The Royal Ballet's 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' (choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon)

I was sad not to have managed to get to see this when it was first on, and so was delighted to be able to experience it this time, and to see Lauren Cuthbertson dance the role of Alice. It’s not often you see a new full-length ballet, so this in itself was quite special. A lot of time, love, and money must have gone into this production, and it really did show.

The curtains open on a garden party scene. The scenery is beautifully idyllic, but it’s not long before Alice is plummeting down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. Throughout the entire production there will be a number of impressive uses of technology helping to bring this most eccentric story to life. A screen comes down, and there, seemingly floating in the middle of it, is Alice. She lands in a room of doors, none of which she can get through. A small door appears on stage at this point, and Alice tries to squeeze through to no avail. A range of visual tricks are used throughout this scene to allow for the series of size changes in the main character, which must have been something of a logistical nightmare. Cuthbertson plays the part spectacularly, trying to fit through the tiny door, and then jumping up to reach the door which is suddenly far too large for her to reach the handle (and sulking when she realises there’s just no way of reaching it). The picture that I saw several times previous to seeing the show of her  hunched up in a corridor that is obviously too small for her was not in fact just part of a photo shoot, but part of the ballet, Cuthbertson climbing up into the scenery. It’s just fantastic the ways they came up with to deal with the various challenges that arise from the complexity of the story.

Act two leads us on to the Mad Hatter’s tea party. I managed to catch the rehearsal for this during Royal Ballet Live, and it was quite magnificent in real life. The costumes and props were wonderful. Steven McRae made a wonderful Mad Hatter, my only complaint is that we didn’t see much of him! Although in saying that, some productions linger far too long on this scene, I’d much rather be left wanting more than become bored.

Until the final act we have only seen the queen of hearts being wheeled around in a large red contraption, and I was pleased that she didn’t remain in it throughout. Her piece was a particularly humourous part of the evening (and there were several, not something you often expect to find in a ballet). The dancers acted brilliantly, terrified of this bloodthirsty queen, and there was an amusing parody of the rose adagio from Sleeping Beauty. Although only a minor part, I thought the young hedgehog was just fantastic.

There is so much to be said about this ballet; a brilliantly weird construction of the Cheshire cat, endless brilliant visual effects, and utterly wonderful dancing. Lauren Cuthbertson must have been utterly exhausted by the end, having been on stage for pretty much the entirety of the three acts, but didn’t let it show. This ballet would make a wonderful introduction to ballet, but also one not to be missed by long term ballet fans. Playful, funny, clever, eccentric, and wonderfully choreographed and produced, I’ll certainly jump at any chance I get to see it again (and in the meantime might just have to buy the DVD…)

'The Mousetrap'

Last week I was lucky enough to see Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap performed at St. Martin’s Theatre in London. Approaching it’s sixtieth anniversary (quite an achievement I think you’ll agree), and about to embark on its first national tour, this seemed like the right time to finally find out what all the fuss is about!

The theatre itself is quite small, which was actually really rather nice for this kind of production. There was a board telling you what number performance you were at (I wish I’d made a note of what it was, but alas, did not). They were clearly proud to be housing the world’s longest running play, and rightly so.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the play itself. I’ve only ever read one Agatha Christie novel, and knew little about the plot, so beyond it being a murder mystery, all was to be revealed. The initial murder happens with the curtains down, you hear the drama, and the curtain rises on a guest house reception room. There will be no scene changes (something that is quite unfamiliar to me, being used to large, dramatic ballets and musicals with impressive, ever-changing sets), but it really worked. The fact that it remains in the one room helps draw you in, and creates a real sense of suspense. The characters are trapped at the guest house, a snow blizzard occurring outside (illustrated nicely with snow building on the window ledges, and a wind that blows the window around whilst open, the latch tapping eerily against the pane). In a world where we all carry mobiles on our person most of the time, and feel constantly connected it gives you a real sense of how isolated and cut-off you could become. Imagine being in that situation knowing a murderer was amongst you, terrifying!

