Saturday, February 18, 2017

WOOLF WORKS Works On Stage, Screen And CD... Living the past again

Nearly two years ago, we took the plunge - in the year of trying new things artistically - and went to Covent Garden to see WOOLF WORKS, a new Royal Ballet production choreographed by Wayne McGregor.  I remember feeling some trepidation... Virginia Woolf is one of my favourite authors for whom language is the key so how can you silence that but still make it relevant?  Two words... Wayne McGregor.

As you can see from my blog it had a profound effect on us both and it did indeed start a continuing exploration of ballet which has been very rewarding.  But how would the first revival of WOOLF WORKS compare - and would it have the same impact?

I am happy to be able to say that it led to a deeper, richer understanding of the work but also there was the added bonus this year of seeing it on the big screen at the Curzon Mayfair and also being able to appreciate the depth of Max Richter's music with it's release on cd.

Onstage we were blessed with practically the same cast as in 2015, the only major replacement being Calvin Richardson and his breathtaking pirouettes dancing the role of 'Evans' for the unwell Tristan Dyer in the MRS. DALLOWAY-inspired 'I Now, I Then'.  The impact of seeing the company onstage was made even more exciting by seeing the same dancers a few days later on the live cinema screening, giving an opportunity to experience their talent closer than possible at the Opera House although there was some loss too, in particular the glorious digital stage image of the garden of Clarissa's imagined youth flooding the set.

McGregor has choreographed three ballets in distinct styles: 'I Now, I Then' is the most narrative; based on MRS DALLOWAY - and introduced with the only known recording of Virginia Woolf musing on the difficulty of using old English words in new ways - we see Clarissa Dalloway (sublime Alessandra Ferri) meeting old flame Peter Walsh (Gary Aves) and relives the glorious summer she spent as a teenager with Peter and her best friend, the free spirited Sally Seton, and how life seemed full of possibility and choice.  The younger selves were danced wonderfully by Francesca Hayward, Federico Bonelli and Beatriz Stix-Brunell.

As Clarissa is lost in memories of what could have been we also see Septimus Smith (the astonishing Edward Watson) who is tortured with the lasting trauma of shell-shock from his experience in the WWI trenches.  His wife Rezia (Akana Takada) tries to keep him engaged in life but he is lost in memories of his friend Evans (Richardson) who was killed before him.  It is a perfect fusion of performance, choreography, design by Cigué, lighting by Lucy Carter - the moment the stage was suffused with glowing red when Septimus danced with Evans was glorious - and, almost a character of it's own, Max Richter's heartbreaking, longing music.

The second act 'Becomings' takes ORLANDO as it's inspiration and is the most abstract of the pieces although during one of the intervals for the screened event Wayne McGregor was interviewed by hosts Darcey Bussell and Clemency Burton-Hill and said he believed that no dance can be truly abstract as the human element will always lend a dance a narrative sense.  Again Lucy Carter's lighting is thrilling: an overhead beam roams the dark stage picking out 12 dancers in varying degrees of glittering gold Elizabethan costumes before a cold laser beam illuminates two of them and we launch into McGregor's take on Woolf's exploration of gender fluidity.

As Richter's music roams from bone-crunching electro beats to minimal keyboard runs so McGregor's choreography changes from solos to duets to triple routines for his remarkable dancers - pushing their limbs into even more challenging shapes and attitudes; the exhilaration is in seeing male and female dancers fusing into just pure dance.  With each segment, they slowly lose their Elizabethan costumes until they are in shades of grey, all dancing in and out of four overhead spotlights, all individual but all unified, until the lights cut out and the auditorium is criss-crossed with shafts of laserlight.  Again the live screening was wonderful to showcase in detail the astonishing work of, among others, Sarah Lamb, Natalia Osipova, Steven McRae and Watson.

The final act is TUESDAY and takes it inspiration from THE WAVES but also references Woolf's suicide note written on Tuesday 25th March 1941, three days before she actually drowned in the River Ouse.  McGregor has the inspired choice of Gillian Anderson reading the wrenching suicide note while a slow-motion film of crashing waves shows on a stage-wide screen all but dwarfing the stationary figure of Ferri beneath.  Anderson's measured, hypnotic delivery leads you in to McGregor's slow meditation on love and loss, beautifully danced by Ferri and Federico Bonelli who are later joined by Sarah Lamb and an ensemble which also includes young students from the Royal Ballet School.

