Yet another depiction of wartime combat, Ivan Perez’ full-length ballet fails to discover a new language for a theme explored by every choreographer from MacMillan to Maliphant.
It is said that the front-line soldier’s experience is an alternation of utter hell and crushing tedium. Sad to say, Young Men, the new First World War commemoration from the BalletBoyz, is merely something close to hellishly tedious.
It all works because this doesn’t feel like a period piece — the story of young men going to war is not one consigned to history, sadly. This is the endless cycle of boys throwing themselves into the abyss. Fighting and falling, fighting and falling. You could accuse…
Cojocaru’s dancing has a moonlit glow, moving in sorrowful ripples.
A lean of the torso to indicate longing, a bow of the head to suggest reflection, and outstretched hands that tenderly hold his precious Swan Queen. Vasiliev is not a ‘guest artiste’ on professional auto-pilot, but a committed performer whose characterisation almost …
For Cojocaru it’s a breeze. She’s the most feather-like of dancers — assuming that feather is made out of graphene, or some other ultra-light, ultra-strong wonder material.