The audience is introduced to an eclectic array of characters, all seemingly with a secret to hide. By the interval myself and my friends were all completely bamboozled as to who the murderer was. Agatha Christie lays out the plot fantastically; any of them have the potential to be the murderer. It was fantastic hearing the rest of the audience happily trying to work it out, just what you want from a murder mystery.

There was a fantastic subtlety about the play. When a second murder occurs, the lights go down, and you merely see a silhouette rush across the stage. Suspense is built with a slow opening of a side door, and an eerie whistling, truly creepy, and wonderfully done. I think often with modern works a lot of this subtlety is lost, and this, to me, is a real shame. The audience let out a gasp when the murderer was revealed (proof that we were all kept guessing right up until the very last moment).

A brilliant play that completely sucks you in. I am always in awe of the minds that can come up with such clever plots, and I can certainly see why this play has kept going so long. With twists at every turn, and an interesting back story that is revealed in stages, this is certainly not one to miss. Suspenseful, exciting, and actually very humourous, an utterly fantastic play that I hope will continue for many more years to come.

'When God Was a Rabbit' by Sarah Winman

I didn’t know a lot about this book before starting to read it, just that it had been recommended by several friends. For some reason I’d got it into my head that this was going to be a cheerful book, I was wrong. It has got moments of humour within it however, and the overall message is hopeful. It follows the story of Elly (the narrator) from childhood through to her adult life. The sections of her youth were well described, things seen as they would have been from a child’s point of view, which can seem humourous to an adult reader. There are a few moments that I felt were somewhat unrealistic however, that you just wouldn’t expect a child to have any interest in, or understanding of.

One of the main themes of the book is relationships. Elly’s relationship with her brother, her best friend Jenny Penny, and also with the various adult members of her family. It examines the importance of such relationships, and how they change and develop as people grow. It made me appreciate how important the relationship with siblings is for those who have them; whether you get on well with them or not, they have an understanding of your life that nobody else shares, growing up with you, sharing experiences, and making sense of the world together. We see Elly grow, and have to deal with her brother growing into a young adult, wanting relationships (something which I think can be quite hard for many siblings; suddenly there is someone else taking their attention, someone who could hurt them that you want to protect them from), and having to help him through heartbreak, and the pain of growing up.

We also see her relationship with Jenny change over the years, as they learn things about each other’s childhoods that they couldn’t have understood as children. Although their lives pan out so very differently they retain a bond that never leaves them. This sense of understanding with age also comes with her parents. There comes a time in everyone’s life where they start thinking about the people their parents were before they existed, that they had their own lives, that they have their own secrets and worries, and all this is brought out wonderfully in this novel.

There were moments where I thought it felt as though all these different things wouldn’t happen in an average person’s life, but then realised that actually they weren’t that extraordinary, and that we all go through a lot of similar events that bring us into adulthood (though I don’t imagine people all have the same important events throughout life, everybody has their own history, their own particular story that shapes the adult they become). I liked the fact the author brings in real life news stories and links them into the story, whether they be central to the story or not. We know what year we are in throughout, and so it seems right that they are mentioned, and woven into the fabric of the story.

All in all a great debut novel, although I found my attention wavering at points it generally kept me hooked with a wide range of interesting characters, a story most people can relate to in some way, a series of quite remarkable events that keep you wanting to turn the page, and a rather lovely writing style, I look forward to seeing what Sarah Winman comes up with next.

Out and about in Salisbury

I was recently lucky enough to visit Salisbury for the first time. I was immediately struck by how beautiful a city it is, and that all the surrounding area seemed really very picturesque. Naturally, I headed towards the cathedral (with its spire reaching high into the sky it was a good way of keeping my bearings whilst navigating the rest of the city). Unlike some cathedrals which don't let you walk around the grounds without paying, Salisbury cathedral is surrounded by large areas of grass which can be enjoyed by everyone.



 As I'm sure is the case with most visitors I was struck by the spire (the tallest in Britain), and was intrigued to get inside this stunning building and explore. The interior doesn't disappoint, large arches looming on either side of the main aisle, quite awe-inspiring. The only downside was that there was no crypt, a part of cathedrals that I particularly like (and which people find a little odd). There was plenty of fascinating objects to see whilst there though; they have a copy of Magna Carta, and also the oldest working mechanical clock in Britain. I was intrigued by this clock which looks nothing like a modern clock - there is no face, just a complicated series of cogs, and a connection to a bell that chimes on the hour.