Ferri is astonishing in her poetry and control as she becomes the embodiment of Richter's dreamlike, ethereal music, solitary notes slowly coming together with Anush Hovhannisyan's soprano to wash over you with waves of strings and brass.  There was one moment that haunts me: Alessandra Ferri starts a solo movement against the ensemble's choreography who slowly, three or four at a time, echo her until they are all bending and stretching as one, it's breathtakingly beautiful.  Slowly the ensemble ebb away into the darkness at the back of the stage, as Bonelli lowers a prone Ferri onto the stage as the music slowly vanishes note by note...

As I have said, the live screening was a wonderful opportunity to see the dancers closer than possible in the theatre and there were the added extras of interviews with Wayne McGregor and Max Richter as well as Maggie Smith reading passages from THE WAVES as well as Virginia's memoir MOMENTS OF BEING.

As I have written this I have been able to relive the experience by playing the cd THREE WORLDS of Richter's score; I wondered if it would work separately from the experience of seeing it with the dancers but it works beautifully.  It has been great to be able to explore this work in depth for the past two weeks - I would love the opportunity to see it again.

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

HEDDA GABLER at the Lyttelton, National Theatre - Ruth Wilson Scores With A Hedda....

I really wrestled with seeing Ivo van Hove's production of Ibsen's HEDDA GABLER, his first for the National Theatre.  Yes I loved his revival of Miller's A VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE with it's bold performances and pressure-cooker atmosphere but I had squirmed through his production of the David Bowie musical LAZARUS.

However word of mouth that this was one to see had me scouring the sold-out seating plans on the National website until I found two returns in the stalls.  I was glad I changed my mind because for all his obvious Director Theatre tropes, van Hove delivered a scorching revival.  

As with his VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE, van Hove has stripped the play down to the bare bones and shone a bright, white searchlight on the characters leaving them mercilessly exposed to our view.  Luckily, van Hove has still allowed for Patrick Marber's sardonic, sarcastic humour in his translation to pierce the action but as Ibsen's plot gathers momentum then his trademark high-level tension starts to ratchet up.

As usual the production is designed and lit by van Hove's partner Jan Versweyveld - I wonder if their home matches their theatrical aesthetic?  Minimalist spaces and the odd chair or couch... it would be fun if the van Hove home is actually packed with kitsch.  Versweyveld gives the production a soulless room with cold whitewashed walls, empty apart from a couch and chair, a table, an overly-designed table lamp, a large piano and incongruous buckets of fresh-cut flowers.  Oddly enough it works, suggesting not only the new home that Hedda is trapped in now she is married to the loving but petulant academic Tesman but also the emptiness she feels in the relationship. 

Six months married and finally back from their honeymoon, it is clear to Hedda that she has miscalculated; the spoilt daughter of a domineering General who panicked at his death and, not getting any younger, agreed to marry Tesman in the belief that he would be successful and keep her in the style she is accustomed to.  To her disgust she finds he is already suggesting economies in their lifestyle and that he has been supported while growing up by his Aunt Julie whom Hedda finds a bore.  Even their dream home is built on a lie - Hedda had told Tesman she would love to live there when they walked past it as she had run out of things to say!

In denial that she might be pregnant, Hedda turns her attention to manipulating the lives of those around her namely Thea Elvstead and Ejlert Lovborg.  Hedda had tormented Thea while growing up but pretends to be a friend after learning that she has left her husband to help Hedda's one-time suitor Ejlert Lovborg to stop drinking and finish his academic masterpiece that could win him a coveted job over Tesman.  The only person immune to Hedda's manipulations is the cynical Judge Brack, another longtime friend of hers who can match her deceptions easily.

To Thea's dismay, Lovborg gives in to Hedda's taunts and starts drinking before joining Tesman at Judge Brack's house for a lad's night out.  In the early hours Tesman arrives home and tells Hedda that Brack moved his guest to the local brothel and on the way Lovborg drunkenly dropped his manuscript but Tesman found it and gives it to Hedda for safekeeping.  Like her father's pistols which are never far from her side, Hedda has been handed a loaded gun but her shot ricochets back on her...

