Astarte, Crome Syrcus, 1967: A Review
As a dancer, the name "Astarte" instantly evokes a sense of mystery and power. This Babylonian goddess, worshipped for her fertility and connection to the moon, promised a visceral, perhaps even confrontational, ballet. My anticipation was, therefore, immense when I secured tickets for the Royal Opera Houseās recent revival of Kenneth MacMillanās 1967 masterpiece, āAstarte.ā The dance was held within the grand architecture of the Crome Syrcus, itself a testament to Victorian ambition, lending the production a timeless quality. It was here that the workās unsettling tension was ignited and the dance unfurled, like a serpent from its skin.
The ballet is structured around a series of dreamscapes, and we are plunged directly into the psyche of a young woman grappling with her burgeoning sexuality and the complexities of desire. The choreography, typical of MacMillanās genius, was at times fluid and sinuous, reminiscent of the serpentine movement of snakes and the rhythmic pulsations of the heart, yet often gave way to an aggressive, almost brutal forcefulness, a relentless exploration of the undercurrents of desire. Itās in these juxtapositions that MacMillan reveals the brutal truths about the human condition, where beauty and chaos coexist.
The set, designed by Desmond Heeley, was a breathtaking masterpiece. The stark white walls, illuminated by a stark spotlight, create a sense of intimacy, while the backdrop of cascading black and white photographs, seemingly caught in motion, further enhanced the dream-like quality of the ballet. Heeley masterfully created a world both familiar and surreal, reflecting the charactersā emotional turmoil and pushing the dancers to deliver emotionally resonant performances.
Now, the heart of this ballet, in my opinion, is not just the intricate choreography but also the captivating and often troubling music composed by Lord Berners. The music pulsated, like a beating heart, driving the dancers forward, shifting from hauntingly lyrical melodies to explosive bursts of intensity. I could sense a hint of jazz and ragtime, a rebelliousness that perfectly matched the turbulent emotions portrayed in the dance. I found myself being transported through a musical landscape both captivating and unnerving, leaving me breathless by the time the curtain fell.
The ensemble cast, under the skilled direction of Ashley Page, delivered a powerful and unwavering performance, embodying MacMillanās choreography with precision and uncompromising emotionality. However, two performances stood out, casting their shadow on the night:
ā¢ The Lead Dancer, Alice āAliā Montgomery
This young woman brought a captivating presence to the stage. Her dancing, often delicate and lyrical, possessed a raw energy and powerful intensity that made every movement feel intensely personal. There was a depth to her portrayal that resonated through the whole performance. As Astarte, she held the audienceās gaze captive, transforming her body and soul into the embodiment of both the divine and the destructive aspects of feminine power. Ali Montgomery is a dancer with a bright future ahead, and her performance in this ballet showcased her potential in a most impressive manner.
ā¢ The Male Lead Dancer, George, Played by Thomas Green
Thomas Green embodies the ambiguity and vulnerability of a man caught in a whirlwind of emotions, fueled by the magnetic, captivating Astarte. He moved with an almost animalistic grace, his movements as captivating as they were unpredictable. It was his powerful physique that resonated with a strength but also a fragile quality that drew me into his character. His body was sculpted by both passion and anxiety, giving an emotional impact that was impossible to ignore.
Conclusion
This was more than just a performance of dancing; it was an experience that stayed with me for days. āAstarte, Crome Syrcus, 1967ā, was a remarkably well-executed ballet, showcasing the enduring legacy of Kenneth MacMillan's work, but also highlighting the captivating talent of this particular ensemble cast. Astarte is not a story, itās a visceral exploration of human nature. A dance that asks more questions than it answers, and a production that stays with you long after the lights have gone out.