The lady at the bus stop announced that she had just been to the ballet, and commented: “I didn’t really understand it but I loved it”. The ballet was A Midsummer Night’s Dream, performed by Northern Ballet, and yes, it was somewhat confusing, though highly enjoyable and very funny. Only the second act could be recognized as Shakespeare’s play, so there were quite a lot of bewildered audience members trying to work out what was going on in Act I.
But that’s the beauty of David Nixon, director and choreographer of the company. He always adds a twist to his ballets that keeps you alert and has you wondering what’s what in what should be a straightforward story. Nixon’s Dream is a little gem with many facets. Based on the tangled relationships of Shakespeare’s comedy, he provides moments of great comedy (something normally challenging in ballet terms), which keep the audience laughing, along with some beautiful pas de deux – to say nothing of stunning sets and costumes.
In this three-act ballet created in 2003, Nixon has wrapped the Dream inside a story about a post-war touring ballet company. We see the dancers putting finishing touches to their rehearsals of Romeo and Juliet under the watchful eyes of a cocky little ballet master named Robin Puck, who flits around the studio with his walking stick, ready to correct the dancers, and the dapper director of the company, Theseus (Oberon in Act II), who has to tell the prima ballerina Hippolyta (Titania) that she is passed the age for the role of Juliet. In fact, he assures her, it’s time to give up her satin pointe shoes and marry him. Almost convinced by his persuasive wooing, she suddenly decides she’s not ready for either, and leaves angrily – thus paving the way for the Dream quarrel scene. There are other romantic entanglements in the company – two other couples are having love troubles, Lysander and Hermia, Demetrius and Helena – and the overly large, buffoonish carpenter Nick Bottom hangs lovesick around the studio, hoping for a token glance from Hippolyta. The rehearsal proves a disaster, but, undaunted, the company packs its bags and sets off for the tour.
The first act is all black and white with magnificent costumes designed by Nixon himself – from practice-wear to evocative, chic Parisian fashion of flouncy full skirts, large hats, white gloves, with tailored suits for the men. The creative art nouveau set by Duncan Hayler sees the formal studio, with its ballet barre and mirrors, magically transform into the sleek Flying Scotsman, puffing smoke, and gleaming with shiny chrome and red lights.
It’s midsummer, the shortest night of the year, and when the dancers arrive at King’s Cross station, you know that there isn’t going to be much sleeping on the overnight train to Edinburgh. Doors open and shut and figures flit in and out of the cabins like a bedroom farce as the train shunts off and enters a tunnel.