Lister. This tough, Yorkshire-born businesswoman – known locally as “Gentleman Jack” because of her apparently masculine appearance – was often at odds with the male-dominated society in which she lived, and she would later become known to a far wider public after her extensive diaries were decoded nearly a century after her death, revealing, in detail, her numerous lesbian relationships.
This surprising story became the inspiration for Sally Wainwright’s marvellous, and often funny, television costume drama, Gentleman Jack, filmed on location at Lister’s former home, Shibden Hall in Halifax. In turn, this story would become the basis of the new ballet choreographed for Northern Ballet by Annabelle Lopez Ochoa. The first performance of Gentleman Jack was at the Grand Theatre, Leeds, on March 7, and at its London premiere at Sadler’s Wells on May 19 it received a standing ovation from an audience that included HRH Prince Edward, the Duke of Edinburgh, Northern Ballet’s royal patron.
In an art form that has often shied away from any hint of homosexuality, Gentleman Jack is unusual. Few works in ballet have attempted to depict same-sex love in any depth, and – with its commissioned score by composer Peter Salem, and designs by Louise Flanagan and Christopher Ash – Gentleman Jack must be something of a first as, to my knowledge, I cannot think of another multi-act work that so openly explores lesbian relationships. The ballet, performed with conviction by the entire cast, is brave and ambitious, and in advance I had high hopes for it. However, with the heaviest of hearts, I must confess to disappointment.
Lopez Ochoa is good at depicting Anne Lister, danced by Gemma Coutts, in her battle to assert her authority in a male-dominated world, and her plucky and pugnacious personality wins through. Lister’s story is told swiftly and clearly, but I found the choreography surprisingly bland because Lopez Ochoa does not employ a dance vocabulary that stretches the range and capabilities of her cast. Too much of the time Gentleman Jack seems merely to be going through the motions of its plot, and there is a lack of strong character development through distinctive dance movement. Sometimes, it was hard to distinguish one character from another.
Particularly disappointing were the duets for Lister and the two women central to her love life: Marianna Lawton, performed by Saeka Shirai, and Ann Walker, portrayed by Rachael Gillespie. These duets offered the choreographer the chance to experiment and attempt something very different in ballet, and in contrast to more conventional pas de deux Lopez Ochoa deploys few lifts and balances. Instead, the women perform steps that propel towards or around each other, often in circular motions or angular positions. Their limbs entwine and the women caress tenderly, but just when you hope the pas de deux will develop into a deeper exploration of physical love between two women the choreography seems to lose impetus and fizzle out. What a missed opportunity.
My disappointment in Gentleman Jack extended also to Salem’s pleasant but unmemorable music, and to the unattractive costumes and the minimal setting that added little to the overall atmosphere of the work. For a ballet that is a celebration of difference, individuality and personal freedom, it certainly brought a noticeably queer audience into the theatre, but sadly, for me, it failed to make a strong impact simply because it was not different enough.
