Although one of the indelible masterpieces of English literature, Jane Eyre is a complex work to translate into dance theatre, and few choreographers have attempted the challenge. Patrick de Bana’s production for Shanghai Ballet (seen in London, in 2013) and Nicola Tongue’s adventurous version for London Children’s Ballet, in 2008, are rare examples to set alongside this interpretation by Cathy Marston, which was premiered by Northern Ballet some eight years’ ago.
Marston’s take on Jane Eyre fits appropriately into Northern Ballet’s strong tradition of narrative dance theatre and given Charlotte Brontë’s setting of somewhere in the North of England, the Leeds-based company must be geographically best-placed to own a ballet based on her novel.
Inevitably, for such a complex narrative, with seventeen named roles, there is a confusing array of character introductions during the first act, which only those with an exam-ready appreciation of the novel are likely to comprehend. That said, Marston is one of the best storytellers in movement and mime and her take on Brontë’s masterpiece is likely to please Jane Eyre aficionados.
The ballet begins with a prologue that is taken from late in the story when Jane is fleeing from Thornfield Hall, having discovered that Rochester is already married, and rescued from the snow-covered moors by the Reverend St. John Rivers. This action is repeated late in the second act. All that follows is represented as flashbacks in the mind of the adult Jane (Sarah Chun), beginning with the potentially confusing scene of her standing on an upstage platform while the younger version of herself (Rachael Gillespie) acts out her memories below, the clue being in their similar dresses.
There are far more clever devices in Marston’s choreography than I can mention in this brief review but her introduction of Rochester, late in act one, provides an excellent summary of his initially cold character as he “rides” into the Thornfield estate, indicated simply by thrashing a whip on the ground, before collapsing into a monumental armchair. Marston's use of thematic manoeuvres for each main character was memorable as was her focus on leg movements to illustrate the development of the romance between Rochester and Jane; initially Rochester extended a leg to control Jane but eventually their interaction became a playful “pat-a-cake” footsy game.
Miguel Teixeira gave a strong account as Brontë’s brooding hero, Mr Rochester, providing the appropriate, pivotal chemistry with Chun’s enigmatic portrayal of the title character. Teixeira also enjoyed a rousing duet, early in the second act, with Kaho Masumoto as the gold-digging Blanche Ingram, a socialite who hopes to marry Rochester.
This ballet amply demonstrates Marston’s world-class ability to choreograph descriptive romantic duets and there are half-a-dozen beautiful pas de deux, including memorable finales in both acts, which were passionate in their sophisticated flow and replete with innovative movements and lifts.
Alessia Petrosino gave a compelling performance as Rochester’s tragic and pyromaniacal first wife, Bertha, who escapes from her attic prison to burn down the Hall in Patrick Kinmonth’s effective scene d’action. Harriet Marden’s cameo appearances as Berthe’s drunken nurse, Grace Poole, provided momentary humorous escapes. Jackson Dwyer gave an upright portrayal as St. John Rivers, dressed as Sherlock Holmes without the deerstalker, who intended to capitalise on Jane’s flight from Thornfield by marrying her on the rebound from Rochester. Marston’s duet for Jane and Rivers is an effective colder contrast to the passionate heat for those of Jane with Rochester.
Elsewhere in this excellent cast, Heather Lehan gave a cheerful, inquisitive portrayal of the kindly Housekeeper, Mrs Fairfax; Julie Nunès was perfect as the excitable child, Adèle; and Saeka Shirai has an all-too-brief turn as Jane’s consumptive school friend, Helen Burns. Inevitably, when such a long and detailed novel is distilled into a two-act ballet, some significant characters are reduced to cameos and some scenarios are adapted for the sake of narrative clarity.
Live music is always to be welcomed and the orchestra, directed by guest conductor Lauren Wasynczuk, gave an exciting account of Philip Feeney’s outstanding score, which is both descriptive and suitably romantic for those passionate duets. The piano themes were particularly delightful.
Patrick Kinmonth’s costumes were evocative of period, but I was less impressed by the set design, which didn’t provide any particular sense of place, whether in the Institution for orphaned girls, freezing on the moors or at Thornfield Hall; and I also questioned the narrative value of the group of six men who regularly hovered around the action, either as some form of ethereal guides or as party guests.
When I reviewed the London premiere of this ballet, almost exactly seven years ago, I declared it to be a work that I would like to see kept in the company’s regular repertoire of full-length narrative ballets since it would reward repeat viewings. This revival has reinforced that opinion.