There were plenty of other exciting places to visit in close proximity to the cathedral, but I didn't get the chance to visit them (perhaps an excuse for another trip to Salisbury...)

The clock

If history isn't really your thing there's plenty of independent shops to entertain, as well as the usual chains. For food and drink I'd recommend the Boston Tea Party. Service with a smile, tasty food and drink, and the decor upstairs was really quite special.

I also happened upon a lovely little bookshop (I think it was called The Last Bookshop), which was cheap, had a good range, and again very friendly staff. Even though I was purchasing my books not long before they were closing the bookseller still engaged me in conversation about them. If you're like me and have no willpower when it comes to buying books I'd stay away though, you'll end up with armfuls of new books.

Spring Passions: 'Daphnis and Chloë' / 'The Two Pigeons'

Having been to the Royal Opera House many times to see the Royal Ballet perform, I was yet to experience a production by their sister company the Birmingham Royal Ballet, and so I jumped at the chance when I saw they were going to be at the London Coliseum for a brief period. Having never seen either of these ballets before, this was all going to be very new to me. For any Frederick Ashton fans this was the perfect afternoon out.

The double bill started with Daphnis and Chloë. The scene set is quite simple, as are the dancers costumes –the men in shirts and trousers, the women in simple, brightly coloured dresses. Daphnis and Chloë are lovers, but, alas, she is captured by a pirate, leaving Daphnis distraught. (The story is based on an ancient tale and is therefore somewhat fantastical). The highlight for me in the first scene was the nymphs that appear to Daphnis in a vision after Chloë has been captured. The lighting is low, an eerie blue light shines on the cave in the corner. Out of it glide three nymphs. Here the combination of costume and dance is mixed wonderfully. The dancers are covered in green, with a simple white dress (which is more like some material hanging down their front, tied, and then down their back, turning into a more substantial piece of clothing for the skirt which is attached to their wrists). Their movements and the corresponding floating movements of the dresses create really quite a haunting image.

A screen comes down with a picture of Pan (a mythical creature) on, and we wait. There is no music, nor any dancers on stage, only the scraping of scenery can be heard. I understand that for a short ballet with no interval it is difficult to have quite large scene changes without some disruption, but I’ve never been to a ballet where there is quite this delay. Eventually there is some eerie singing in the background, and finally the screen is lifted revealing a somewhat hellish set design. The happy choreography of the first scene is gone, replaced by much more sinister, stronger actions. It’s almost quite uncomfortable watching poor Chloë, her hands tied, unable to escape, the pirates with obvious sinister intentions. At the end of the scene Pan appears to rescue her, and the pirates go into a panic, dancing in what appears to be uncontrolled and spontaneous, but was no doubt choreographed carefully, and danced with great precision.

The final scene opens on a Greek island set. The dancers reappear with colourful outfits and scarves, and take part in a celebrationary dance. The colours and choreography make this quite a feast for the eye, moving away from traditional ballet into something that resembles a group dance you could imagine occurring at a wedding or some other celebration years ago.

This wasn’t my favourite ballet but it certainly had some high points, and a variety of different dance styles, and set designs. Technically well danced, and quite different to what you might expect from a ballet, I’m glad it’s part of the BRB’s repertory.

The Two Pigeons was rare in that it made the audience laugh. The set opens on a couple in a Parisian apartment (judging from the costumes I imagine it is set some time in the nineteenth century. The man is trying to paint his lover, but she is restless and playful, acting the part wonderfully. Two pigeons fly across the stage at the back, and the characters, intrigued, incorporate bird-like movements into their dance, something I imagine to be quite a challenge, to still be dancing with grace, and technical accuracy whilst bringing in these very different movements. By the end of the scene the young man had been seduced by a gypsy woman. Her dark costume, and provocative dancing contrasting with the pale costume of the young girl, and her innocent, playful movements. The two women have something of a dance-off vying for the attention of the young man.