In a constant state of ferocious intensity, Ruth Wilson was magnificent as Hedda; crackling like an overhead train cable in the rain, she roamed the stage like a trapped panther, dripping scorn even when attempting to compliment others - only quiet finally when trapped by Brack in the trap of her own making.  Wilson has always been a strong stage actress but this was a particular triumph.

There were strong supporting performances too from Sinead Matthews as Thea Elvstead (nasty frock though), Kate Duchene as Aunt Juliana and Éva Magyar as the ever-watchful maid Berthe.  The men proved a bit more uneven: Rafe Spall was a snide, loutish Judge Brack - although he was effective against Wilson a little more shade would have been welcome, Kyle Soller's Tesman was less of a puppy-dog than usual but Chukwudi Iwuji as Lovborg was two-dimensional.

As I said van Hove's direction was watertight but for each good directorial touch - Hedda 'decorating' with handfuls of flowers and a nailgun - there were ones that stuck out as too distracting: the supporting cast took forever to board up a large onstage window before the last act for no particular reason while Brack's pouring and spitting the contents of a can of tomato juice over Hedda as a visual illustration of his final power over her was just heavy-handed.  I could also have done without the blasts of Joni Mitchell's 'Blue' between scenes...  how 60s.

These clumpy moments apart, van Hove's HEDDA GABLER blew the clutter off the usual Ibsenisms away to deliver a thrilling, highly-strung experience.

HEDDA GABLER will screen in cinemas in the UK, Europe and the US as part of National Theatre Live on 9th March - to find a cinema near you, click on the picture below:

Sunday, February 05, 2017

DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY at Charing Cross Theatre - Time Out Of Life...

Thom Southerland's latest production as artistic director of the Charing Cross Theatre is the hitherto unseen 2011 musical DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY with a score by Maury Yeston and a book by Peter Stone and Thomas Meehan.  This follows on from Southerland's past success with Yeston's musicals GRAND HOTEL and TITANIC but sadly DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY is one of diminished returns.

After the success of TITANIC Yeston and bookwriter Peter Stone wanted a smaller canvas to work on and the release of the Brad Pitt turkey MEET JOE BLACK drove them back to that film's source material, LA MORTE IN VACANZA a 1924 Italian play which later became the Broadway success DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY and subsequent film starring Fredric March.

The musical took an astonishing 14 years from initial idea to stage and ironically one of the hold-ups was Peter Stone's death in 2003.  Yeston chose Broadway writer Thomas Meehan to complete the work but I felt this is reflected in the script which refuses to - um... - come to life.  Meehan's natural style is in musical comedy - ANNIE, THE PRODUCERS, HAIRSPRAY - so the existential drama of Death observing human reactions to him are an uncomfortable fit.

A rich Italian family are returning to their villa after celebrating their daughter's engagement but she is thrown from one of the cars as it spins out of the control, she is surprisingly unharmed from this accident.  A shadowy figure had been seen before the accident and the man later appears at the villa and reveals to the father that he is Death, still recovering from the exhaustion of his labours during the First World War and wishing to spend time with humans wanting to understand his effect on them and their dreams.

Disguised as a Russian prince, Death spends time with the family and guests but feels an unmistakable attraction for the daughter Grazia who is drawn to the mysterious stranger too, much to the anger of her fiancee Corrado.  Among the guests are the widow and best friend of Grazia's brother who was killed in the war and they both feel uneasy in the stranger's presence.  Nothing can stop Grazia's attraction to Death however, and as news filters through that no-one has died in the world since the week before, Grazia must decide where her future lies...

The allegorical source material is so unique that the chamber musical must hit the right tone and it is this that the production struggles with.  Southerland's direction and the cast are certainly po-faced but despite Matt Daw's atmospheric lighting and Morgan Large's economical but persuasive crumbling Italian villa, the production is let down by several ungainly performances and the downbeat, thin book.

Maury Yeston's score is certainly awash with doomy romance but too often it sounded like his TITANIC score: the solo number "Roberto's Eyes" sung by the dead son's friend as he describes a fatal plane crash was an almost note-for-note copy of TITANIC's "Mr Andrew's Vision" where the last moments of the ship are recounted.  The romantic ballads were too interchangeable and again a duet for an elderly loving couple only reminded one of the similar song for TITANIC'S Mr and Mrs Strauss.  Yeston is a good composer but bearing in mind how long the show took to write one would have hoped for more originality.

