God only knows why this is happening ... Ballerinas promote the English National Ballet's collaboration with Brian Wilson. Photograph: Chris Jackson/Getty
Should you be passing London's InterContinental Hotel on the evening of November 11 and should you have £375 to spare, you might just want to pop into the English National Ballet's winter fundraising gala - and not merely to rubberneck at that great patron of the arts, Prince Andrew. After an evening of assorted arabesque and arrière, Brian Wilson, erstwhile Beach Boy, will play a brief greatest hits set.
So far, so corporate. But wait, there's more. The English National Ballet's artistic director, Wayne Eagling, has choreographed a ballet for two of his principal dancers set to God Only Knows and the evening will mark its premiere. "Brian is very excited and honoured," said his spokesman, before neglecting to add, "Brian really doesn't know what's going on and the Wondermints do all the on stage legwork anyway."
God only knows why this is happening. It's a lose-lose situation. History tells us this and history is always right. While there is a small but noisy cabal of us who regard Kurious Oranj as the Fall's finest six minutes, Mark E Smith's I Am Kurious Oranj collaboration with the incurably daft Michael Clark was significant only in that made them laughing stocks across two disciplines.
Meanwhile, Radiohead's profound (as in profoundly silly) Ride the Beast at least forced the dancers to wear little bear ears, suggesting the Scottish Ballet understood the whole thing was a wee hoot, before they could get on with some proper work.
Such artistic hubris feeds into the innate need for pop stars who reach a certain plateau to be seen as more than pop stars: see also Paul McCartney thinking he's a classical composer. You weren't knighted for the Liverpool Oratorio, matey.
Ballet is inherently high art. Popular music can be high art too, but in a very different way. It's like trying to crossbreed a hen and a mongoose: it might be fun to try, but it won't work.
Brian Wilson we can forgive, for he knows not what he does. However, Joni Mitchell's faculties seem to be intact. Not content with signing to Starbucks, she too has a pending ballet, The Fiddle and the Drum. "I hope we can make a difference with this ballet. It's a red alert about the situation the world is in," she trills, shouting to be heard above the chorus begging her to stop this nonsense. "Nobody is fighting for God's creation."
Thanks Joni. And yet, somehow, no thanks.
