Figaro at the Ballet

Although my knowledge of high culture is not great, I think I can be forgiven for thinking that, in buying tickets at the State Opera House for The Marriage of Figaro, I was going to see an opera.

This turned out not to be the case: this marriage was to be sorted in ballet form, albeit with operatic music.

And this was not your father’s ballet either. There were mini-trampolines. And slides. And a zip line. Oh, and did I mention that the last half of the ballet was performed with dancers slipping and sliding around on water-covered plastic sheeting? To say nothing of the video of scenes of World War II projected onto the set.

That all said, when the dancers were dancing it was pretty straight ahead pointe shoes and leaping around. At least when they weren’t doing the jive.

All of this in a gilded theatre fit for a king to a half-filled but enthusiastic crowd.

We enjoyed the entire 90 minute spectacle and Oliver may never see an old-school ballet without wondering where the buckets are.


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