The cast with their cut-glass, stage school accents did little to suggest a Venetian family - Henley-On-Thames yes, Venice no.  There was also too little variety of performance across the quite large cast of 14, when they all crowded onto the set at times it made me think that a few characters could easily have been dropped to concentrate the attention more on the lead roles.

American actor Chris Peluso was a bit too lightweight to convince as Death as he hung around like a lovesick teenager at an ex's wedding but it was the performance of Zoe Doano as Grazia which made the production so earthbound, her shrill singing and showroom dummy performance did nothing to suggest Grazia's conflict in choosing life or death - she barely suggested if the choice was between red or clear nail varnish.  There were nice performances from James Gant as the butler Fidele, fearful of the new guest after finding out his secret, and Scarlett Courtney as a guest quietly in love with Grazia's fiancee but they shone only occasionally

There is a musical lurking within DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY but I suspect a few more years might be needed to get it exactly right, and certainly a new writer revisiting the source play.

Nice poster though... 

Sunday, January 22, 2017

150 word review: A FAMILY AND IT'S FORTUNES by Rachel Kempson

Essential reading for any fan of the actress or the Redgraves but more impartial readers may find Kempson's style too opaque to be fully enjoyable.

Rachel Kempson had a strange habit of being in the right place professionally at the wrong time personally; whenever she discovered she was pregnant with any of her three children she had to leave a promising season of roles so her career had a frustrating stop-start quality to it.

In her book, Kempson muses on her regret at missing out on a more high-level acting career but seems to have found a contentment in being Michael's wife and Vanessa, Corin and Lynn's mother.

While her discretion is understandable in discussing Michael's bisexuality, it is by reading between the lines that her sadness at his frequent disappearances is evident, even when she later reveals a long-running extra-marital affair with an unnamed actor.

Thursday, January 19, 2017

THE RED BARN at the Lyttelton Theatre - dead behind the eyes...

After what has seemed an interminable wait - 19 DAYS! - I have broken my 2017 theatrical duck.  By the way Constant Reader, don't you think 2017 is a very ugly number?  Hopefully that doesn't influence the next 50-odd weeks.  I also hope THE RED BARN does not prove an omen for my theatre-going this year... oops, showed my hand there eh?

David Hare grew up reading the novels of George Simenon and found himself drawn to the writer's stand-alone psychological thrillers more than his Maigret crime novels and now he has adapted the little-known novel "La Main" (The Hand) for the National Theatre stage.  I know what he means.. give me the stand-alone novels of Ruth Rendell of a seemingly normal person going wrong over the neatly-packaged Inspector Wexford books. 

THE RED BARN is the National Theatre debut of director Robert Icke who is the new *hot* director at the Almeida and his production shows all the signs of a director being given all the opportunities the National Theatre can offer - video projections, elaborate scenery possibilities and lighting, special effects...  The trouble is when these are what one remembers of the piece itself...

THE RED BARN is set in a Connecticut town in 1969, the seemingly unflappable community hides a jittery, nervous feeling of unwanted change in the country while on the verge of Richard Nixon's presidency.  Two married couples - Donald and Ingrid Dodd, Ray and Mona Sanders - attend a dinner party which takes an embarrassing turn when Donald stumbles unseen upon Ray having sex with the host's wife.  They all leave the party early due to a flash snowstorm but Ray vanishes when they all have to walk the last mile back to the Dodd's home.

Donald braves the storm again but returns after an hour without Ray and, so Mona will not be alone, Ingrid arranges that they all sleep on mattresses by the fire.  Days later, the snow is cleared and Ray is found dead.  However in the Dodd's nearby barn, the Police also discover a number of cigarette butts which lead to Donald confessing to be his - rather than hunt for Ray during the storm he sheltered in the barn for over an hour smoking.

His motives for this are possibly shown when, while visiting Mona in her Manhattan apartment to offer his professional help, they start a sexual relationship.  However it's not long before Donald starts to slowly become engulfed by his emotions and secrets and when, Mona casually tells him that she is going to marry another man, he suspects that somehow Ingrid is behind it all...

It certainly sounds like a well-told tale; the plot feels very old-fashioned for such a prestige production which might explain the flashy look of Icke's production.  The stars of the show are actually Bunny Christie's set design and Paule Constable's moody, atmospheric lighting - a massive shout-out too for the Lyttelton's tech crew who make the filmic quality of Icke's production work.

