★★★★

“a spectacular fusion of the traditional and modern, of classical opera and Cuban flavour”

Carlos Acosta’s Carmen is the choreographer and dance legend’s second adaption of Bizet’s classic opera, following a one-act production in 2015, and it sparkles with life, featuring the original music and additional compositions by Martin Yates, Yhovani Duarte and Denis Paralta. The Acosta Danza company, formed by Acosta to highlight the dancers of his native Cuba, deliver a spellbinding and tightly choreographed performance, led by the spectacular and emotive dancing of twin leads, Laura Rodríguez as the coquettish Carmen and Alejandro Silva as Don José, a soldier who falls madly in love with her.

The piece opens with a still scene, a man is crouched weeping over the body of a woman; other people stand around in shock, including the resplendently dressed Escamillo, a matador. From the large circular opening at the back of the stage, its circumference illuminated in orange and the centre a dusky blue, enters Acosta as the Bull – a character added by the choreographer that symbolises fate. In silence, the Bull drags Carmen and José to the front of the stage, stands them up, and places them into the positions that led to the death: José stabbing Carmen in a fit of jealousy over her relationship with Escamillo. This action will be repeated three times throughout the performance, emphasising the predestined nature of the event. In this way, the choreographer and company leader takes the role of on-stage director, reminiscent of the many hours of practice behind the final work.

The choreography throughout is elegant and the interplay between Carmen and José is wonderful. Scenes of flirtation, rage, entrapment and hesitancy are all vividly enacted as Rodríguez alternately draws in and repels Silva, the latter’s frustration becoming ever more pronounced until the piece’s climatic act of violence that brings us back to striking opening tableau. The contrast between this tumultuous entanglement and the simplicity of Carmen’s relationship with the matador is clearly evoked in both choreography and Tim Hartley’s staging. Gone is the dynamic between an aloof Carmen and beseeching José and gone is the comparatively elaborate set of José’s ornately designed bedroom. Carmen and the torero, performed by Enrique Corrales, dance together passionately, giving themselves to one another in a set devoid of other distractions, the unadorned nature of the scene reflective of their uncomplicated mutual desire.

Throughout, the staging is effective. The aforementioned circular opening evoking the burning Andalusian sun of the piece’s setting, with different projections within it, such as olive trees, adding further detail. A simple cage of bars stands in for a prison, and a set of tables and chairs with projected barrels behind becomes a bar. Working within this space, the dance corps are excellent. The flamenco influenced variation that opens the second act with an explosion is especially riotous and exuberant, exhibiting the skill of all the members of the group, with Zeleidy Crespo distinguishing herself.

This production of Carmen is a spectacular fusion of the traditional and modern, of classical opera and Cuban flavour and is a stunning showcase for the versatile Danza Acosta dance corps.

THE BECKETT TRILOGY at the Coronet Theatre

★★★★★

“Lovett’s physical performance is totally captivating and anchors this exceptional work of theatre”

The Beckett Trilogy is a stage production of three of the Nobel prize-winning writer Samuel Beckett’s novels Malloy, Malone Dies and The Unnameable by the Gare Saint Lazare Ireland company. Adapted for the theatre by performer Conor Lovett and director and designer Judy Hegarty Lovett, the treatment allows the writer’s absurdist genius to shine through, the solo performer embodying all the isolation, confusion, pain, and emptiness that are the hallmarks of Beckett’s work.

Conor Lovett produces a central performance of pulsating power. Serving as a narrator for the stories, he slides effortlessly between quiet perplexity and deafening explosions of rage, mimicking the voices of other characters and patrolling the empty stage. The piece is also extremely funny: the characters’ various degraded interactions with authority, sexuality and death are described and the audience is invited to laugh at the farcical nature of life and Lovett elicits a rapturous response from the audience. While telling stories, he contorts himself into positions which are sometimes held, the performer appearing to forget how he has found himself in a pose, as he loses the thread of the narrative. Lovett’s physical performance is totally captivating and anchors this exceptional work of theatre.

The staging is minimalist, the first two sections featuring nothing more than an empty stage with a circular spotlight or a ring of light projected on the floor, the work of lighting designer Simon Bennison. The final piece of the trilogy sees a change. Lovett stands with a long drape hanging at the back of the stage and a spotlight before him, throwing an enormous shadow onto the drape. The position of the light illuminates his face giving him an otherworldly aspect and this lighting technique is especially effective when, passing a hand in front of himself, its shadow is thrown over his own face partially obscuring him from view. In this last section, Lovett remains largely in his position, as if unable to move from the spot, and it is here that the play’s focus on language as both essential to the human condition and utterly inadequate as a method of communication is clearest.

Within this set, the cyclical and thorny beauty of the writing flourishes. The language of the play is dense yet halting, stopping and starting, shouting, ruminating, equivocating and Lovett perfectly enacts Beckett’s assessment of human life. Facing the eternal questions of life and death, our answers can only be at best partial and repetitive, with many false starts and new beginnings that lead nowhere. This confusion and incompleteness is rendered both moving and funny. As the narrators pause, often losing their train of thought, they also ask questions out towards the audience, which hang unanswered, despite the response being clear to all those in the theatre: ‘what was I saying?’ ‘Where was I?’ The fractured dialogue between performer and audience places the spectator in a position akin to that of an unresponsive and uncaring universe that sees the plight of humanity yet does nothing to intervene.

The Beckett Trilogy is a masterful adaptation of work of the twentieth centuries’ great writers, by a company that has been described by the New York Times as ‘unparallelled Beckett champions’. On the basis of this performance, the title is certainly warranted.

CARLOS ACOSTA’S CARMEN at Sadler’s Wells Theatre

★★★★

“a spectacular fusion of the traditional and modern, of classical opera and Cuban flavour”

CARLOS ACOSTA’S CARMEN at Sadler’s Wells Theatre

Reviewed on 2nd July 2024

by Rob Tomlinson

Photography by Cristina Lanandez

Previously reviewed at Sadler’s Wells venues:

CARLOS

CARLOS

THE BECKETT TRILOGY at the Coronet Theatre

★★★★★

“Lovett’s physical performance is totally captivating and anchors this exceptional work of theatre”

THE BECKETT TRILOGY at the Coronet Theatre

Reviewed on 22nd June 2024

by Rob Tomlinson

Photography by Ros Kavanagh

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE BECKETT TRILOGY

THE BECKETT TRILOGY