In Extremis

Caroline Holden

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This photographic study explores capturing emotion in dance in Kenneth MacMillan’s ballet Manon and Kenneth Tindall’s ballet Casanova, both sensual yet ingenuous characters set in the 18th century, victims of and responsible for their own fates.

It looks at how the dancers express their character and feelings through the choreography, and the part costume, lighting and music play in the productions.

MacMillan’s Manon, based on Abbe Prevost’s novel Manon Lescaut was written between 1697-1763, first published in Paris in 1731, and premiered at Covent Garden with the Royal Ballet in 1974. Giacomo Casanova was born in 1725, and Tindall created Casanova a ballet of his life, that premiered at Leeds Grand Theatre in 2017 with the Northern Ballet.

Ian Kelly studied Casanova for years, wrote the biography Casanova, and became the dramaturg for the production. Casanova is described in the programme as, ‘Trainee priest and aspiring writer, polymath and musician. A man of vast intellect, creative and sexual energy, he is nevertheless plagued by depression and by an insecurity that the world may never take him, or his writings seriously’.

Now 50 years since Manon premiered, the theme of innocence corrupted by the need to survive in an avaricious society, is still relevant and contemporary even though it is set in 18th century France. MacMillan believed that design was absolutely integral to the identity and meaning of a choreographic work, and he worked with designer, Nicholas Georgiadis who set the ballet in pre-revolutionary France of the 1780s to reflect the precarious division between opulence and degradation.

Georgiadis was inspired by the Goncourt Brother’s Journal describing, ‘a picture of dereliction, with all its usurious exhaustion and tatty criminality, opening between burnt, ravaged, moth-eaten and rotten tapestry drapes . . . a sort of hole, full of bundles tied with string, piles of tow-ropes, unravelled silk and wool, a kind of cloth cesspit’. And he had the characters emerge on to the stage, through a cyclorama of rags cascading down the full height of the stage space, representing the poverty that divides the population of Manon from the beggars to the gentlemen, and how fragile the border is from survival and destitution.

The heroine’s struggle to escape poverty makes Manon one of the most dramatic and devastating of ballets. MacMillan said at the time, ‘Manon is not so much afraid of being poor as ashamed of being poor. Poverty in that period was the equivalent of a long, slow death.’ Her story is a battle for survival versus a desire for love. And while showing us passion, betrayal and unconditional love through his choreography, MacMillan clearly demonstrated how theatre is capable of dealing with all society’s concerns.

At the time of its premiere, audiences were more shocked by the fact that a woman could behave in such a sexually uninhibited way, and the question of the day was more feminist orientated depending on the dancer’s interpretation of Manon’s character. Antoinette Sibley, who the character was created on in rehearsal, saw her as a girl ‘who allowed it all to happen to her . . . I don’t think she’s a schemer – she only makes decisions when she has to.’ Lynn Seymour made her more ruthless and saw her and her brother as ‘cut from the same cloth, both bandits, using all they have to achieve what they want . . . she broke the rules and the punishment crushed her.’ Natalia Makarova understood her as an instinctive creature who lives for the moment, ‘extracting from it all the excitement she can. At the same time she fully knows that the day will come when she must pay the price . . . for the pleasure of living fully.’ And Sylvie Guillem’s Manon used her sexual allure to survive in a male-dominated world. And while other Manons died as desperate victims, limp as rags, Guillem fought on defying death itself.

Although well-received by the public, critics had reservations about the character’s motives, thinking Manon amoral. Mary Clarke wrote in The Guardian, ‘Basically, Manon is a slut and Des Grieux is a fool and they move in the most unsavoury company.’

An avid movie goer, MacMillan may also have seen the 1968 film Manon 70, directed by Jean Aurel and starring Catherine Deneuve, who is fashion conscious, free thinking and sexually liberated, challenging social conventions at the time.

MacMillan has been described as ‘the choreographer of ugliness, and abuse, and pain’, unafraid to tackle life’s darker themes, and dealing with them in the ‘safe’ environment of the world of ballet to powerful effect.