But - and it's a very big but - it feels like the one thing Icke is reticent to do is give us a thriller.  Oh no... that's too obvious, too common - no this, is an existential, slow-moving story of the destruction of a dull man's psyche.  The fact that the play features two deaths hardly registers in the frigid air atmosphere.   It all felt like one of those independent films where acting is dialed down to a minimum, the score is usually 'ironic' use of pop songs and the cinematography tends to linger on 'artistic' static set-ups just a little too long. 

The actors do not pull focus under this poe-faced concept (imagine Pinter meets Dennis Lehane): Mark Strong is obvious casting for Donald bearing in mind his last stage role was as the equally obsessed Eddie Carbone in VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE and with his unprepossessing brown wig and nerdy glasses he hardly seems equipped for the passion that allegedly grips him in his desire for his dead friend's wife.  But Strong is playing him on such a low light that his despair rarely registers, apart from an overly dramatic STAGGER SLUMP as he leaves Mona for the last time.

Hope Davis as Donald's emotionally controlled wife Ingrid certainly gives her an icy exterior but again is played in such a colourless way that you cannot care for her.  However she does make some impression, which is more than can be said for Elizabeth Debicki as the recently widowed Mona.  Her banal performance leaves you utterly clueless as to why Donald would throw up his life to be with her - he would surely be equally at home with a showroom mannequin.  I am sure she is supposed to be a blank canvas that Donald projects all his fantasies on but any interior life is totally missing from her phoned-in performance.

As I said the real star of the show is it's design; Bunny Christie has utilized black screens that move up and down, left and right to create a theatrical version of film pans and zooms which makes it enjoyable to watch - although this technique for making a show more filmic is not original - and has also designed the set to change in an instant: from the long and low cabin of the Dodds, to the Sanders' wide open and expansive Manhattan apartment.

Paule Constable's moody and atmospheric lighting is almost too much at times - in the final scene you are squinting at the stage to make out what is going on in the log cabin - but she does deliver, and Tom Gibbons' soundscape comes into it's own at the end, sounding louder and more discordant to signal to you that something shocking is about to happen.... and it does. If it had not been for this you would hardly be aware there was about to be a violent conclusion as Icke's production is played at such a glacial rate.

Something which only struck me later was how insidiously misogynistic it was - Donald is seemingly trapped between the primly efficient Ingrid (who looked astonishingly like Hilary Clinton at times from where I was sitting) and the icy beanpole Mona.  The drama is all his and after the offstage afternoon sex scene between Mona and Donald it is of course Debicki who enters topless... why?  What did that possibly add to the scene bearing in mind Strong was fully clothed.  Added to the violence of the climactic act it really did make me wonder on whether this crossed Hare or Icke's mind at all.

Thursday, January 05, 2017


Don't be put off by the monumental size of Lahr's biography of the landmark playwright, this truly is a magnificently involving and engrossing read.

Lahr opens with the opening night of THE GLASS MENAGERIE on Broadway which launched Williams as the most promising post-war American playwright, and through detailed analysis of his subsequent successes and, in later years, increasing failures, also reveals the troubled man behind the work.

Lahr draws fascinating parallels between the private life and public writing showing Williams to be the most autobiographical of playwrights, wrestling with family and lovers through his fictional characters.

Williams emerges as a troubled man whose self-destructive relationships with their closest to him - lover Frank Merlo, director Elia Kazan, agent Audrey Wood - make him hard to admire but under Lahr's forensic gaze easier to understand.

With unprecedented access to archives of letters and diaries, Lahr has written an unforgettable biography.

Wednesday, January 04, 2017

The 10th Annual Chrissie Awards - the red carpet awaits...

Time to dig out that old Balenciaga and the dinner jacket with the shiny lapels (and backside) - it's only the 10th Annual Chrissies... the award that all the West End wants...

