Marcos Morau’s Romeo + Juliet, created last month for Opera Ballet Vlaanderen, is as far from what we might expect as you can get. Yet for all the deviations from the ballet's usual narrative, there are important observations that are very thought provoking.
Along with conductor Gavin Sutherland, Morau has kept much of Prokofiev’s score in tact, albeit not in its entirety (and there are a handful of soundscape interludes). However, the ‘big’ pieces – the balcony pas de deux, the Dance of the Knights and the emotional crypt scene, form part of a series of tableaux or episodes that depict the volatility of human nature.
Seen through the eyes of two children, they watch the scenes before them, they look at the future they are likely to inherit. It’s a tad depressing! The ballet opens with a vast ensemble of people pushing the red curtain as if it is a solid wall, a reference to Shakespeare’s As you Like It and the quote, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players”. It was a very powerful visual as the body of jostling people traversed the front of the stage as if bearing the weight of the world on their collective shoulders.
The stage looks like a futuristic portal in an alternative universe. Set designs by Max Glaenzel and lighting by Bernat Jansà create a stark, almost menacing atmosphere. Everyone is dressed in black (costumes by Silvia Delagneau), mostly with voluminous skirts that obscure legs and feet. This suits Morau’s movement vocabulary, which focuses on the upper body: torso, neck and back bends. At first the jerky, quirky twitching seemed reminiscent of some sort of physical Tourettes’ but as the piece progressed, so the movements grew until the group of dancers’ fitful manoeuvres in unison made a truly compelling impression.
An important note: there are no main protagonists in this version. No Romeo or Juliet, Mercutio or Tybalt. Perhaps the two children represent the names of the title but it seems that in this other world, they are all Romeos, Juliets and Tybalts. The premise is that each of us is capable of love and violence in equal measure. And there is a great deal of aggression brewing at any given moment.
I wrote notes that included frenzied running (a lot), shouting, hysterical laughter, screaming, death and unbelievably flexible backs. At one point towards the end, the dancers start pulling up the floor panels of the stage. In an extraordinary way, the choreography does reflect the music though it is challenging to drop with tradition and embrace the new. One dancer (Rune Verbilt) appeared to be a guardian angel, protecting the children from the worst of human behaviours. Verbilt is a big talent, still very young but he performed with a maturity and conviction well beyond his years.
The production lasts one hour 20 minutes without an interval. It was such an intense experience that not having an interval was beneficial. It required absolute concentration to try and compute the rollercoaster of emotions to which we were subjected. It’s not a production that incites the elation of first love, the tragedy of miscommunication or hatred that results in death. Rather, it is an astute depiction of the fickleness of human beings, the eruptive and inflammatory decisions we make on a whim and the close line drawn between conflicting emotions, the balance of control. Overall, it was rather a doom-laden vision of our future. We are not always very nice to each other.
Morau is one of those choreographers who is an acquired taste. Once you let go of preconceptions and fully engage with what he is trying to say, how he interprets this through his very individual choreographic language, it becomes much more intriguing. Like Sharon Eyal or Marco Goecke, the movement style is instantly recognisable and ultimately immersive.
The company absorb all of this in a wholly admirable way and combined with the Symfonisch Orkest Opera Ballet Vlaanderen under Sutherland’s expert baton, it felt like a lived experience rather than a performance where the stage seems firmly separated from the audience. Perhaps not a joyous evening, then, but one offering plenty of food for thought.
Deborah's press trip to Antwerp was funded by Opera Ballet Vlaanderen