Jann Parry wrote in Different Drummer – The Life of Kenneth MacMillan that he took, ‘the damaged innocent, the vulnerable young person whose trust is betrayed. In many of his ballets, the key figure is the heroine, traumatised by events over which she has no control.’

On its 40th anniversary the Royal Ballet described Manon as an adult ballet. I see the characters as slightly older and more fleshed out than the more romantic Romeo and Juliet. MacMillan described them as ‘instinctive and ruthless as rogue children’ but this does not make her a ‘Nasty little diamond digger’ or ‘deceiver and destroyer of the male’ as some critics claimed.

The themes of guilt and betrayal are displayed, with the inevitability in which people under pressure betray themselves and others. MacMillan made ballets about real life and conveyed emotional truth through the language of the body.

Manon is abused by her brother Lescaut, Monsieur Guillot de Morfontaine, and finally the Gaoler. For MacMillan to include a choreographic representation of enforced fellatio in a ballet was controversial and unsettling. Although I have recently sat in an audience with much older men who were not necessarily disconcerted. The same as listening to people choose which cast they pay to see based on the dancer’s attractiveness rather than talent.

We see the poverty at the very beginning of the ballet, as the beggars mingle with the demi-monde, and Lescaut forces his mistress to witness the tumbrel carrying the convicted women for deportation warning her that this could be her fate. The scene is set for Manon’s arrival and her story plays out in front of us.

We know MacMillan was inspired by the works of German dramatist and revolutionary Georg Büchner, with his portrayal of Woyzeck a decade later in Different Drummer, which shows the exploitation of the poor by the military and medical establishments of the time. He may have also read Büchner’s first play Danton’s Death set during the French Revolution detailing social inequalities and the need for political change, when Danton says, ‘The world is chaos. Nothingness is the yet-to-be-born god of the world.’

Professor Ian MacGibbon said MacMillan was, ‘a romantic choreographer, but one with a cutting edge – a classicist of the age of anxiety’.

Tindall said of Casanova, ‘I had to think about how this character would have thought and behaved throughout his life, as we took a big chunk of it, and compacted it into two hours. It was really important for me to be able to evoke the worlds of the 18th century, the masquerade, the musicians, the church, the gambling halls, the rigalottos, these are something you can viscerally enjoy and be part of.

‘I wanted all the pointers to be in the right 18th century direction and to be correct. This is why I brought in an 18th century specialist to see how we could take a fresh perspective on that, and how we could deconstruct a period and the look of the costumes, and try to inject it with a modern edge so that it would appeal to a mass audience and bring this man to as many people as possible. To show you something you didn’t know about him. That he was not a libertine with a talent for survival as he is usually depicted.’

I find the presentation of Manon’s character on stage fascinating, as she seduces and manipulates the audience into forgiving her whims and misfortunes. I wanted to discover and capture the point in the ballet her emotions lift us beyond just feeling sorry for her to empathy. And this came in Act II, Scene 18 during a party at Madam’s house (a high class brothel) in Paris entitled ‘Manon and her admirers’. After a triumphant entry as Monsieur G.M.’s possession, she performs a seductive but strange solo with Des Grieux and Monsieur GM circling around her as the rest of the cast freeze, before she is lifted high and dispassionately passed from one man to another with one foot erect to make no mistake of Lescaut’s legacy for her. For this choreographic representation of manipulation and abuse, Massenet’s usually lyrical score becomes chilling, making the audience feel uncomfortable.

She was born and raised for this. Her only education on how to please and gain the highest bidder. We saw the devastating results of disobedience in MacMillan’s ballet Romeo and Juliet almost a decade earlier in 1965 when Juliet refuses to marry Paris. Although set in Renaissance Verona, the situation Juliet finds herself in is similar, as her father makes clear that if she doesn’t accept and marry his choice of husband for her she will be cast out of his house destitute. She chose love and ultimately death.

