Last night I organized a post-work outing to the Royal Ballet. When I found out they were doing Swan Lake, one of my favorite ballets, there was no way I was not going.
Going to the ballet is quite possibly my favorite way to spend an evening. I prefer it to any other form on entertainment. I go into a sort of trance once the orchestra starts and the thick, velvet curtain draws back to reveal layers of pink tulle and perfectly pointed toes. It's just so beautiful.
I have a particular fondess for Swan Lake for a few reasons. The score is perhaps Tchaikovsky's greatest masterpiece, and for me it's completely transportive. I can close my eyes and completely lose my surroundings, my thoughts... just consume myself in the danses des cygnes.
The costumes of Swan Lake are particularly gorgeous. The rows of fluffy, feathered tutus and headpieces of the corps de ballet, Odette's gorgeous, stark-white and rhinestone tutu and Odile's contrasting jet-black one. It's ballet couture, and when the corps flocks onto the stage for the first time, one after the next, their arms sharply floating up and down in unison as the tulle of their skirts sway, I have to remind myself to breathe.
And then, of course, there is the love story.
I am a romantic, and I have a particular fondness for impossible love stories. So a Prince who happens falls in love at first sight with a beautiful princess, under the spell of an evil sorcerer and doomed to spend her days as a swan swimming in a lake of tears until a virgin prince swears his undying love to her, gets me every time.
The climax of the story is when the Black Swan, Odile, ruins everything by seducing Siegfried under the direction of the Sorcerer who cast the spell on Odette, and tricks him into thinking she is Odette so he declares his love to her instead.
It was a very fun girl's night out at the ballet, though I had to beg the other members in the group to stay for all 3 acts. They wanted to leave before the end! Imagine! But after they saw the finale, they were all clapping enthusiastically and saying, "yeah that grand finale was worth staying for."
Walking through the abandoned Covent Garden after the ballet towards the tube station I hummed in my head and couldn't resist doing a little pirouette here, a little jete there. I really think I was meant to be a ballerina.
Covent Garden was lit with a soft glow from the large, hanging chandeliers inside the covered market and the streets shiny from the rain that fallen while we were inside, which made it look even more charming than usual. I said "cheerio, mate" to it as I danced by, "It's been wonderful."
Thinking about the ballet on the tube ride home, I felt a bit like Odette myself. I know this sounds mental - but I am sort of mental, so stick with me here.
Like Odette, I am trapped in an unfair situation that I can't do anything about. I don't want to leave London, like Odette didn't want to be trapped as a swan. She decided there was no choice but to drown herself in a lake. I am a little less extreme in my sorrow and will probably not throw myself into the Thames, but I am extremely sad.
I'm down to 3 days, but if real life is anything like the ballet, then a lot can happen in three days.
And so I wonder how my own finale will play out. And if there will be encore.
Going to the ballet is quite possibly my favorite way to spend an evening. I prefer it to any other form on entertainment. I go into a sort of trance once the orchestra starts and the thick, velvet curtain draws back to reveal layers of pink tulle and perfectly pointed toes. It's just so beautiful.
I have a particular fondess for Swan Lake for a few reasons. The score is perhaps Tchaikovsky's greatest masterpiece, and for me it's completely transportive. I can close my eyes and completely lose my surroundings, my thoughts... just consume myself in the danses des cygnes.
The costumes of Swan Lake are particularly gorgeous. The rows of fluffy, feathered tutus and headpieces of the corps de ballet, Odette's gorgeous, stark-white and rhinestone tutu and Odile's contrasting jet-black one. It's ballet couture, and when the corps flocks onto the stage for the first time, one after the next, their arms sharply floating up and down in unison as the tulle of their skirts sway, I have to remind myself to breathe.
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| les cygnes |
I am a romantic, and I have a particular fondness for impossible love stories. So a Prince who happens falls in love at first sight with a beautiful princess, under the spell of an evil sorcerer and doomed to spend her days as a swan swimming in a lake of tears until a virgin prince swears his undying love to her, gets me every time.
And then the dramatic ending, where Odette throws herself into the lake because she'd rather die than live without him, and Prince Siegfried, so stricken with grief at having had accidently betrayed her, follows... there isn't a dry eye in the house. Their sacrifice destroys the sorcerer's spell and as the sun rises, Siegfried and Odette ascend into Heaven together, united in love for all eternity. All this in 3 short acts. The end.
It was a very fun girl's night out at the ballet, though I had to beg the other members in the group to stay for all 3 acts. They wanted to leave before the end! Imagine! But after they saw the finale, they were all clapping enthusiastically and saying, "yeah that grand finale was worth staying for."
Walking through the abandoned Covent Garden after the ballet towards the tube station I hummed in my head and couldn't resist doing a little pirouette here, a little jete there. I really think I was meant to be a ballerina.
Covent Garden was lit with a soft glow from the large, hanging chandeliers inside the covered market and the streets shiny from the rain that fallen while we were inside, which made it look even more charming than usual. I said "cheerio, mate" to it as I danced by, "It's been wonderful."
Thinking about the ballet on the tube ride home, I felt a bit like Odette myself. I know this sounds mental - but I am sort of mental, so stick with me here.
Like Odette, I am trapped in an unfair situation that I can't do anything about. I don't want to leave London, like Odette didn't want to be trapped as a swan. She decided there was no choice but to drown herself in a lake. I am a little less extreme in my sorrow and will probably not throw myself into the Thames, but I am extremely sad.
I'm down to 3 days, but if real life is anything like the ballet, then a lot can happen in three days.
And so I wonder how my own finale will play out. And if there will be encore.
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