I have no wish to offend the good people of Wales but – as an Englishman, through and through – it seems to me that there can be nothing in culture more evocative of that beautiful country than the poetry of Dylan Thomas, being read by Cerys Matthews as the foreground (how could it be background?) to the buoyant and breezy dancers of Ballet Cymru. One does not need to be Welsh to have fully appreciated the harmonious artistry of this uplifting event.
The evening was presented in two distinct parts, tied together by both being based on Matthews’ CD with the same enigmatic title as the programme; opening with an anthology of Thomas’s poetry interpreted in danced episodes, choreographed by the company’s Artistic Director Darius James and assistant AD Amy Doughty. These poems were read live by Matthews and the unique landscape of her expressive voice, adding intonation and suggestive impact to enhance the lyrical intimacy in the golden thread of Thomas’s words, was effectively supplemented by a range of instruments played live onstage by Arun Ghosh.
It has to be a brave challenge to take on the rampant emotional power of Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night and Death Shall Have No Dominion (and any of the other dozen or so poems for that matter) and translate them into choreography but this was a fine job. A series of dances reflected the expressive intent of the poetry, in turn ebullient, vivacious, cheerful, poignant, and intensely sad. It’s difficult to single any of it out for special mention but the tender duet between Beth Meadway and Krystal Lowe to Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night was breath-stopping in its intensity, a feeling of everything else being immaterial that was hugely enhanced by the captivating words, sung-spoken by an enchanting voice.
The anthological feel of the opening act was replaced by the consistent narrative of the second, with the whole act given over to A Child’s Christmas in Wales, a work in prose, completed by Thomas in 1952, the year before his death, as a child’s eye comedic reflection on Christmases past, full of nostalgia and idyllic memories fuelled by childish exaggeration (“It was snowing. It was always snowing at Christmas”). The words were again wonderful readings by Matthews, but this time her lilting Welsh musicality was delivered through her CD recordings of Thomas’s work.