The next scene is set in a gypsy encampment. The gypsy girl continues to taunt the young man with her obvious sexuality, and yet she has a lover that she has no intention of giving up. The young man is beaten up by the other gypsies, and eventually kicked out. This ballet is quite rare in that it is far more about the male protagonist than it is about the woman, and the male lead gets good opportunity to show of his considerable skill.

The pigeon returns to the stage, the young man takes it back to his lover, who is lying on the floor, distraught at having been left by him. A moving pas de deux follows (I admit I was distracted by the pigeon to begin with, but the dancing drew me back). The lovers are reunited, and finally, the second pigeon returns, mirroring the reunited couple.

An utterly fantastic ballet, edgy, but with a fair amount of soft romantic dancing (think black swan vs. white swan). Genuinely humourous in parts, a wonderful tribute to Ashton, why isn’t this piece performed more regularly?!

'Magnificent Obsession: Victoria, Albert, and the Death that Changed the Monarchy' by Helen Rappaport

I first heard about this book whilst reading BBC History Magazine sometime before Christmas. There was a fascinating article about Victoria and Albert, and it put me on to the scent of this book. The Victorian period is one of my favourites when studying history, though I admit I actually know very little about Queen Victoria herself, beyond the basics I was taught in primary school. Always having imagined she must have been a fantastic monarch, reigning for so very long, and being on the throne during such an important period, and yet this book made me feel that perhaps I had got it wrong (and also that I should actually find out a bit more about her!).

From page one this seemed liked my kind of history book. Fascinating, informative, yet exceptionally easy to read, it sometimes felt more like reading a novel than a history book. It opens with Christmas, 1860, setting the scene with a happy family gathering, making sure that right from the off the reader is aware of how important family was to the royal couple, and thus give us a better appreciation of quite how devastating Albert’s death would have been for Victoria.

I did find it somewhat unsettling, however, when it is described how Albert tried to change Victoria, and manipulate her into the type of monarch he wanted her to become. It’s difficult to reconcile behaviour such as this with a loving marriage, but then I suppose it’s important to separate the professional from the personal side of this relationship. The book makes it perfectly clear that Victoria absolutely doted upon Albert, and relied on him wholeheartedly, seeking his advice on every aspect of her life. It is claimed later in the book that she would happily have given her throne over to him had he survived. However, there are also passages describing what seems like unconcern for Albert’s welfare on Victoria’s part, always insisting on keeping the palaces at low temperatures, with windows flung open in the middle of winter, despite Albert suffering from such decisions. There seems to be something of a mix of self-interest which sometimes meant Victoria did not fully consider Albert’s feelings in his lifetime, but at the same time it is perfectly clear how much she loved him, and that her complete devastation at his death was not merely an appreciation of him once he was gone.

The way in which his death is described is moving, and makes you think of Victoria as a real human, rather than separating her from us as a monarch, whose life is so different we can barely relate. Here she loses the love of her life, her main support system (we are reminded throughout that she gains no great comfort from her children), and also her advisor in all matters, both political and personal. And thus the mourning begins.

Previous to Albert’s death it had been apparent that Victoria took part in the mourning rituals of the day to the very extreme. The loss of her mother hit her hard, but she also insisted on full mourning for members of the court, and more distant relatives whereby somewhat less extravagant mourning would be expected. I found it utterly fascinating to learn more about how death was perceived in the nineteenth century, so very different to today. I can’t imagine walking into my local Debenham’s and asking for their mourning section!

She completely secluded herself from public life for many years after his death, causing public unrest, and rumours of abdication. Rappaport comments on how different this was to her behaviour earlier on in her reign (only allowing a three day honeymoon with Albert because she had so much business to attend to). Having watched recent TV programmes about Queen Elizabeth in the lead up to her jubilee, I can see similarities and contrasts between the two. When Princess Diana sadly died the Queen was criticised for spending a few days at Balmoral away from the public. Queen Victoria also found Balmoral to be her place of safety, but left it far more than a few days. It must be a difficult task to juggle such personal grief, and the public duty that comes with being a monarch, and this is perhaps something our current Queen is more apt at. In saying that, on the recent Andrew Marr programme, many of the Queen’s relatives commented that she wouldn’t have been able to do it without her husband by her side, and this is exactly what Queen Victoria had to do for many years. A position she didn’t feel all that comfortable in, and a heavy burden to bear on her own. She had never had to make decisions on her own, having a somewhat over-bearing mother, and then straight into complete reliance on Albert. It must have been a hugely challenging personal task, and all the while suffering in her grief at having lost the love of her life.

