The tale of two iconic figures told through dynamic choreography, a fresh and energetic score, and engaging performances
Anyone who thinks ballet isn’t a vibrant, innovative, and lively part of today’s art world has clearly never seen a Scottish Ballet production. Their current production of Mary, Queen of Scots brings together dynamic choreography, a fresh and energetic score, and engaging performances to create an immensely absorbing show. The ballet explores the complex, fraught relationship between Mary and her cousin, Elizabeth I; the story is viewed through Elizabeth’s memories as she nears the end of her life. Although the story sweeps across several decades of incredibly complex political history, choreographer Sophie Laplane has a gift for communicating stories through dance. Each character was immediately recognisable through their style of movement, and there wasn’t a single dull moment throughout the piece. This level of artistry is especially striking considering that this is Laplane’s first full-length narrative ballet; she’s absolutely one to watch.
The immensely charismatic performances of the entire cast, in tandem with James Bonas’s direction, brought Laplane’s choreography vividly to life. Roseanna Leney was immensely watchable as Mary, bringing real complexity and depth to a controversial historical icon. Elizabeth I was portrayed by two dancers – Charlotta Öfverholm as the queen later in life, and Harvey Littlefield as the young queen at the height of her power. This split casting created the perfect vehicle to explore Elizabeth’s journey through her memories, as the older queen watched, and at times interacted with, her younger self. Öfverholm delivered a raw, powerful performance, ranging from almost grotesque anger in some moments to intense, heartbreaking vulnerability in others, to drained absence at the end of her life. Littlefield was mesmerising as the younger queen; their regal poise was perfectly suited to portray Elizabeth in the larger-than-life political image that she created (sometimes even taking on a literally larger-than-life stance on stilts). Artistic Director Christopher Hampson’s commitment to breaking down gender barriers in ballet is especially meaningful in a show about Elizabeth I and (tangentially), James VI & I, as both rulers led significant cultural shifts in how gender was perceived and performed in early modern England. Evan Loudon and Bruno Micchiardi as two of Mary’s suitors (the English Lord Darnley and the Italian courtier Rizzio) were especially engaging in a brief duet exploring the tension inherent in their shared interest in Mary. Thomas Edwards as Walsingham brought a slick, unsettling energy perfect for this scheming character, as he grows from Elizabeth’s obsequious advisor into a manipulative force to be reckoned with. Underscoring the whole narrative was Kayla-Maree Tarantolo, as ‘Death’ in the form of a jester. She inhabited the role with an eerily cheerful energy, dancing around the characters as a personification of their doom.
The ballet’s new score, composed by Mikael Karlsson and Michael P. Atkinson, was the heartbeat of the show. The music primarily alternated between rhythmic, percussive sections in scenes focusing on Walsingham’s spies or the more formal English courtiers, tense and urgent strings in moments of uncertainty, and swelling passages mixing brass and strings to soundtrack the characters’ most emotional scenes.
The show’s costumes, stage, projections, and lighting each had their moments to shine as well. Elements of Soutra Gilmour’s costume and stage design will feel familiar to anyone aware of her recent work with Jamie Lloyd on productions like Sunset Boulevard and Evita – namely, having the heroine in a stripped-back black outfit, often set against simple monotone backdrops. However, Gilmour’s overall design was wonderfully creative; set pieces were constantly whirled on and off stage, creating a dynamic backdrop perfectly suited to this time-traveling exploration of memory. Through her costuming, Gilmour created a striking, visually cohesive blend between early 20th-century aesthetics and 16th-century historical fashion, creating an overall look reminiscent of an Elizabethan twist on a silent movie. Tarantolo’s performance as Death in a bright green Pierrot-style clown outfit was a particularly defining feature of this cinematographic design, with elements of choreography reminiscent of the Charlie Chaplin era of physical theatre. Projections by Anouar Brissel and lighting by Bonnie Beecher added some truly breathtaking moments of visually rich theatre, using silhouettes and responsive projections to bring even more texture and life to the set.
This production is a brilliant testament to the playful, vital nature of modern ballet – at times surreal, at times intensely human, and always captivating.