It’s hard to overstate the significance of Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake, not only in the world of dance but in popular culture and societal attitudes.

“There are very few works of art that change people’s lives,” Sarah Crompton says in the programme notes. “Fewer still that alter the landscape of the culture.” From the moment it opened at Sadler’s Wells in 1995, “the ripples began to make a tidal impact”.

When I saw this production was coming to Sheffield Lyceum as part of the Next Generation 30th anniversary revival tour, I immediately asked to review it, even though it was still a year away. I discovered people who set alarms in a bid to be first in the ticket queue, some who’ve attended every tour since its inception, and others fulfilling a lifetime ambition by finally seeing it.

The audience was gloriously diverse, and everyone I spoke to was blown away by the performance, whether it was their first time or their fifth. I wonder if the Gen Z in the crowd realised what this ballet represented at the time.

“It’s difficult now, down the telescope of history, to realise just how radical and game-changing Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake was,” writes Crompton. Although there had been multiple versions of Tchaikovsky’s score before, the swans remained resolutely female. But Bourne’s production is not, as some have called it, an ‘all-male Swan Lake’. Yes, his flock of swans are all male, and that changes the dynamic, but there’s so much more to it than that.

The love story is between two men, one bound by the constraints of membership of the monarchy under the gaze of paparazzi, another cursed to only be his true self by night. Celebrating sexual and gender nonconformity, the ballet caused shockwaves in the early 1990s, a time when the law prohibited homosexuals from serving in the armed forces, adopting children or getting married.

In some ways, we’ve come so far. But in the context of recent retrograde steps, this production feels more radical today than it would have done ten years ago. What a way to break down barriers, though. The ensemble is phenomenal, with its mix of ballet, contemporary dance and natural observation taking over the stage like a force of nature. ‘Do not feed the swans’, says a sign by the lake, and you think, ‘please do’.

Previous reviews talk about the power, the masculine energy, the physicality. That’s all true, as the people in the front row who were splashed with sweat as it flicked from the slicks down the dancers’ sinews will testify. However, the way this all combines with grace, poise and lyrical beauty is the triumph of Bourne’s choreography. Special mention to James Lovell as the Prince and Rory Macleod as the Swan for delivering such a compelling connection.

How three hours of dance can take you on an emotional rollercoaster where you’re edge-of-your-seat terrified at one turn, belly-laughing in another, and crying tears of devastation the next is beyond me. This is Bourne’s alchemy and it’s absolutely mesmerising. 

By Amy Stone, Sheffield Correspondent

Main image: Jackson Fisch as The Swan and Stephen Murray as The Prince. Photo: Johan Persson.

 

Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake is at Sheffield Lyceum until May 17, 2025. For more information, click here.