One of the greatest classical ballets of all time, Swan Lake, has mesmerised audiences for more than 100 years.
The ballet has accomplished a long and complex performance history which has witnessed the work of some of the greatest choreographers including Reisinger, Petipa, Ivanov, Diaghilev and Nureyev.
The late 20th century saw a departure from the traditional ballet as Erik Bruhn, Mats Ek and Matthew Bourne gave their own exploratory vision of the story, adapting it to newer concepts and philosophies.
This is where Malaysian-born dancer and choreographer Mavin Khoo fits in. His latest work 00:00-00:01, a new reading of the romantic tragedy Swan Lake, disseminatesan infinite truth brimming with darkness and curiosity.
With one man, five swans and two films, the production revolves around the precarious nature of a swan. Using ‘the swan’ as a paradoxical symbol of beauty and malevolence, Khoo curiously delves into an existential world which similarly seeks to express the conflicting nature found within every human being.
A sexual ambiguity pervades the work, a thumbprint in the choreographer’s style, and this most fascinatingly alludes to the hermaphrodite nature of a swan. Khoo also scales the full tragic heights of Tchaikovsky’s score not solely as a piece of beautiful music but as a representation of the sexual frustration and emotional turmoil the composer experienced himself.
Dancing as the main swan, Khoo strips the creature off its gender entirely and explores the raw subtext that underlies the narrative. The entire work is in fact gender-free, disregarding the divide between male and female and presenting all five swans as equal beings.
As Khoo rightly stated in the programme note, the work “is the interstice that exists between the masculine and the feminine – it is IT – not HE, not SHE”. The outcome was extraordinarily powerful and deeply perceptive probing an intelligentsia which sucks audiences in.
Sharing this experience on the stage at Argotti Gardens were four local dancer swans Christina Aquilina, Florinda Camilleri, Christina Cauchi and Lynne Salamone Reynaud and Michael Pascault in the role of ‘The Man’ (The Prince).
The swans shone as individuals and their hoity-toity looks and flirtatious floorwork brought out the creature’s character most convincingly. Their work was refined but perhaps not as equally executed in their ensemble moments where the expressive possibilities of the choreography could have peaked better.
On the other hand, the aesthetically appealing fluid movements of Khoo’s dancing were matched perfectly by Pascault. Together they were the most effective of duos, Khoo’s fragility and upper body jitters corresponding magnificently against Pascault’s athleticism.
Displaying a platform of conflicting emotions, they have an omnipresent chemistry which embraces the uncertainty and psychological turmoil behind the story-reading.
Khoo’s dancing is ecstatic in every sense. He transcends a virtuousity which is unique and through his body language perpetuates an emotional and mental equilibrium which is overpowering. His choreography also reminisces over the original ballet, with his frequent inclusion of feather-light feet and elegantly poised arms which tremble with distrust. There was a certain urgency in the way these gestures were randomly and energetically interpolated, only to remind us of the distinctive choreographic traits in the original Swan Lake.
The pschological narrative of the story was supported by two short films depicting a modern-day prince who is tricked into the external glamour and beauty of life.
Created by Jonathan Camilleri, the footage was essentially sending out the message “what you see is not what you get”. Ultimately it became clear that there is a swan present in each and every one of us, that we as humans battle between black and white, good and evil, and what appears to be beautiful may indeed conceal a darker side.