For Des Grieux to castigate Manon when she receives jewellery and furs is hypocritical, as a gentleman studying to be a priest living off his family’s favour. Manon was travelling to enter a convent when they met because she had no means of her own, and would know that to survive an elopement, she would need riches to keep her from poverty once her beauty fades. She had no choice other than to be a realist and his educated ideals only serve to make her situation worse.

MacMillan chose a selection of pieces from Jules Massenet’s work, other operas as well as his opera Manon, oratorios, art songs and orchestra suites, with ballet pianist Hilda Gaunt. These were orchestrated by British composer Leighton Lucas, and then reworked by Martin Yates in 2011 to unify and make it support the drama onstage further.

Yates said, ‘The romance and drama of Massenet’s music gave MacMillan the musical sound world that would reflect the drama of his ballet. It demonstrated perfectly his complete understanding of the function of dramatic music.’

This is fully realised with the cello solo before the final act, setting the tone for the fourth heartbreaking pas de deux.

Tindall worked with American composer Kerry Muzzey, a modern classical and film composer, to create the original orchestral score for Casanova. For Kerry, approaching his first ballet, the challenge was how to underscore the life of the man that sounds like now. Tindall said that Kerry tailor made the music for every minute of the dance.

There is a heart stopping pas de deux in the second act with Casanova and Bellino who is disguised as a contralto. This role was created on dancer Dreda Blow who said, ‘The music told the story so beautifully for this duet. We just needed to ride the wave of energy. It was so powerful when played by the orchestra – it gave us everything we needed. It carried me night after night, show after show!’ It is reported that Casanova was born in the wings of a ballet, and his career began with music as a violinist in the San Samuele theatre (it is rumoured that he may have helped Mozart finish his opera Don Giovanni), and ended with it in this ballet.

Capturing emotion in dance is not just about movement, but the dancers expressing their character and feelings. MacMillan became renowned for presenting emotional experiences like no other choreographer at the time.

MacMillan based the narrative structure of Manon on his previous three act ballet of Romeo and Juliet, and you can see visual echoes of the couple meeting in a crowded scene, Des Grieux declaring his love in a solo to a seated Manon. Their love story is revealed though a series of pas de deux including one set in a bedroom, and in the swamp Des Grieux desperately attempts to keep an exhausted Manon alive in a way reminiscent of Romeo’s disbelief that Juliet is dead. The corps de ballet’s ensemble dances provide the social context to the story.

MacMillan is renowned for choreographing the pas de deux first, and the rest of the ballet after, and for capturing ‘emotion in flight’.

The dance critic Clement Crisp described MacMillan as ‘at his most persuasive as an erotic poet, exploring passion with images of extreme beauty.’ And the first bedroom pas de deux is joyously sensual, as Manon throws back her arms in abandon, to a besotted Des Grieux. The dancer Alessandra Ferri said how MacMillan taught her to stop thinking and just feel. MacMillan’s narrative ballets have often been misinterpreted, as their main concern is not with sex, but with ‘the person destroyed by the social milieu’.

Manon’s first entrance in the ballet, as she steps excitedly down from the coach en pointe, is repeated in each act is a way appropriate to the world she finds herself in.

Des Grieux performs some of the most difficult solos and four pas de deux. Act III is a physically and emotionally exhausting finale, and MacMillan pushed it to extreme, with strenuous lifts and body flips conveying their emotional desperation.

MacMillan had planned a dream sequence as the prologue, but during rehearsals this became instead the opening scene of Act III, as a feverish Manon recalls her life.

With Casanova there are three significant pas de deux in the ballet; the first is with Casanova and an aristocratic nun M.M. in Act One, in Act Two with Bellino, and towards the end of the ballet with Henriette, each representing different aspects of Casanova’s relationships throughout his life.

The first is set in the Cardinal’s luxurious private apartments. Following the instructions on the note, Casanova arrives at the apartment and M.M. sets about a staged seduction for the benefit of her hidden lover, the voyeur de Bernis. They are interrupted by Bragadin who warns Casanova that the inquisition is coming for him.

