"For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”

     Stripped of our final performances this season due to Covid-19 I have taken the opportunity to write a review on one of my personal favourites that we perform at Theatre Vanemuine, to give an insight to our audience who have missed out. 

    This particular ballet was first performed in Tartu whilst I was working in Germany three years ago. Nowadays I cover a spot in corps de ballet whilst another dancer steps into a soloist role, therefore I have watched the show more times than I have performed it. When I get the pleasure to sit in the audience, I see something new each time and consequently get to appreciate it even more. Having to watch your colleagues get to dance more than you can often feel demoralising, but I feel that the show gives me so many emotions that I get lost in it rather than focusing on my own circumstances. There's just something about this specific version that sweeps you up and consumes you. It seems elevated from other portrayals of the story, and let me explain to you why... 

    Petr Zuska first choreographed Romeo and Juliet on Czech National Ballet in 2013 and it was handed over to Teater Vanemuine in 2018. Despite sticking to the famous plot, he was able to add a more modern twist on it with minimalist sets and costumes, adding focus not necessarily between the two opposing families but also on the differences between male and female, which is depicted clearly by them wearing contrasting colours. 

    Sticking to the theme of male V's female, there is another clear difference which elevates his adaptation, that is by adding a character: Queen Mab, dressed all in white, who seems to be Frier Lawerence's opponent. He concurrently appears all in black and his motives and incentives come from a good place. Frier Lawerence is the first to appear on stage welcoming us to the show but his movements seem desperate and pleading, almost weak under the will of God. He appears throughout the story doing his best to guide the lovers into being together but constantly Queen Mab appears seemingly to stop that from happening. Her movements on stage are like a white silk thread, tying knots in between the characters and meticulously stitching her way deeper into the plot. Like a thread, she is invisible and not seen by the other dancers, only interacting with the soloists when there is a turning point in the story. She is everything you want from a female villain: beautiful, powerful, artful, and devious. At the same time she is not really a character, she is the symbol of fate. She appears in every moment of death and love, controlling the characters and narrating the story at exactly her will, whilst nothing and no-one can stop her. This is made clear when she runs to the front of the stage, takes the place of the conductor, and sets the tempo for the show. 

    The audience wilfully sits through this tragedy that is bound to happen, but what can seem frustrating about a sad ending is the unbeknownst, yet certainty, of death. Naive Romeo and Juliet are willing to play with death in order to be together but why should their plan fail them by some seconds, and pain us all? It is perhaps something Shakespeare wanted to portray to us, but without this vital character he was unable to form a clear explanation and help the audience switch the purpose off the love that was forbidden by the opposing families, but to the fate that stands greater and taller than all of us, and how creative to depict that in the shape and form of a beautiful woman. 

    The strongest moment of the ballet comes with the richest of music; it is when Mab drops Juliet's head gently onto Romeo’s and slowly stands above their dead bodies, raises her head to the audience as if to say: “look what I have accomplished.” There is no dancing in that moment, just stillness. It gives you a second to take in what has just befallen. It feels like a victory for Mab, for fate. It gives me chills down my spine just thinking about it now and for the dancer portraying this part it must be a truly empowering moment. She’s worked so hard to get to where she is and she is more than deserving to break victoriously through the third wall. This part is now danced by four girls in Vanemuine and as a woman in ballet to be handed that kind of role is a triumph. Most classical ballets were created 300 years ago when the role of a woman in society was very different. To add a female character this complex and powerful feels revolutionary and current. It is said that Zuska took his inspiration from a line of the play in which Mercutio describes his death as being lifted to heaven by a white angel. Zuska's attention to detail in order to adapt his portrayal of the story to fit modern times is clear and intelligent.

    Speaking as a dancer of the corps it is truly satisfying to dance. You have the feeling that all the movements fit with the appropriate accents. You’re on stage for most of the performance living and breathing the story. In second act, during the parts where Mercutio and Thibault face their end, all the other dancers freeze whilst they have their last dance with Mab. They enter a kind of limbo in between reality and death. As I’ve taken this freeze I’ve felt my colleagues fighting real tears around me as they’ve been so consumed by the story and emotions that it can actually bring up real feelings how one can react when a friend faces their final moments. I can say this show does not only sweep up the audience but the performers as well. 

    Unfortunately, due to Covid restrictions, we won’t be able to perform this ballet again until after the summer, but we will be working with Zuska again creating a brand new adaptation of Swan Lake in the mean time. I highly suggest you not to miss either piece, and prepare yourselves for an evening of high emotions and indulge yourselves in the magic of ballet. 

    “Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow." 

Find out more about the ballet here.

 Photo: Maris Savik

Dancers: Tarasina Masi and Jack Traylen, as Mab and Frier Lawerence.