I went to see a couple of months ago, and, obviously, my memory is sketchy on the details. Also, I can't find my programme so cannot recall who danced in it, nor who provided the music. There is a Guardian review, written presumably by someone who knows what they are talking about, which I don't.
It took place in the Linbury, the smaller theatre in the bowels of the Royal Opera House. The audience assembles beforehand in a small bar/waiting area. It is in some ways fascinating, and in other ways intimidating, to observe a ballet audience, especially one for a modern ballet, which is quite quite different than for opera, or concerts, or theatre. Intimidating, because I have never been an aspiring ballerina, and lack the chronically unhealthy underweight stature, nor do I walk with my toes pointed and my leg muscles extended. And I don't wear polo neck jumpers nor signs saying "I coulda been a ballerina don'tcha know".
Any enjoyment of the evening was ruined by the music, or, rather, the absence of music. The musicians consisted of a man with a cello. I don't think the notes he played were difficult, could have probably been managed by a teenager with Grade 5, although I acknowledge that the skill and professionalism lay in the counting and working with the dancers. He was accompanied by another bloke on laptop; I did wonder whether he was just checking his Facebook stream, but there was an noxious electronic noise emanating from somewhere.
Back in the Eighties I was quite into electronic music, admittedly mainly as it appeared in the pop charts - although I did dabble into its impact on contemporary music. Then I got very bored by too much unmusical innovation combined with absence of musical inspiration, almost as if the whole purpose was 'woot! We have these modern technology things and we're going to use them!'.
This Wuthering Heights music reminded me of all that Eighties wanky self-indulgence, but I think I would have found it passé and outdated quarter of a century ago. It certainly failed to capture the mystical atmosphere of the book, certainly falling a lot short of Kate Bush's seminal work.
I went in with an entirely open mind to the staging, choreography and narrative. There was no scenery as such, although there was use of several chairs, and, IIRC, a bench, which were sometimes used as scenery and sometimes as props for dancing with.
The ballet consisted of a series of pas de deux between several different couples, interspersed by a few solo dances. I could not fault the dancers - okay, they weren't Carlos Acosta/Tamara Rojo. I enjoyed the physicality of the dancers, but I just could not see what it had to do with Wuthering Heights the novel, which was a shame.
Admittedly, it did occur to me that it is several years since I have actually read the book, which is now on my metaphorical pile of 'books to (re)-read. There was one scene which had me convinced that there was a fight in a restaurant, but I don't recall Emily Brontë writing of that.
I was glad I went, and I did enjoy it, because of the dancing, but I was glad when it was over, because of the music. I have been to several modern ballets in my time, and I do enjoy them, probably more than traditional ballet, although I tend to prefer the music for trad works. At twelve pounds a ticket, it was worth the risk, and perhaps I shall venture again to other modern/contemporary ballets.
