Woolf Works Review: Revelling in Modern Dance
- jiggy J-J
- Mar 24, 2023
- 6 min read
I’d always felt like ballet was not for me. I thought it might be because I found it somewhat dull, or that ballet is often overly celebrated and revered at the cost of many other incredible dance styles. Perhaps it’s because in my youth I was told to take ballet before I was allowed to do street dance and hip hop like I wanted – my brief stint lasting only a couple months before I gave up and moved on as I so often did in my childhood. It makes sense that my attitude arose from this resentment of both having to take ballet, but also from giving up and wishing I stuck with it. Whatever my past feelings, I’m slowly coming to the realisation that I am totally enamoured with dance and ballet, or at least, modern dance and ballet. Modern dance performance does something that so many other mediums just aren’t able to achieve – a fusion of the past, present and future into an often wondrous spectacle. It’s no surprise then, that I did not leave halfway through Woolf Works as I thought I might with a whopping two hour and forty-five-minute runtime. From minute one I was hooked and it only drew me in deeper, wanting to experience every story, every movement and every set piece.
Woolf Works is a three-act (ballet triptych) stage performance by Wayne McGregor based on Virginia Woolf’s works, Mrs Dalloway, Orlando, and The Waves. Having not read any of these works, nor being very familiar with Virginia Woolf herself, I was excited to again watch something I had little to no context with. But what is evident is that Woolf explored deep emotions very thoughtfully and life changing experiences such as depression. It was probably one of the best experiences I’ve had just being in the theatre, in large part due to the formatting – separate performances divided into three with two intervals. Often when I go to the theatre, I find that I get uncomfortable in the leg squashing and sometimes neck aching seating. But the structure allowed for appropriate breaks and enough time for exploration around the beautiful Royal Opera House (ROH). Whenever I go, I’m always reminded of how fantastic a venue the ROH is and how inclusive and diverse its audiences are, despite the stigma of ballet being seen as typically an elitist pastime.
In this review I’d like to break down the three acts and discuss my thoughts of each, as they all seemed independent, despite remaining under this banner of Woolf, and the vignette-style storytelling felt accessible for individual review, with one idea being explored fully and coherently in its short time, before moving on to the next. Overall, Woolf Works presents a strong representation of Woolf’s ideas and writings, as themes were well explored and the visuals were stunningly descriptive. Blending a mix of live and recorded sound in Max Richter’s original score, the orchestra’s main instrument across all three stories was its strings, with incredible soloists and a section that played together, tightly and powerfully. Ballet’s form was performed in its eloquence - elongated, accentuated and elastic - and it served well the various emotive styles presented across the stories, as well as the string-based orchestral sound that was on display.
I Now, I Then
I Now, I Then was the most traditional version of “ballet” in one sense, showcasing the incredible movements and skill of individual performers, such as principal, Alessandra Ferri, and Joseph Sissens. The incredible set design was able to give it modern life by providing a sense of depth and scale through three monolithic and dominating hollow squares that rotated in place. They also provided and encouraged playful staging and performance, with characters disappearing or hiding behind the sculptures, making for a unique way to exit/enter stage and set new scenes. The orchestra was able to shine here, and every time they began to play the performance was elevated to new heights, demonstrating the power of strings to create emotionally vivid sound.
I Now, I Then also boasted incredible dancing and really highlighted strong duets. The evocative and dynamic performance between the two male dancers showed their skill and poise, while the beautiful canon movement of one female dancer following the delayed movements of the principal was almost ghostlike or silhouetted.
Having not read Woolf’s works, it is difficult for me to say what the narrative behind this section was, and it was not helped by the performance’s lack of clarity on that front. However, the dancers portrayed their connection to each other well and managed to evoke a sense of loss, longing and regret poignantly, even if that may not have been Woolf’s intended emotional landscape.
Becomings
Sometimes you will see something and be totally blown away by its ability to truly make you feel. You’re not always sure of what it was that caused it, but you know in your soul that you have been deeply affected. You question what it means to live and experience art, and you question what is possible to witness in this world. In this sense, Becomings was simply breath taking.
