REVIEW: Les Ballets Trockadero Programme A

Reading Time: 4 minutes

Performing excerpts from Russian classical and 20^th century American ballets, the Trocks deliver awe-inspiring artistry with flair and impeccable comedic timing. Warning: may cause belly laughs.

Arriving at the Peacock Theatre to see Les Ballets Trockadero De Monte Carlo (or the Trocks as they are more commonly known), I was immediately struck by a sense of reverential excitement. I had heard a great deal about the legendary all-male ballet troupe from friends and associates who were already familiar with their work, but I had never had the opportunity to experience them first-hand until now.

Initially founded in 1974 and enjoying early successes in Off-Off-Broadway venues, the Trocks quickly gained critical acclaim and have been a mainstay of the dance world ever since, captivating audiences worldwide for almost fifty years with their unique blend of drag, comedy, and unwavering devotion to ballet. As I took my seat in the auditorium and the house lights dimmed, we were regaled by an announcement – in a cartoonishly feigned Russian accent – informing us of a long list of last-minute cast changes. It was impossible not to chuckle over artist names such as Nadia Doumiafeyva and Maria Notgudenova. (Incidentally, the latter did not make the cut).

The evening began with Act II of Swan Lake, with the sorcerer Von Rothbart (Raffaele Morra) leaping and flouncing around the stage with all the haughty pomp of a Disney villain, before abruptly getting out of breath and getting a stitch. We meet the dashing hero Prince Siegfried (Giovanni Goffredo) and his companion Benno (Duane Gosa) as they encounter a flock of swans on a hunting trip, with the prince falling hopelessly in love with the Swan Queen (Takaomi Yoshino), a maiden who has been transformed into a swan by the sorcerer Von Rothbart.

Next, we were treated to an impressive pas de trois from Act I of Swan Lake (choreographed for one man and two women). The Trocks injected plenty of humour into this scene by having the two dancers in the female roles quite literally towering over one comparatively tiny man and subverting convention by often being the ones to hoist him up in the air. Following on from the classical repertoire was Nightcrawlers, an expressive and sultry piece that was clearly inspired by Jerome Robbins’ ballet In the Night, featuring three couples moving through varying phases of their relationships. The elegance of classical choreography was combined with playful elements of jazz to match the moody 1930s aesthetic. Chopin’s frenetic piano waltzes were used to great effect here, often reinforcing the physical comedy and miniature melodramas playing out between the three couples.

In The Dying Swan, Olga Supphozova (Robert Carter) took to the stage to perform a tribute to Anna Pavlova’s iconic balletic swansong. All well and good except the lighting operator seemed to be very confused as to where to point the spotlight, and the Swan’s tutu was undergoing some sort of moulting process. Finally, Valpurgeyeva Noch (“Walpurgisnacht”) served up a glorious spectacle of classical decadence, with Roman gods Pan and Bacchus frolicking amongst fauns and forest nymphs. Channelling the flamboyance and vigour one might expect from the Bolshoi, this was the Trocks’ moment to highlight the full extent of their talents, which were plain for all to see.

There is something uniquely enjoyable about seeing the demanding rigour of ballet paired up with the irreverent subversiveness of drag. While they might not immediately seem like obvious bedfellows, the result is a performance that pays homage to classical ballet but also holds a mirror up to some of its longstanding tropes and idiosyncrasies. Most notably, they interrogate what it means to be a ballerina and perform femininity within the confines of ballet. With this in mind, I recalled the words of dance critic Arlene Croce: “A ballerina isn’t a woman but an abstraction of one.” The strict expectation that a ballerina’s every move be effortlessly graceful, betraying no evidence of exertion whatsoever, all whilst accompanied by an exaggerated smile, is repeatedly lampooned by the Trocks. We see this evidenced when the Queen of the Swans can’t resist a triumphant grin and fist pump after executing a difficult move, or when the corps de ballet all strike a pose with inane grins threatening to split their faces in two.

Some might fall into the trap of assuming that because the Trocks infuse their performances with so much comedy they shouldn’t be taken seriously. Make no mistake here though, the Trocks are serious dancers. In fact, it is their sincere commitment to their artistry that makes their style of physical comedy so successful. There is an often a gentle simplicity to their humour that feels very close to clowning, and it has often been said that the first rule of clowning, after all, is to try hard. This makes it all the more hilarious when the Cygnets get their legs entangled and forget which way to turn their heads, or an unsuspecting member of the corps de ballet gets kicked in the face. Aside from slapstick I especially appreciated the moments of pure goofiness, like Prince Siegfried taking a slow solemn walk across the stage before having a coughing attack and spitting out a handful of swan feathers, or the excitable corps de ballet member with the irresistible urge to grin and wave at the audience.

Thanks to having previously worked as an usher in a performance venue (that will, for the purposes of this review, remain nameless) I already had some familiarity with ballet, its history, conventions, stories and musical scores. Having said that, I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t necessarily know my chaseés and pas de chats from my coup de grâces – although something tells me one of these might be un petit faux pas? Never mind, moving swiftly on. My enduring impression of the Trocks is that it really doesn’t matter if you’ve been exposed to ballet before or not. Whether it’s your first time ever attending a ballet (as was the case for my partner) or you’re a seasoned balletomane, the Trocks’ consummate skill and effusive charm is sure to win you over, one way or another.