Stepping into the hushed anticipation of the theatre, the weight of history pressed upon me. This wasn’t just another ballet; it was Suite of Dances, the masterpiece of the late, great Dame Annabelle, choreographed to the timeless genius of Bach. This wasn’t just a performance; it was a pilgrimage. The audience, a silent sea of anticipation, pulsed with a shared reverence for a ballet that had become an icon.
The opening moments were pure magic. The stage, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, seemed to sigh as a lone figure, embodied by the ethereal Eleanor Rose, emerged from the shadows. The opening bars of Bach's Gigue from Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D Major, BWV 1068 resonated through the theatre, setting the scene for a dance that spoke of longing, of isolation, and of yearning for connection. It was as though Rose's every movement whispered a silent story, each turn, each arabesque a delicate brushstroke on the canvas of emotion. The movement, sharp and elegant, held a subtle beauty, echoing the intricacies of Bach's score, drawing the audience into the narrative of her solitude.
As the music shifted to the flowing melody of the Sarabande from the same Orchestral Suite, a troupe of dancers, their figures as fluid as the melody itself, flowed onto the stage. A sense of melancholy imbued the movement, the dancers expressing the nuances of human emotion with a breathtaking depth of feeling. There were moments of unison, movements flowing like waves, the group's synergy breathtaking. But even within this shared experience, there were individualities, with the dancers exploring the nuances of grief, solace, and, ultimately, hope within the carefully choreographed movements. There were tears in the eyes of those in the audience; these dancers, seemingly oblivious to the audience, danced for themselves, for the music, for their souls.
The performance took us on a journey, through the vibrant and complex structure of Bach's work. We witnessed the vigour of the Gavotte in the first movement of Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D Major, a delightful contrast to the solemn introspective quality of the earlier sections. Here, the movement was sharp, lively, even joyful, as if the dancers embraced the exuberance of the music. The pace, echoing the music, quickened, our bodies pulsing with the energy radiating from the stage. And yet, despite the joyous mood of the Gavotte, there remained an undercurrent of the introspective melancholy that had coloured the opening scenes.
The dance evolved alongside Bach's musical composition. The final sections of the performance used the Minuet from Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D Major, an interplay of intricate movement, the dance transforming as the music transformed, each note seemingly dictating a movement, a gesture, a pose. We, as an audience, were merely spectators in a world where movement dictated by sound held complete and total dominance. Here, Annabelle’s artistry as a choreographer truly shone, weaving the music and the movement together with unparalleled artistry. It was like watching a living, breathing sculpture.
And then, a gasp from the audience; the ballet concluded, as if the final chord of Bach’s musical masterpiece had been struck, leaving a space of quiet contemplation. As the silence grew, the final pose, a tableau of elegance and solemnity, held the stage, until a wave of applause, surging with the pent-up energy of an enthralled audience, broke the silence. I could see the dancers standing, almost reverent, in the aftermath of the performance. This, for them, was no mere routine; this was a ritual, a pilgrimage, an opportunity to celebrate the magic of music and movement, orchestrated to perfection by the vision of Dame Annabelle.
This was a ballet not only of exquisite beauty, but also of powerful depth. Annabelle had a way of choreographing that delved into the human heart. Through the choreography, she allowed the dancers to share their vulnerability, their resilience, their joys, and their sorrows. Their interpretations of Bach’s work were profound, their movements communicating a myriad of emotions that transcended mere performance.
It was not just the dance, though; it was the dancers.
- Eleanor Rose: As the lead dancer, Rose inhabited the role with a presence that was both powerful and tender. The intensity of her portrayal drew me into her story, making her journey, both heartbreaking and beautiful, relatable and compelling. There was an authenticity, a sincerity, in her every gesture. Every look, every gesture, spoke of vulnerability and strength, an unyielding resolve in the face of a demanding musical journey.
- Lucas Gray: Lucas Gray was, as ever, mesmerizing. His performance was marked by technical prowess and emotional depth. There was a precision in his movements, but also a quiet strength. He seemed to possess the ability to convey a thousand words through his posture, the eloquent expression of his body perfectly matching Bach's music.
- Isabella Croft: As one of the supporting dancers, Isabella Croft demonstrated remarkable skill and poise. She seemed to float across the stage, a graceful embodiment of elegance and beauty. Each step, every pause, was executed with a remarkable fluidity. Her dance showcased not only her physical prowess, but also her deep understanding of the music, making her interpretation truly memorable.
As I left the theatre, I was enveloped by a strange mixture of feelings. The weight of the performance lingered, a lingering afterglow that echoed in my mind long after the final curtain call. The performance was a journey – a journey through Bach’s musical masterpiece and Annabelle’s inspired interpretation, a journey through emotions, a journey through human connection. It was a reminder of the power of dance, its ability to transcend the mundane, to touch the soul.
This ballet was not merely a show; it was an experience. It was a symphony of movement and emotion, the spirit of Bach reborn in a masterful symphony of dance. The memory of those graceful, powerful dancers moving to the pulse of the musical masterpiece will stay with me for years to come.