The dancer who the role of M.M. the mistress to Cardinal de Bernis was created on, Ailen Ramos Betincourt said, ‘This pas de deux with Casanova has been the most daring I’ve done. It was purely sensual and very athletic, to enjoy with enthusiasm and fervour. The music is absolutely incredible, and gives the perfect balance of power and melody, and set the atmosphere for the scene.

‘I liked the big and imposing white hat (wimple), but to dance with it on would have been uncomfortable, so I take it off right at the beginning of the pas de deux.’

The second pas de deux in Act Two shows Casanova situated in Paris with his benefactor Madame de Pompadour. Intending to throw a party, Casanova auditions musicians. He hires Bellino and Casanova, uncertain of her true gender, is intrigued by her. She admires Casanova’s serious interests as a writer, and in turn reveals that she is a woman, and liberated she leaves.

In the Northern Ballet livestream, Casanova Unmasked Tindall described this pas de deux in Act Two with Bellino and Casanova as about masks, hiding the truth, and trust.

Bellino, danced by Dreda Blow said, ‘A lot of Kenny’s choreographic vocabulary is about trust. Luckily Giuliano (Contadini) and I had worked together on plenty of roles so we weren’t starting from scratch. He is an incredible partner because he is constantly feeling/responding to the moment, always present and adaptable. Kenny started building material with a lot of throwing my weight around and Giuliano catching me, off balance movement with him supporting me, and I had to learn to let go, allow and trust quite quickly!

‘Masking and hiding was definitely a strong motif throughout the ballet. Bellino is masquerading as a Castrato, hiding her true self which is what fascinates Casanova when they meet. Movements that hide/reveal, open/close, trust/guard became an important springboard for creating those duets. Quite quickly it became clear to me that the meat of this role wouldn’t only be the grand, impressive movements, but in the subtleties too – a quick glance, an intake of breath, a hesitant touch.’

Dreda went on to perform this pas de deux approximately 40 times, and the incredible off balance back bend moment, she described as both ‘terrifying and exciting’. ‘It got less terrifying and exhilarating as time went by and we knew the mechanics for it to be safe. I could let go of the fear and really indulge in the moment and it became fun. I was in good hands with Giuliano though. He would never let me fall, never let me hurt myself. I just had to be brave. There was total trust and abandonment. And the music captured that perfectly.’

Tindall said, ‘This moment (fall and catch) demonstrates how they built material from trust. It is pure precision and timing otherwise it would quite literally hit the floor. It’s beautiful articulation in a physical way.

‘A lot of the conversation here and vocabulary is trust and unmasking, and what it would take in the position Bellino is in, to do that with him, and him trying to earn it. So a big proportion of the vocabulary is unmasking yourself.

‘Casanova wears many masks in his time throughout life. In this ballet he plays many roles and it is a really important part that he’s able to adapt like that, to survive, to grow, to do the many things he did and so this is what that looks like in physical vocabulary for us.’

‘Bellino is extremely strong and guarded, but incredibly vulnerable at the same time,’ continued Dreda. ‘Throughout the duet she becomes more and more abandoned, totally opening herself to Casanova, baring her soul. I guess I just tried to capture her fragility, but cloak it in disguise and mystique. For me, she felt part human, part creature, almost alien-like . . . very alert and thoughtful and complicated. There are many intimate moments for her, but they weren’t difficult to play with such focused and professional colleagues.’

Tindall said how, ‘Eventually what happens in this relationship is he sets her free to be a woman, to be a soprano singer, which is a beautiful side to Casanova. That he’s not a bed notch libertine, but someone that actually elevates and helps women to move onto the next stage. This was a really important part of our story to tell.’

Dreda said how, ‘It took me a while to get used to the costume (and the cod piece!) but I knew it was right for the show and the character and I embraced the novelty of it. It wasn’t very comfortable to dance in, but of course the bulk of the duet was done undressed! Richard Mawbey’s wig design changed a lot. The original one was twice as voluminous! But the final version of the wig was stunning. I loved it and felt great in it.’

