A bunch of new-wave ballerinas have borrowed what they can from cabaret and high fashion to update a classic Andrew Gilder
The Fantastic Flying Fish Dance Company is no stranger to controversy. Its policy of following an “in-your-face” approach to choreography and production has garnered criticism from colleagues, public and press alike – most commonly from those within the laager of classical ballet.
The question arises then why Romeo and Juliet: The Star Crossed Lovers is drawing an equal proportion of censure and praise from observers at both poles of the South African dance debate.
The work is notable within the Flying Fish oeuvre precisely for the reason that it does not, intentionally, stray into controversy. The pas de deux were created by artistic director Mark Hawkins, while resident choreographer David Gouldie made the ensemble moments.
Gouldie has developed a choreographic individuality over the past few years, yet not much of this signature is apparent in Romeo and Juliet.
Best realised are the extended trios between Romeo, Mercutio and Benvolio (Robin van Wyk, Ebrahim Medell and Norbert Gertse respectively). The fast-paced wit, typical of Mercutio in the play, is clearly expressed as he goads the dreamy Romeo into gatecrashing the Capulet’s party. The movement is dynamic and virile, with unexpected shapes appearing and swiftly changing as the dancers fling themselves over, across and under each other. The comedy set up in their first interaction operates as an effective foil for the later pathos surrounding Mercutio’s death.
Gouldie’s trademark idiosyncrasy is most apparent in the ballroom scene, set to Prokoviev’s distinctive “grande” chords. Intricate arm arrangements – reminiscent of a music video – are woven together with provocatively thrusting hips that would not be out of place in a cheeky cabaret. The men drop to the floor while the women strut serenely over them, arms sweeping wide.
For crowd sequences, Gouldie has used a series of free-flowing lifts and counter- lifts. Loose-limbed jumps, often initiated from an energetic run rather than a formal dance preparation, consume the space as the performers launch themselves, and land, with relaxed abandon. Street brawling rather than nimble fencing characterises the fight scenes.
Hawkins, on the other hand, has utilised a lyrical classicism. The duets probably take this form because they were created specifically for the paring of Van Wyk and Mary-Anne de Wet (Juliet). Both dancers feel more comfortable without the restraint of strict classical or contemporary style and the lyricism suits them.
Van Wyk, on leave from his regular position as a principal dancer with Cape Town City Ballet, is technically secure and a believably smitten young lover. De Wet is no stranger to Juliet, having previously performed the role in Ashley Killar’s version. This experience counts most in Juliet’s solo moments of tormented decision-making, as De Wet consummately synthesises her dancing with the acting that her role demands.
Other notable moments are provided by a comic portrayal of the Nurse (Cheryl Burger), and the steely aggression of Anatole Babenko’s Tybalt. Gerhard Pienaar’s Friar Laurence is a New Age mystic, while Thulebona Mzizi’s Paris is suitably affected by events.
Veteran actor and director Robert Whitehead was brought in to direct. His knowledge of the original text kept Gouldie on the path of clear storytelling without straying into the abstract. Sarah Roberts’s white setting – bounded by a broad, silver band within which the action unravels – is stark, yet functional. The set provides a suitable canvas for the lighting design, created by Michael Broderick and Brandon Bunyan, which is integral to the work’s atmosphere. The costumes are a festive fusion of colours and styles from two top Durban fashion designers, Colleen Eitzen and Amanda Laird- Cherry.
The production is not without flaws. The frenetic pace of the Capulet/Montague confrontation that opens the show is overlong and very busy, resulting in a diminution of its impact. The difference in choreographic voices between Hawkins and Gouldie can be jarring to continuity of form. This dichotomy is propounded, by some, as the reason the work is neither a classical nor a contemporary recounting of the story – but rather an unsatisfactory conglomeration of approaches.
The staging and costuming have come in for similar criticism. Other comments condemn the piece for being not subversive enough given the company’s normal “modus operandi”.
There is some merit in these assessments, particularly those that express disappointment at a choreography that is more traditional than the usual Flying Fish fare. It would have been illuminating to see where a more notional, less linear rendition could have gone. For example, much of the narrative is promoted through the use of mime. The communication of these ideas through danced movement could extend the vocabulary of the work. Juliet’s moments of indecision are ripe areas for this treatment.
But warm response has come in equal measure. The unanimous reaction of other dancers has been positive – always a good sign. Audiences have enthused about individual performances and the innovative and colourful staging – the apparent confusion in the costuming only reflective of the profusion of influences on international fashion catwalks.
One has only to look at the Spring/Summer 2001 collection of a designer like Jean- Paul Gaultier to see a similar eclecticism of ideas.
Flying Fish have managed, probably without directly so intending, to produce a work that has become a source of intense debate. Like most of their work, it is impossible to see Romeo and Juliet: The Star Crossed Lovers and not be moved – either to disdain or praise. It is definitely worth seeing, even if only to determine into which category one’s own reaction will fall.
The production is at the Roodepoort City Theatre from November1 to 4, the Bloemfontein Civic Theatre on November 7 and 8 and at the Drama Theatre of the Natal Playhouse from December 13 to 30