BEST DRAMA (Original/Revival)
RICHARD III - William Shakespeare (Almeida)

THE DEEP BLUE SEA - Rattigan (Lyttelton) / ELLEN TERRY WITH EILEEN ATKINS - Atkins/Shakespeare (Sam Wanamaker) / KENNY MILLER - Poulson (Arcola) / THE PLOUGH AND THE STARS - O'Casey (Lyttelton)
BEST MUSICAL (Original/Revival)
SHOW BOAT - Jerome Kern / Oscar Hammerstein II (Sheffield & New London)
RAGTIME - Flaherty / Ahrens / McNally (Charing Cross Theatre) / SHE LOVES ME - Bock / Harnick / Masteroff (Menier) / THE THREEPENNY OPERA - Brecht / Weill / Stephens (Olivier) / TITANIC - Yeston (Charing Cross Road)
THE RED SHOES - Matthew Bourne (Sadler's Wells)
LA FILLE MAL GARDÉE - Ashton (Covent Garden) / TOSCA - Puccini (London Coliseum) / LA TRAVIATA - Verdi (Covent Garden) / THE WINTER'S TALE - Wheeldon (Covent Garden)
  RALPH FIENNES - Richard III (Almeida)
O-T FAGBENLE (Ma Rainey's Black Bottom) / DAVID MORRISSEY (Hangman) / LUCIAN MSAMATI (Amadeus) / LUCIAN MSAMANTI (Ma Rainey's Black Bottom)
HELEN McCRORY - The Deep Blue Sea (Lyttelton)

EILEEN ATKINS (Ellen Terry with Eileen Atkins) / SHARON D. CLARKE (Ma Rainey's Black Bottom) / LISA DWAN (No's Knife) / GLENDA JACKSON (King Lear)
BEST ACTOR (Musical)
RORY KINNEAR - The Threepenny Opera (Olivier)

PAUL AYRES (Kinky Boots) / EUAN GARRETT (Billy Elliot) / HARRY HEPPLE (Into The Woods) / MICHAEL XAVIER (Show Boat)
  SCARLETT STRALLEN - She Loves Me (Menier)


STEVE PEMBERTON - Dead Funny (Savoy)

FINBAR LYNCH (Richard III) / ANDY NYMAN (Hangman) / DOMINIC ROWAN (The Tempest) / PETER SULLIVAN (The Deep Blue Sea)

VANESSA REDGRAVE - Richard III (Almeida)

LINDA BASSETT (Escaped Alone) / SUSAN ENGEL (Richard III) / BRONWYN JAMES (Hangmen) / GRÁINNE KEENAN (The Plough and The Stars)

ADAM J. BERNARD - Dreamgirls (Savoy)

ALLAN CORDUNER (Show Boat) / NICK HOLDER (The Threepenny Opera) / EMMANUEL KOJO (Show Boat) / MALCOLM SINCLAIR (Show Boat)

REBECCA TREHEARN - Show Boat (Sheffield & New London)


DANIEL COLLINS - Jekyll & Hyde (Old Vic)

BENNET GARTSIDE (The Winter's Tale) / STEVEN McRAE (La Fille Mal Gardee) / EDWARD WATSON (Strapless) / THOMAS WHITEHEAD (The Invitation)

CORDELIA BRAITHWAITE - The Red Shoes (Sadler's Wells)
KERI ALKEMA (Tosca) / MARIANELA NUNEZ (Giselle) / MARIANELA NUNEZ (The Winter's Tale) / NATALIA OSIPOVA (La Fille Mal Gardee)

RUPERT GOOLD - Richard III (Almeida)

MATTHEW BOURNE (The Red Shoes) / CARRIE CRACKNELL (The Deep Blue Sea) / CASEY NICOLAW (Dreamgirls) / MATTHEW WHITE (She Loves Me)

  LEZ BROTHERSTON - The Red Shoes (Sadler's Wells)

HILDEGARD BECHTLER (Richard III) / BOB CROWLEY (La Traviata) / BOB CROWLEY (The Winter's Tale) / PAUL FARNSWORTH (She Loves Me)

 PAULE CONSTABLE - The Red Shoes (Sadler's Wells)

JON CLARKE (Richard III) / JEAN KALMAN (La Traviata) / NATASHA KATZ (The Winter's Tale) / HUGH VANSTONE (Dreamgirls)

CASEY NICHOLAW - Dreamgirls (Savoy)


CHRISTOPHER WHEELDON - The Winter's Tale (Sadler's Wells)
FREDERICK ASHTON (La Fille Mal Gardée) / MATTHEW BOURNE (The Red Shoes) / KENNETH McMILLAN (Anastasia) / PETER WRIGHT (Giselle)