Richard Alston has ended where he began. The last dance in his farewell Final Edition is made to the first music – by Monteverdi – that he remembers “hopping around to as a small boy”. In Voices and Light Footsteps, created last year, the 71-year-old choreographer reveals the very essence of himself, the glowing seam of light, of musicality and of joy, which has illuminated British dance stages for so long.
Faced with a 50% cut in Arts Council funding, he decided to close his Richard Alston Dance Company. This was its last programme, the concluding piece, to display his characteristic darting jumps and straight, carefully placed arms; the tilted centre of his fluid movements; his musicality and his sense that dance is a thing of beauty and grace.
All the time I was watching what he insisted was a celebration, not a funeral, I kept thinking how mad and sad it is that Britain’s regard for its cultural currency is so low that its principal funding body has to choose between setting aside money to encourage youth and supporting a veteran choreographer who has done as much as anyone to nurture contemporary dance in this country.
The nature of the choice is even more invidious since Alston’s company is one of the few permanent groups that offer young dancers a stable existence, a chance to hone their art in the service of a particular style. Too many choreographers are project-funded; most contemporary dancers are freelance. It may make them versatile and strong, but the sheer poetry and understanding on display here is rare. They were lovely in everything, including a new work, Shine On, set to the music of Britten and the poems of Auden, and the spiky, clever Isthmus, to music by Jo Kondo.
The programme was also generous, enclosing in its warm embrace the piano playing of company regular Jason Ridgway, performing Chopin mazurkas on stage to accompany Mazur, an emotional, sophisticated duet. Final Edition also featured A Far Cry, a fast and furious piece to pre-recorded Elgar from long-time associate Martin Lawrance, and Bari, a lively communal dance for students at London Contemporary Dance School, where Alston trained. The Monteverdi provided the perfect, elegiac close. It was intensely moving; Alston has brought a lot of pleasure to many people. He will shine on.
The Royal Ballet is reviving Liam Scarlett’s 2018 production of Swan Lake, for an epic run. Since the company’s associate artist is currently suspended pending an investigation into allegations of sexually inappropriate behaviour, the revival was staged by Royal Ballet artistic director Kevin O’Hare, but – some new lighting apart – it feels much the same as before.
I don’t love it. John Macfarlane’s designs are sumptuous, but Scarlett messes around with the story, placing the evil sorcerer Von Rothbart at the heart of the court, determined to bring Siegfried down. This seems superficially clever but actually makes nonsense of the plot, which is – God knows – one that requires a great suspension of disbelief in the first place.
But I managed to suppress my irritation, faced with the dancing of Marianela Nuñez and Vadim Muntagirov. As Odette/Odile and Siegfried, they are both nothing less than majestic. Neither the tragic lyricism of Odette nor the bravura evil of Odile hold any technical terrors for Nuñez; from that base she weaves an interpretation that is bewitching. In support, Marcelino Sambé, Mayara Magri, Fumi Kaneko and the entire corps de ballet were magnificent. The orchestra, under Koen Kessels, played like a dream.
Star ratings (out of five)
Final Edition ★★★★
Swan Lake ★★★ (production), ★★★★★ (dancing)
• Swan Lake is in rep at the Royal Opera House, London, until 16 May
