07-01-2006 – Irish Times – Mercury Rising
A ballet set to Queen songs? What could be more obvious? As it prepares to open in Ireland, Arminta Wallace reports from Cape Town on a show that has wowed South Africa
Are you ready? Are you ready for this? Are you hanging on the edge of your seat? If you recognise those words, you’re probably well disposed towards Queen in general and Freddie Mercury in particular, as they come from Another One Bites the Dust .
The thing is that, although Mercury is technically dead, he definitely hasn’t gone away. Over the past few years he has turned up on a Royal Mail commemorative stamp, as the hero of a Salman Rushdie novel and as the composer of the world’s favourite tune – in a mobile-phone poll, 600,000 people in 66 countries voted We Are the Champions their favourite singalong song. He has even, and this is admittedly something of a backhanded compliment, had a crustacean named after him. In the waters of Bawe Island, in Mercury’s birthplace of Zanzibar, a type of isopod is quietly living in the coral under the moniker Cirolana mercuryi N Bruce.
In the cultural-icon department, then, it’s still very much a case of Mercury rising. And where there’s an icon there’s a marketing opportunity. You want books? Choose from at least 11 biographies. You want CDs? The Solo Collection will provide more Mercury than you’ll ever need: a 10-CD, two-DVD box set with everything from a cappella mixes of familiar songs, through unused video out-takes, to snatches of orchestral sessions – and an interview with Mercury’s mum.
But what’s really weird is that, in the live-performance department, Mercury still treads the boards with impressive regularity. The “official” musical We Will Rock You , which Brian May and Roger Taylor, Queen’s guitarist and drummer, wrote with the comedian Ben Elton, has been seen by almost one and a half million people since it opened at the Dominion Theatre in London, in 2002. Towards the other end of the showbiz scale, Steve Littlewood has become a regular UK fixture with his shows The Great Pretender and Mercury & May – and he’ll be rocking the Legends Bar, on Blackpool’s Central Pier, for much of the summer, if you happen to be passing.
It was only a matter of time before somebody hit on the idea of setting a ballet to Mercury’s music. The French choreographer Maurice Bejart got in on the act first, with his 1997 Sadler’s Wells show Ballet for Life, with music by Mercury and Mozart and costumes by Gianni Versace. On a bigger scale by far, though, is the South African extravaganza Queen at the Ballet, which has been wowing audiences in Cape Town for four consecutive seasons. Given that it’s coming to Ireland this month, said the organisers, would we like to go to Cape Town’s Artscape theatre for a sneak preview? Would we heck.
It’s an odd experience, mind you, slipping into a packed theatre at the end of a continent you’ve never set foot on before, to attend a show based on music you know inside out. It’s a bit like crashing somebody else’s party but bringing your own iPod. An audience of diehard fans – the lady sitting next to me declares herself to be a balletomane, or ballet enthusiast, who has been bringing friends and family to see Queen at the Ballet since it opened – greets each set piece with rapturous applause.
The feeling of dislocation is swiftly dispelled by the kaleidoscope of colour and sound that is this show’s speciality. No plot, no narration, just a high-energy swirl of movement that is given musical depth by the presence of a full orchestra, two solo singers and an operatic soprano on stage, and momentum by a superbly arranged, fast-moving parade of hit songs. Death on Two Legs , Lazin’ on a Sunday Afternoon , Killer Queen , Under Pressure – the first act moves so fast that before you know where you are it’s the interval.
The second act is more substantial, which means even bigger, faster numbers, most of them featuring the full company, as well as the dancers playing Mercury, his lover, the women in his life and Master Time – the latter dressed as a clown and riding a bicycle around the stage with irritating persistence, a conceit I could live without. I love the costumes, though – black and white with splashes of colour, and glam enough to satisfy even Mercury – and I especially love the way the voice of the soprano, Zanne Stapelberg, soars with spine-shivering strangeness over the whole confection. Take a bow, orchestral arranger Michael Hankinson. Overall, however, this is not a show that stretches the artistic imagination. It’s about pressing buttons of recognition – ah, yes, there’s the flamenco interlude from Innuendo, and here are some beautifully constructed classical pas de deux for the balletomanes, and how about a spot of break-dancing: remember break-dancing? – while getting your feet tapping. Which is not to say the dancers don’t work extremely hard; as, indeed, do the two solo singers, Duncan Royce and Luciano Zuppa. And it would take a hard heart not to get swept up in the emotions of the show-stoppers: Don’t Stop Me Now, Barcelona, Bohemian Rhapsody and, best of all, Radio Gaga.
In the foyer afterwards, Sean Bovim, the show’s quarter-Irish but mostly Norwegian choreographer, explains that he conceived Queen at the Ballet in abstract terms. “I particularly wanted not to tell the story,” he says. “Instead I wanted to try and convey Freddie Mercury’s zest for living.” What was it like to work with a combination of classically trained dancers and a rock soundtrack? “Different,” he says, with enigmatic Nordic understatement. “Of course you’re using the basic set of ballet steps, but, well, telling a ballerina to roll over her points and on to her knees isn’t really in my job description. We had a lot of damaged knees to begin with.”
Why the decision to use two singers rather than one to play Mercury? “If you listen to Queen, the way they overlaid the harmonies on their album tracks, it’s a lot for one singer to manage in live performance,” he says. “With two they can share the load. They also capture the two sides of Freddie’s voice – and personality.”
For Chris Goodey, an Irish businessman and Queen fan, bringing Queen at the Ballet to Ireland has been as much a labour of love as a business undertaking. He and his wife first saw the show on a visit to South Africa. They have since moved to the picture-postcard town of Franschhoek, a jewel of a place in the midst of wineries, cherry farms and the softly rising peaks of the Maluti mountains. Maybe his next project, I suggest after spending an all-too-short day there, would be to bring Franschhoek to Ireland. Goodey restricts himself to a shrug and a wry smile. “The show has captured the imagination of the public in South Africa, so it made sense to bring it to a wider audience,” he says.
Goodey has promised to donate 10,000 from the proceeds of the eight-night run to the Nelson Mandela Foundation. Another good reason to fluff your hair, buff your shoes and get along to the Point. Are you ready?