Casanova didn’t wear a wig for this production. Giuliano Contadini said that, ‘For the look of Casanova my white blond hair, was something I had done prior to the photoshoot and from the first few photos after make-up and lights were on, it was evident that was the look we were going for. I loved my white hair, and I’ll always refer to it as my Casanova hair.’

The third pas de deux in Act Two is with Casanova and Henriette. Casanova stumbles into Henriette, who is dressed as a soldier, in order to run away from an abusive husband. Casanova offers her shelter and they become lovers.

Giuliano said, ‘Henriette is the love of Casanova’s life, the one he will never forget. I remember rehearsing the pas de deux in the early stages and just crying while listening to the music, and watching Henriette tell the story of the baby she buried, and the one she left behind to escape her abusive husband. This pas de deux is intimate and delicate, and the music transpires sadness to hope for someone to come and rescue you and tell you that everything is going to be ok, which is something we can all relate to at some point in our lives.’

This role was created with Northern Ballet’s principal soloist Hannah Bateman who said, ‘Kenneth has an immense capacity for seeing and taking care of the smallest detail and always keeping in mind the overall project. He is completely immersed in the work, music, design, lighting and feel for the world he is creating. By the time he comes to the studio you are tasked with breathing life into characters that have been living in his imagination for years!

‘For Henriette I needed to be fully formed and in a state of crisis the minute she enters the stage. You are also responsible for maintaining and building the atmosphere from where Bellino has left it, so you have to step up and support Casanova and the ballet. Her storyline is tragic and has to come from a place of truth. It was emotionally draining but absolutely theatrically satisfying and exactly what we dancers love! I like to think of Henriette as a feminist before her time. What an absolutely awful situation she found herself in . . . the trappings of the patriarchy. Casanova was at least support in an otherwise dark and lonely existence. What would I have done in her position? I’d like to think I was as brave as her, but I hope I am never tested to those extremes. It was hard to establish her character but I actually love that sort of challenge, and working off Giuliano’s Casanova and watching Bellino’s plight before, really helped, truly inspired and fuelled my performance every night. Dreda and Giuliano were incredibly consistent and still spontaneous every single show. It was compelling viewing and only pushed me to deliver.’

Kenny described this third pas de deux as a great articulation of the flex point, flex pointe, moving between man and woman, not wanting to let go, not wanting to stay.

As well as the pas de deux, there are the smaller interlinking elements to this narrative ballet, and an extra scene was devised when the ballet came back into Northern Ballet’s repertoire in 2023.

I believe Casanova would have understood the court composer Antonio Salieri’s frustration at recognising for him someone like Mozart’s talent/Voltaire’s brilliance, but not to be taken seriously as an intellect and writer himself. As a result his insecurity and depression almost leads him to end his own life. This is dealt with in more detail with this extra scene before Casanova almost jumps off the stage/Westminster Bridge at the end of the ballet. In desperation, he thinks he sees his past loves Bellino and Henriette through the now darkened reflections in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, but cannot reach them. He is alone, almost stripped bare, in his darkest moment. His movements are raw and extreme showing his pain and sense of loss. Then a page of his memoir floats down, and another and another until the stage is littered with his memories, and the people who filled his life, and hope returns.

What we also see, is not just the orgies but the very real love affairs he had during his life, where he helped liberate the women he loved rather than keep them in conventional captivity at a cost to his own happiness. Compared to some of his contemporaries Casanova didn’t have that many sexual encounters. We just know about the ones he did have, because he wrote about them in his memoirs Histoire de ma vie, although sometimes protecting their identities. And his sexual freedom needs to be understood in the context of how people lived back then.

Christopher Oram designed the costumes for Casanova, with the female dancers skirts openly deconstructed, giving the impression of courtly attire while enabling the dancers to move freely. Madame de Pompadour’s costume was particularly impressive, but Bellino’s (masquerading as a man in order to work as a castrato singer) was quite extraordinary, with her breasts bound to disguise her female form (We see her brother binding them at the beginning of the second act and Casanova releasing her from this bond at the end of their pas de deux), and her short breeches featuring a large codpiece.

