Every decent ballet company needs a Sleeping Beauty; it’s a barometer of what kind of shape they’re in. Its wafer-thin plot allows plenty of room for tricky pas de deux and solos and you need a lot of dancers in good nick to bring them home successfully. It’s not an easy task and Carlos Acosta’s Birmingham Royal Ballet gave a decent if not particularly exciting account of it here.
First things first; they have an especially handsome production to show off. Peter Wright created it 40 years ago and it looks like it’s been given a bit of a spring-clean. Philip Prowse’s staging is russet personified and the costumes are intensely detailed and varied (not a wand to be seen, for example, despite the abundance of fairies on stage). Wright’s extra choreography has the dancers sprinkled attractively around the stage and Mark Jonathan’s lighting is unobtrusive for the most part but forceful and decorative when required. It’s all wonderful to look at. Just as pleasing was the form of the Royal Ballet Sinfonia under Philip Ellis. With a strong ear for detail, they ripped through Tchaikovsky’s score and brought out its monumental depth.
Regards the dancing, no-one gave a bad performance, but there were very few stand-out ones. Miki Mizutani was a superb Fairy of Modesty, totally in control and at ease with herself. Although this production’s Lilac Fairy has no dancing to do, Eilis Small emanated calm assurance and lit up the stage merely by being on it. Her nemesis, Carabosse, was not portrayed with any great menace by Daria Stanciulescu but she was great fun to watch and looked like she’d be a right laugh round the pub. A special mention must also go to Shuailun Wu, who’s still in the corps but he caught the eye in several minor roles with his effortless spring and precise limb placement.
And what of the two leads? Lachlan Monaghan doesn’t appear until halfway through the ballet, as Prince Florimund was born about a hundred years after Princess Aurora (sounds slightly dodgy now I write it down). He was a convincing actor and has fabulously solid jumps; he just was the part. His Aurora was Yu Kurihara, still young and not yet a Principal, and her relative inexperience in the role showed. At times she was sensational, with extraordinary balance, marvellously quick feet and a neat trick of slowing her spins down to a heartbeat’s pace. At other times, particularly for the notoriously difficult Rose Adage, she was hurried and over-enthusiastic. She performed best when being partnered by Monaghan; their adagio duet in the Vision scene was absolutely exquisite. On a final note, Kurihara sometimes let her anxiety show in her face; at the curtain call she suddenly relaxed and let out a beautiful beaming smile that hit all corners of the auditorium. ‘Ah, finally’, said my companion for the evening. ‘She’s found Aurora’. She was bang on.