Dearest readers, gather round and prepare yourselves for a story so outrageously glamorous, so delightfully ridiculous, that it’ll have you pirouetting with laughter. It’s 13th November, 1998, the day I’m calling **‘Tutu Tuesday’** and let me tell you, the world of ballet has gone utterly bonkers!
It all started this morning, when a rather disgruntled looking swan, presumably disgruntled about the lack of proper swan ballet training, decided to storm the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden. Apparently, it had been ‘misinformed’ about the actual nature of the Swan Lake performance, thinking it involved actual swans performing the famed “Dying Swan” scene.
The Royal Ballet was in the middle of Act I, the audience gasping and clutching their programmes with delight at the incredible performance, when a loud honk, followed by a tremendous flapping of wings, erupted from the wings. The bewildered swans of the chorus fled in all directions, while a rather irate-looking duck in a sequined tutu stomped its webbed feet, demanding to know “where the bloody water was?”
Chaos ensued, naturally. You can’t just have a rogue duck in a tutu disrupting the most hallowed of ballet traditions, and still expect to have any dignity left as a world-class performance venue. Let me tell you, this wasn’t just any duck, this was a proper, demanding diva, all hissing and demanding to speak to the manager. And when that manager, a rather portly and perpetually-stressed looking man named Harold, did finally appear, all that diva did was squawk “I want water!” at the top of its tiny ducky lungs.
Now, imagine, dear readers, Harold, faced with a very large duck in a sequined tutu, demanding a swimming pool right in the middle of the Royal Opera House. This was before the era of social media and internet videos so thankfully, no recordings were shared of this incident, except for some fuzzy stills that emerged on a rather dubious fan-run website. Those poor ballerinas looked so incredibly embarrassed to be on the same stage as the fowl fiend!
Thankfully, there was a solution, at least for the duration of the performance: a giant fishbowl filled with perfectly filtered water, adorned with some tasteful lilies and a bit of fake greenery. All perfectly “Swan Lake” themed!
It worked! A true miracle of the ballet world, a perfectly water-tight solution (pun intended), that allowed the show to continue uninterrupted. At least until intermission, that is! The duck, who’d been busy having a little paddle in its little palace of a bowl, seemed none the worse for its theatrical escapade and was looking rather satisfied with itself.
Apparently, according to a local newspaper report, it even had the audacity to refuse a little snack of fish-shaped crackers. "She," (the local newspaper, inexplicably, chose to assign feminine pronouns to the avian intruder) "wanted the full Royal Ballet Experience – ballet and an exquisite meal". The cheeky minx!
Anyway, during intermission, while the rest of the audience were sipping champagne and looking oh so elegant, Harold had the bright idea of hiring a rather distinguished looking gentleman – the owner of a nearby pigeon fancying club, we're told – to coax the "diva duck", as she had become known, into the open air where, apparently, she belonged. Harold thought the offer of a particularly delightful breadcrumb sandwich and some freshly picked sunflower seeds might tempt her to leave the "stage" on her own. And he was right!
I’m told, when she got to the outside, the “diva duck” took one look at the beautiful open sky and the prospect of free bird seed in the nearby parks – a delicious feast far surpassing the pitiful breadcrumb sandwich! - and took off into the clouds. All drama, diva ducks and “Dying Swans” are now a thing of the past for now, the swans are thankfully back in their tutus and ready to glide across the stage. At least until another wild duck takes to the spotlight.
So what lessons can we learn from the Diva Duck of the Royal Opera House?
- Never underestimate the power of a perfectly-timed entrance – that's how a feathered friend like that captured all those flashbulbs – a little flamboyance never hurt anybody, and even a swan can learn a lesson in theatrical flourish.
- Always wear a tutu to a fancy occasion - the tutu might just make your day, after all, just ask our Diva Duck! And that duck definitely proved that even in the world of high fashion, anything goes when it comes to tutus!
- There are no boundaries when it comes to performing the “Dying Swan,” except perhaps a strict limit on what counts as “suitable” ballet choreography! Perhaps the Royal Ballet needs to include an impromptu duck dance – something “The Swan Duck Dance” or perhaps “Dying Duck”, if we are to cater to all our avian enthusiasts!
So there you have it – a lesson in glamour and a bit of theatrical anarchy all wrapped up in a tale of the swan and the duck, with a delightful sprinkle of sequins and enough feathered shenanigans to send any fan of dance into a frenzy.
Tune in next week for another update, as always I shall be here to fill you in on all the latest – and certainly most outrageous – events from the dazzling world of ballet!