Casanova’s costumes constantly change and evolve from a sleeveless priest’s cassock at the beginning of the ballet; to being given a golden outfit for his assignation with the aristocratic nun M.M.; a red coat from his benefactor Senator Bragadin; and a black leather coat following his escape from prison.

For Manon the costumes were often lavish but the stench of poverty was to be ever present reflecting the precarious division between opulence and degradation. In the final act Manon disembarks from the convict ship distressed, in rags and her hair shorn.

Georgiadis researched 18th century paintings, and based the whore dressed as a boy in the brothel scene, on a portrait of Madam du Barry, King Louis XV’s last mistress, and the recurring sinister figure of the ratcatcher was taken from an etching.

Manon makes her entrance wearing a fresh looking pale blue gown at the beginning of the ballet; alights from the bed in her second pas de deux in a pretty petticoat with bows on the straps and ruffles of fabric, followed by the heavy luxurious fur coat and jewels presented by Monsieur GM; to a sumptuous black lace gown embellished with silver for Act II covered at first by an overcoat intricately decorated with more than 200 hundred bows.

Georgiadis created a heaviness of tone and hue with the burnt orange, dark brown and olive greens worn by Lescaut’s Mistress. The richness of these costumes is in contrast with the beggars resting by the coaches of the rich and sleeping at tables, emphasising the gulf between the haves and the have-nots.

In Manon, the lighting transformed the tiers of rags, (the ‘cloth cesspit’), ever present in the stage design of the first two acts, from resembling opulent drapes to dirty rags. Madame’s house while furnished with deep red drapes and chandeliers shows signs of disrepair in the crumbling walls and ragged upholstery. The ballet ends with mist rising from the dangling strands of Spanish moss in the Louisiana swamp.

While Casanova’s set design was based on revolving pillars that could represent the church when lit by the chancel lamp, the golden ballroom, and backdrop to the nun’s quarters. Panels representing the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles were lit from behind to create different moods, and the set appeared to quite literally descend on Casanova while being questioned by the inquisition. Casanova was imprisoned without trial at the top of the ‘Leads’, the terrible prison area under the roof of the Doge’s Palace in Venice covered with sheets of lead. He and another inmate Father Marino Balbi escaped by making a hole in the ceiling and lowering down into the courtyard of the Palace. While miming his incarceration a shaft of light created the effect of prison bars.

In Casanova the audience witnessed the seductive nature of the church and also its danger to those who are not satisfied with its teachings; we’ve been dazzled by hypnotic masquerades; we’ve gamed with the great and good; met with people who questioned the times and looked for alternative answers to the universe they lived in; and what I am left with is a man who when he lowered his mask wasn’t accepted by the age in which he lived – until later when he truly had time to write of his own experiences leaving a vast and visual history of the time in which he lived.

To understand him, I think, is to see the man in context, and that is what Tindall has shown us so beautifully and memorably in a way that will always remain with me. Such an incredible team – the knowledge that Ian Kelly shared from his autobiography of Casanova’s life, Kerry Muzzey’s stunning score, the set, costumes and lighting designers, the staff who worked with Tindall and the dancers who breathed life into this incredible man.

MacMillan’s Manon endures half a decade later, with Georgiadis’ stage design for Manon constantly moving from rich opulent drapes, to degradating rags, and finally the dangling strands of Spanish moss in the swamp, a lesson for us all, as we sit in one of the most beautiful opera houses in the world. While the ratcatcher haunts us as well as Manon, a reminder of those pushed to the extreme of their existence in a materialistic society.

The Royal Ballet’s 2023/24 Season celebrated the 50th anniversary of Kenneth MacMillan’s Manon and also celebrated the centenary of Nicholas Georgiadis

The US premiere of Casanova is being performed by the Orlando Ballet May 16-19 followed by the Milwaukee Ballet in November

Excerpts taken from Northern Ballet’s livestream ‘Casanova Unmasked’, the Northern Ballet Casanova programme notes, and ‘Different Drummer – The Life of Kenneth MacMillan’ by Jann Parry