When the section ended, almost everyone in the theatre stood up in applause to express what a monumental impact the performance had. It had felt as though I was being taken on an adventure through a dangerous and destabilizing world, where faded sight and explosive sound guided your actions. Standing out above the rest of what was on display, Becomings alone should encourage you to watch Woolf Works, and is worth whatever ticket price you so desire to pay. The performance’s impact was bolstered by its ability to generate an environment of confusion and chaos, serving as the sense of progression and story even though no obvious narrative existed.
This was in no short part due to the sound and lighting. Not utilising any on-stage sets, the entire piece revolved around the intersecting of multicoloured piercing neon lasers that zoned off sections of the air and floor, providing architectural depth and revealing the smoky fog that permeated the stage. Alongside this, beaming spotlights perfectly highlighted the dance motifs and was used as another mechanism to shift scenes and immerse the audience in these halls of light. This was made all the more prominent by excellent black, gold and nude costumes, which reflected and emboldened the beauty on display.
The sound design was truly sensational in Becomings. Had the sound not been so good, we might have been looking at a strange cacophony of blinding lights. But the combination of techno/scientific noises and the chasing 7/8 rhythms of the strings provided an enormous sense of pace and adventure, keeping you constantly on edge. The glitch-pop and 16bit sounds reminded me of video game soundscapes, whilst the excellent integration of live orchestra with recorded sound provided a stage that felt alive. The development of the musical motifs perfectly matched the repetitive motifs within the movement and the rapid spins of dancers circling one another that, when coupled with fantastic blocking, foreshadowed the climactic culmination of dancers at the end of the piece.
The whole thing reminded me of a dystopian interrogation, being bombarded by blurred and bright lights alongside thumping, pulsing rhythms. The discombobulated and inhuman movements were discomforting, but perfectly encapsulated the weirdness and absurdity of the environment. At times I worried I would be taken out by performances that could have been more in sync and uniform. But I recalled the dynamic canon effect of I Now, I Then and reminded myself that there’s a subtle beauty in disunity.
Tuesday
Tuesday was most clear in its expression of themes and narrative. Opening with a monologue from Woolf’s suicide note read by Gillian Anderson, it was quickly evident that Tuesday was preparing to explore the female psyche, and deal with profound issues in women’s experiences including mental health and depression.
Tuesday is almost a one-note thirty-minute scene, and I say that in the sincerest way possible. The scene unfolds as the principal comes to grip with committing suicide, watching memories of her life play out around her and toying with the idea of drowning herself, both figurately in her thoughts, and literally in the sea. This idea is well represented as Young ROH youth dancers come through to remind her of siblings, children, memories, and joy, whilst the return of the ensemble resembles drowning in a sea of dance, with the principal weaving in and out of fellow performers, moving periodically in solidarity, then in unison with the others.
Strong themes of childbirth, caring and parenthood abound as female dancers constantly graze their stomachs and reflect upon the children playing. It made me wonder if Woolf’s experiences arose with post-partum depression, and Tuesday left ample room to let your curiosity wander and imagine what thoughts plagued her mind during her lifetime. The staging, set and colouring were much simpler in this section, but were used to strong effect to connote the beach/ocean environments and the worsening mental states through contrasting light and dark colours.
Though I was let down by an ending that felt somewhat lacklustre, missing that emotional element that was present through most of the performance, the piece overall led Woolf Works out with grace.
Final Thoughts
Woolf Works not only does an interesting job of designing a wonderful theatre experience with its triptych, vignette-style storytelling, but executes its sensory vision expertly through dynamic set design and wonderful movements and performance. In a way, there’s something for everybody throughout the three pieces, and it would be hard to imagine that audiences aren’t able to connect with at least some of the aspects presented. Although narrative elements could have been better expressed and developed, the aural and visual stimulation will leave you in awe, especially in Woolf Works’ incredible middle feature, Becomings. If you are looking for a meaningful and thought-provoking experience, I cannot recommend Woolf Works highly enough.
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