Between 1871 and 1876 four major stage works 
                appeared in Europe, one each in Germany, Italy, France and Russia. 
                These works bear on each other in some remarkable ways. Each of 
                them has the same plot — someone is being forced for reasons of 
                convention or patriotism to marry somebody they aren’t in love 
                with. They aren’t going for it, and the course of true love results 
                in most everybody being dead by end-curtain time. All four works 
                are today hailed as transcendent masterpieces in their forms, 
                but two of the four were failures in their first productions. 
                Three of the four works are set in the heroic past which tends 
                to give the theme a monumental, dare I say Biblical, dignity. 
                The other one was set in a foreign country, that is foreign to 
                the audience. In two of these works the hero has the same name. 
                This remarkable synchronised public assault by the artistic intelligentsia 
                from four different countries on conventional European marriage 
                customs eventually had its success in changing things around. 
              
 
              
OK, has everybody got Aïda, Götterdämmerung, 
                Carmen — and Swan Lake? 
              
 
              
Perhaps, you say, I’m making too much of all 
                this. After all, Rossini’s Cambiale di Matrimonio of 1810 
                has a similar plot. Yes, but CdM was a comedy, nobody dies, 
                it was set in what was the present day, and it didn’t, and wasn’t 
                intended to, make audiences angry. And then Rossini turned around 
                and wrote La Gazza Ladra which has the opposite 
                message — in troubled times trust in God and do what you’re told 
                and everything will come out all right. 
              
* * * 
              
 
              
Although I was sufficiently impressed to have 
                a very good time, some reviewers who have seen many notable performances 
                of Swan Lake tend to find this performance lacklustre. 
                Although in the earlier scenes there seems to be a lot of unaffected 
                walking about on stage, there is some exceptionally fine ensemble 
                dancing here and there, especially in the classical swanlet corps-de-ballet 
                scenes. The four "little swans" are absolutely stunning. 
                For me the star is really Martin James (Benno) who projects a 
                rugged masculine persona, the sort of guy you really would like 
                to go hunting with, who really likes dancing with girls. Peter 
                Schaufuss (Prince Siegfried), who could be replaced by a hydraulic 
                lift on wheels, since his main function seems mostly to be carrying 
                the prima ballerina around on stage, is, except for his few terrific 
                solos, rather pale by comparison. Prima Evelyn Hart has 
                some superb dancing moments; she is a good actress and makes a 
                very evil Odile, as well as a very heartbroken, forgiving Odette. 
                Johnny Eliasen as Rothbart is really scary on stage during the 
                ballroom scene, where everybody is enchanted and apparently sees 
                nothing wrong in the prospective father-in-law being all made 
                out of lead, having no head and waving a twelve foot wingspan. 
                The rest of the time he’s replaced in the video by ghostly owl-like 
                projections that are a little over-done. The sets are relatively 
                simple, using rear projections and overall colour changes to shape 
                mood. The use in the final scene of ‘mist’ and blue laser projection 
                is very effective in creating the impression of the lake water 
                rising over the stage and drowning the lovers. Although some Ashton 
                choreography is used, they don’t use his ‘happy ending’ where 
                the swanlets attack and destroy Rothbart and save the lovers’ 
                lives. This is the traditional ending where after they drown they 
                move up into the sky and disappear into the moon. 
              
 
              
Comic relief is provided by Natalia Makarova 
                reciting what is apparently a Cyrillic phonetic transcription 
                of a summary of the story in English. Nobody could have that heavy 
                an accent and know a single word of English. If your children 
                don’t behave, you can threaten to make them watch and listen to 
                her again. 
              
 
              
The musical performance is as good as any I’ve 
                heard, avoiding the rushed tempos which often ruin this music 
                in concert performances. The sound is 2.0 stereo, very clear and 
                rich sounding with good bass, but I heard nothing from the rear 
                channels. The string ensemble is razor sharp, the high and low 
                percussion, so important to this score, are clearly present but 
                not obtrusive. The picture is about as clear as film, but definitely 
                not high resolution video. The complete score has 29 numbers; 
                Antal Dorati with the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra takes 131.45, 
                André Previn, with the London Symphony Orchestra, 155.38. 
                This performance is substantially complete at 111.10, only some 
                repeats and some of the national dances in the ballroom scene 
                have been cut. But of course the Neapolitan Dance is there, near 
                the beginning of the scene, to serve as a dashing showpiece for 
                Martin James. 
              
 
              
Paul Shoemaker