Carlos Acosta’s final commission for Birmingham Royal Ballet in his trilogy (City of a Thousand Trades, Black Sabbath – The Ballet) brings to the stage Luna, a ballet in six scenes, by five international female choreographers combined with a creative team who are also all women. This was Acosta’s drive to redress the balance between works that have been historically dominated by male artists and choreographers within the industry.
Inspired by Louise Palfreyman’s book Once Upon a Time in Birmingham: Women Who Dared to Dream, it celebrates the lives of 30 pioneering women and was published to mark the centenary of women’s suffrage. It is essentially an abstract work that reflects female empowerment under the watchful eye of Luna, the goddess of the moon. ‘Inspiration’ is key here because while there are obvious nods to individuals, the overall production is thematic rather than narrative. It’s ambitious and doesn’t always cohere, but there is much to admire. First and foremost is the dancing, Kate Whitley’s sweeping score, extraordinary projections and video design by Hayley Egan, vivid costume designs by Imaan Ashraf and some impressive individual performances.
It was never going to be straightforward working with choreographers from different backgrounds and trying to assemble a full-length work with a linear outcome. One could argue though, that this enabled the individual voices to emerge and present an evening full of diversity.
Whitley’s task must have been daunting as she set out to deliver the expectations of each choreographer. She says that ultimately the responsibility was to tailor the needs of each because, “All of the shapes come from the music.” This was in evidence from the start. Wubkje Kuindersma began with Terra. It was a seasonal expression depicting the cycles of the moon and the changes in the tides, with a momentous opener of a children’s chorus singing, “I am the sea, and I have something to say.” They are joined by the dancers, led by the excellent Yu Kurihara and Lachlan Monaghan, in a series of fluid movements and unifying ensemble work that aptly echoed the score. In addition, soprano Marianna Hovanisyan and baritone Themba Mvula contributed much to the atmosphere with a richness to their voices that was a highlight of the entire performance.
Seeta Patel’s Learning to Dream Big followed in a scene that was the closest to storytelling. With a group of young girls expressing their aspirations: one a conductor, another a doctor, an activist and so on, I’m not always keen on adults’ attempts to portray children and here, in spite of their best efforts, it came across as contrived. There were also some slightly surprising musical interludes: an arrangement of Beethoven’s Fifth for the wannabe conductor, and a blast of the theme music from the BBC’s hospital drama, Casualty, for the doctor-in-waiting.
The third scene, Unwavering, by Thaís Suárez, made the most impact. Focusing on a woman who is trying to transform adversity into success and liberty, there were a number of reasons why this scene provoked powerful emotions. Whitley’s arrangement of Gabriel Fauré’s Requiem was superlative, added to which Hovanisyan and Mvula were transporting once again. Further star turns came from Beatrice Parma and Javier Rojas in an anguished duet that was memorable, in part due to their physical strength, the chemistry and rapport, but mostly because of the blatant emotional investment.
The second half opened with Arielle Smith’s Empowerment for eight women, led by Rosanna Ely. Smith is proving to be a choreographer of great merit and much of the movement is mellifluous and dynamic. This may not have been her most startling accomplishment to date, but it was pleasingly aesthetic.
Iratxe Ansa claims she was inspired by the monochrome work of artist Barbara Walker in her Overexposed. Suggesting that women can often feel overlooked or invisible, Parma was once again the centre of attention in her red dress, being manipulated by men who resemble mummies with bandaged heads. If she felt she wasn’t being heard, by the time the bandages came off, she seemed to be in charge and together with Riku Ito, delivered some of the most innovative lifts and passages of really intriguing choreography.
Kuindersma was in charge of the closing scene, Luna. Expertly crafted, the full cast reconvened, as it were, to reach for the stars. The children sang again and the choreography had real heft. Yet for all the good elements offered, it felt a little bit like throwing a whole wardrobe of clothes into a suitcase without folding a single item.
Yi Wei, conducting a magnificent Royal Ballet Sinfonia, brought majesty to the performance, yet audiences can expect to wander through this spectacle rather than feel emotionally exalted. Hats off to BRB's fabulous dancers though and especially to all the women involved.
