★★★★

“unique, mysterious, dreamlike, ethereal and challenging”

Since the beginning of time humankind has had a fascination with the unknown. Our imaginations and desires have been fired to explore the world, and beyond, to its limits. One of the greatest and simplest discoveries that this quest has revealed is the realisation that deep space and the deep sea are not that different. What is curious, though, is that we spend more time reaching out into space, while much of our own planet – under the sea – remains unexplored. This is the starting point, and the focus, of Sir Wayne McGregor’s latest work, “Deepstaria”.

The title comes from one of the ocean’s more mysterious jellyfish. A fragile, gossamer-thin creature. Ghost like and elusive. Its full name is ‘Deepstaria Enigmatica’, which is apt as McGregor’s dance piece is a very enigmatic affair. Collaborating with Oscar-winning sound designer Nicolas Becker, music producer LEXX and lighting designer Theresa Baumgartner, he has created something quite unique but, like bodies lost in space, we’re never really sure where it is going. There are clear references to the deep sea, and hints of outer space; and the vast unknown is symbolised by being plunged intermittently into a void of darkness. It is through a burst of this episodic blackness (courtesy of something called Vantablack Vision) that we are led into the dance.

Nine dancers inhabit the space. As though underwater their movements are floating. Aqueous and boneless. Sometimes in slow motion, sometimes gathering momentum, reflecting unknown currents that propel them. They emerge from rockpools of light, fluid and agile. McGregor’s choreography is mesmerising and the dancing meticulous. The music throbs, tethered to every sinew in mood and rhythm. But then a jolt severs the connection, and we are left in the void again. It is bewitching and disturbing.

The dancers leave the ocean; we appear to be on a shoreline. The light ebbs and flows like shallow waves. Baumgartner’s design certainly comes to the fore with some breathtaking effects. Slanting beams become fine rain with astonishing realism. Red hot washes alternate with marine blue mists. Through these sequences the performers ripple. Initially near-naked, later evolving into androgynous figures in Ilaria Martello’s diaphanous costumes – the deep-sea references underscored beautifully.

The experience is almost like gazing into a giant aquarium. We are transfixed, yet it is excruciatingly monotonous. Exquisitely so, nevertheless. Our senses are thrilled but the effect never quite reaches our heart. Like the musical soundtrack it scratches at the emotions until we almost feel we have had enough. Yet we never switch off. The balletic quality of the performers repeatedly draws us back into their complex world. It is fathomless and unfathomable. Like its gelatinous namesake, “Deepstaria” is unique, mysterious, dreamlike, ethereal and challenging. Sir Wayne McGregor CBE is a trailblazing choreographer who innovatively dips his toes into other artforms. With this show he dives headfirst into the depths. It is ultimately a thrilling collaboration.

THE MAGIC FLUTE

Wilton’s Music Hall

★★★★

“It is an ensemble piece, and the voices are all as fantastic as the libretto is fantastical”

When February draws to a close and we’ve just about had enough of the relentless drops in temperature and dark nights, we inevitably start dreaming of escaping to more tropical climates. The Creole-tinged doorway with its carved panels set in the crumbling façade of Wilton’s Music Hall currently provides such a gateway. For beyond the worn stone and peeled paint, we find ourselves wandering into the heart of the jungle. Simon Bejer’s lush, evergreen set (adapted for this revival by Lucy Fowler) draws us right into the centre of Charles Court Opera’s reinterpretation of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute”. At first, we don’t notice the figure entwined in a coil of vines centre stage, until the piano shifts from the minor to the major chords and the three attendants of the Queen of the Night swoon over the handsome figure that is Tamino (Martins Smaukstelis), a rather posh explorer lost in the wilderness and confusion.

There is plenty of opportunity for the audience to become lost as we try to follow the fantastical narrative, but the clear-cut performances offer a solid guide through the overgrown and illogical plot twists. John Savournin’s direction lets the dialogue and libretto cut through, highlighting the comedy of the piece. And although we might sometimes miss the heightened dynamics of a full orchestra, David Eaton’s solo piano accompaniment generously supports the fine voices on stage. There is a simplicity to the staging that is camouflaged by clever use of puppetry and masks, and with Ben Pickersgill’s atmospheric lighting this is a lush visual production.

Smaukstelis, as Tamino, is a little boy lost. A little bit posh, and a lot out of his depth. But never fear, Matthew Kellett’s sprightly Papageno pitches up, full of Cockney swagger and a zest for claiming undue credit for rescuing the hapless Tamino. It isn’t long before they are both entangled in the adventure – Papageno looking for love and Tamino having it inexplicably thrust upon him in the form of Pamina (Alison Langer), held captive by the imposing Sarastro. Langer’s Pamina is vulnerable and wide-eyed with an even wider Soprano range that is invariably moving. Peter Lidbetter’s Mohican-headed Sarastro complements her with rich base tones, while the full company fill all the spaces in between. It is an ensemble piece, and the voices are all as fantastic as the libretto is fantastical.

If the story comes across a touch confounding and convoluted, the characterisation shines bright. Eleri Gwilym’s Queen of the Night is part Amazonian warrior and part Voodoo priestess. Joe Ashmore, as Sarastro’s ill-fated, hard-done-by Monostatos, is a bit of a lecherous cad, yet his tongue-in-cheek portrayal is somehow endearing. When Sarah Prestwidge’s Papagena makes a late appearance to steal her male namesake’s heart, the puppetry and costume take centre stage, and the magic of Mozart’s opera are more than glimpsed at. It is a small and pared down production, but its inventiveness enchants us. John Savournin’s and David Eaton’s modern English version harks back to the traditionalism of its message but feels bang up to date. The crux of the story seems to focus on the advantages and merits of wisdom. Of patience and knowing when to keep quiet instead of repeating unqualified false truths. And above all of learning not to take everything you hear at face value.

It’s a jungle out there indeed. But every now and then it’s possible to escape for a couple of hours and get lost in escapism and entertainment. Charles Court Opera know how to deliver, and with “The Magic Flute” they have once again conjured magic.

DEEPSTARIA

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

★★★★

“unique, mysterious, dreamlike, ethereal and challenging”

DEEPSTARIA

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

Reviewed on 27th February 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Ravi Deepres

Previously reviewed at this venue:

DEEPSTARIA

DEEPSTARIA

DEEPSTARIA

THE MAGIC FLUTE

Wilton’s Music Hall

★★★★

“It is an ensemble piece, and the voices are all as fantastic as the libretto is fantastical”

THE MAGIC FLUTE

Wilton’s Music Hall

Reviewed on 26th February 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Bill Knight

Previously reviewed at this venue:

The Magic Flute

The Magic Flute

The Magic Flute

JOIN US