Although Albert had specifically requested that she did not construct monuments and statues to him, they proliferated throughout her lifetime. Perhaps a sign that her grief was somewhat self-indulgent, but also forced the public to appreciate the man that had been so very under-appreciated during his lifetime. How very different South Kensington would look today without Queen Victoria’s obsession with commemorating her husband.

All in all a brilliant book; easy to read, informative, moving even. I did wonder at points how it would continue to progress, Albert had died, Victoria had been mourning, what now I wondered, but it manages to retain interest throughout, and I certainly feel I learnt a lot.

Hampton Court Palace

I had a very enjoyable visit to Hampton Court Palace at the weekend, and thought I’d share some of the delights of one of my favourite historic sites with you. I didn’t take any photos at the weekend because I thought I had taken plenty the last time I’d visited. Turns out the photos I had taken previously were neither as numerous, nor as high in quality as I’d remembered, so I do apologise for that.

Hampton Court is one of those wonderful places where you are struck, not just by the majesty, and awe-inspiring size of the building, but also by how close to history you feel merely by being there. You can really imagine history happening there, and my goodness, did a lot of important history happen there. The palace is probably best known as a Tudor palace. I’ve always been under the impression that it was (well, the half of it that everyone thinks of as Tudor), and so I was most surprised to find that the initial archway, so emblematic of Hampton Court in all its Tudor glory is in fact a Victorian construction. Thanks to the wonderfully friendly and knowledgeable staff, I also discovered that Henry VIII’s palace would not exist at all had it not been for government turning down William III’s request for funds to finish his palace, a fact that physically makes me cringe at the thought of what would have been lost.

The whole visitor experience is fantastic, they have events every day to engage visitors of all ages with the history of the place, but there’s plenty of wandering to be done around Tudor kitchens, the private apartments of later kings and queens, and the stunning gardens. Whilst travelling through the Great Hall, admiring the impressive tapestries covering the walls that are currently having conservation work done on them, I found myself in the middle of a tour group. I’m not always the biggest fan of organised tours, but this particular tour guide had many an interesting tale to tell, including the sorry tale of the painted Tudor ceiling, the paint having been removed in the 1950s (I think) as they thought it was a Victorian addition. They realised half way through their mistake, but completed the job nonetheless, devastating! It makes me appreciate groups like Historic Royal Palaces, English Heritage, and the National Trust who take care of our heritage, and hopefully wouldn’t let such vandalism occur today.

Travelling through the Tudor courtyards to William and Mary’s section of the palace, it’s like travelling through time, such a stark contrast, both equally beautiful and fascinating in their own way (although the Tudor section is supposedly more haunted, seems we have Henry VIII to thank for that!). I was lucky enough to be there when there weren’t too many other visitors, and entering the Georgian apartments felt like stepping back in time. Through closed doors (which I was allowed to enter, honest), it felt like I was merely exploring my own personal palace. They have managed that difficult balance between giving enough information and not spoiling the atmosphere of history by putting up too many signs, etc. The audio guide was hugely informative, and there were plenty of members of staff to hand for any further questions.

The gardens of Hampton Court really are stunning, and you catch glimpses of them through windows as you walk around the palace. It would be easy to spend many hours soaking in the wonderful surroundings (and getting lost in the maze…). I also discovered that there is an exhibition about the garden there that I had not come across before.

An utterly marvellous palace, with such a fascinating history. I bought the guide book, and was interested to find that although it hasn’t been a royal residence for many years, and was opened to the public by Queen Victoria, there were still residents there, known as grace-and-favour residents. Imagine living in such spectacular surroundings…