Director: Elizabeth Triegaardt
Choreographer: Marc Goldberg
Cast: Members of Cape Town City Ballet
Venue: Theatre on the Bay, until August 8
RATING: ****
Vortex, an impersonal maelstrom sucking the helpless to destruction: the title of Noel Coward’s début novel is well chosen for a tale of toxic relationships and human frailty, and rich material for this new ballet based on the 1920s original.
Goldberg’s choreography serves up a darkly beautiful work featuring noteworthy pas de deux.
Elegance is preserved at all times as befits the lofty social milieu which these protagonists inhabit; it is apparent in the restrained formality of costumes (black and white,) and Denis Hutchinson’s simple, well-conceived set (a few chandeliers, a lacy curtain and split-levels is all that is needed).
The marriage of classical ballet and contemporary dance results in a timeless hybrid underscoring the ageless quality of Coward’s text. Although set in the early 20th century, The Vortex’s subject matter remains relevant today, like the tragedies of ancient Greece: fear of ageing, inappropriate passions, jealousy and self-hate know no period, nor are they likely to change in the foreseeable future. Goldberg, in conveying this emotional intensity through dance, has eschewed the pitfall of mime and relies on spatial dynamics as the characters come together, bond, and part, their facial expressions complementing body language to deliver the narrative.
Stylisation plays an important part in this exercise, giving clean lines to the work without over-simplification. Gestures and head-movements are charged with intention so that the audience is kept aware of interpersonal dynamics: accurately billed as “a play without words”, this version of The Vortex needs no dialogue to clarify its action. Its executants have to act as well as dance, and the leads on opening night rose impressively to the challenge.
Laura Bosenberg as Florence, the central character, portrays an ageing beauty seeking to perpetuate youth in a relationship with one of her son’s school-friends while her husband looks on unmoved. This is a far cry from the usual repertoire of princesses and sprites more frequently undertaken by this ballerina, and she appears at ease in the role. Thomas Thorne and Ivan Boonzaaier share the honours in partnering her, the former as Florence’s son Nicky (who also happens to be using cocaine) and the latter as his friend Tom. Both prove supportive partners, matching Bosenberg’s proficiency in the pas de deux.
Elizabeth Nienaber is Helen, the family friend whose recurrent presence acts like a Greek chorus in the course of the work as she has the wisdom and detachment – a rare quality in this assemblage of people – to understand what is going on beneath the elegant façade. Her Poor Little Rich Girl at the beginning of Act 3 is a welcome counterpoint to all the angst of fractured relationships surrounding her.
Sarah-Lee Chapman brings youthful grace and a suitable amount of venom to her role as Bunty, Nicky’s fiancée, and Xola Putye convinces as the stolid, long-suffering husband.
The glamour, cruelty, and sophistication of Coward’s era is powerfully evoked in Goldberg’s début work, aided by moody music and collages of acerbic Coward lyrics.
Bravi to all.