By Francesca Corno
Rating: 5 stars
I entered the halls of the Royal Opera House on opening night of the ballet Manon with very few expectations and an open mind. Though I appreciate ballet, it would be deceitful for me to define myself as a connoisseur – my personal experience with dance being limited to a measly year when I was seven. Despite this, the literature promised an exploration of love, desire and human frailty, and I was intrigued.
Manon is a dark tale centred around prostitution and materiality in eighteenth- century France, with occasional reprieves of (tragic) youthful romance. The young female protagonist, Manon (Francesca Hayward), is caught between her love for a penniless student, Des Grieux (Marcelino Sambé) and the material security offered by Monsieur GM (Gary Avis), a wealthy older man, in exchange for her body.
Kenneth Macmillan’s choreography – dating back to the 1970s – is edgy and, at times, harrowing. Its excellence can be found in the smaller details, which humanise the ballet, and evoke a variety of different emotions as it progresses towards its bleak ending. The playful hugs and teasing smiles between Hayward and Sambé in their pas de deux embody youthful, blossoming romance. These are soon, however, replaced by Monsieur GM’s chilling obsession with Manon as Avis rubs his face against her satin pointe shoe, Manon’s discomfort palpable as Hayward gracefully leans away.
In Manon’s story, the audience is brought to reflect on the impossibility of the protagonist’s situation. A life of luxury as a courtesan under Monsieur GM, a haughty man who throws coins at the poor and laughs as they scramble to pick them up, is within reach. Yet what of the happiness she experiences with the fresh-faced, though impoverished, de Grieux? What is best for her, as a young woman living in an unforgiving society?
The performance was (dare I be cliché) hauntingly beautiful, as Macmillan’s ballet exquisitely portrays the complexities of the narrative, and does justice to the original novel, Manon Lescaut by Antoine François. The few expectations I had upon entering were easily surpassed, as I found myself completely immersed in the tragic tale unfolding before me. The skillful performance of the cast was incredibly moving as they brought each character to life with both grace and emotion, the echoes of which lingered long after the final curtain fell. Manon is not merely a ballet, but a profound exploration of the consequence of our choices in a world replete with moral ambiguity.
