★★★★★
Swan dive into the sublime: Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake soars again!
Walking into The Lowry’s winter wonderland, where towering Christmas trees adorned the foyer, I could sense an atmosphere of expectation. The air buzzed with anticipation, and snippets of conversation about the evening’s production filtered through the crowd. Little did I know that this would be one of the most transformative theatrical experiences of my life.
Since childhood, I have been a frequent attendee of the theatre, opera, and dance performances, including numerous versions of Swan Lake. Now, as a theatre critic, my immersion in the performing arts has brought a certain cynicism; it is rare for a production to surprise me, let alone leave me speechless. Yet this evening rekindled a long-lost, child-like wonder for the stage.
This production marks the 30th anniversary of Matthew Bourne’s version of Tchaikovsky’s 1877 ballet Swan Lake. Directed and choreographed by Bourne, with Tchaikovsky’s timeless score, Lez Brotherston’s evocative sets and costumes, and Paule Constable’s exquisite lighting, it was already an acclaimed production.
Over its lifetime, it has earned more than 40 international awards and has the distinction of being the longest-running full-length ballet and the most successful dance theatre production of all time. The addition of The Next Generation subtitle reflects Bourne’s dedication to nurturing young dancers, notably through his Cygnet School.
Although three decades old, Bourne’s production remains groundbreaking. Its reinvention of classical ballet—swapping delicate, feather-clad ballerinas for powerful, bare-chested male swans—still feels radical, perhaps even more so now given the broader conversations about gender and representation. Sarah Crompton aptly notes that this production “broke down walls,” liberating ballet from traditional confines and redefining its cultural significance.
When the audience settled into their seats, the stage displayed the silhouette of a swan. As Tchaikovsky’s opening notes filled the auditorium, the silhouette seemed to come alive and take flight—a symbolic gesture that set the tone for the evening.
The plot, partially inspired by the British Royal Family’s 1990s-era scandals, offers a modern and deeply human reinterpretation of the original Swan Lake. Bourne weaves themes of repression, identity, and longing into a story about a prince trapped in the suffocating constraints of monarchy.
Critics initially feared the all-male swans would veer into parody or camp, but instead, the production is bold, sensual, and profoundly moving. What’s more, this version feels like a love letter to Tchaikovsky himself—a closeted gay man whose own struggles with societal expectations resonate throughout Bourne’s narrative. Bourne’s fearless innovation and Tchaikovsky’s hauntingly beautiful score make for an inspired collaboration across time.
In contrast to the original 1877 ballet, which centres on Prince Siegfried’s doomed love for the cursed Odette, Bourne’s reimagining places identity and self-acceptance at its core. Where Tchaikovsky’s swans embody fragile femininity and unattainable love, Bourne’s swans are feral, masculine, and primal. This shift in perspective transforms the Swan from a romantic ideal to a projection of the Prince’s psyche, offering a darker, more psychological interpretation.
The choreography reflects this thematic evolution, eschewing the precision of classical ballet in favour of raw, animalistic movements that evoke untamed energy.
The cast included Jackson Fisch as The Swan, Stephen Murray as The Prince, Ashley Shaw as The Queen, Bryony Wood as The Girlfriend, and Benjamin Barlow Bazeley as The Private Secretary. Each performer brought unparalleled depth and energy to their roles, creating characters that felt simultaneously mythical and deeply real.
From the first act’s lighthearted humour to the second act’s soul-stirring intensity, the audience was enraptured. Laughter erupted during the Prince’s interactions with his low-class girlfriend, amplified by brilliant props (the corgi puppet deserves its own mention). The theatre scene—parodying high-society pretension—was delightfully absurd.
The choreography is the heartbeat of Bourne’s Swan Lake, and its genius lies in its ability to transcend traditional ballet conventions while still maintaining a rigorous technical foundation. In the lake scene, Fisch’s hypnotic movements blended fluidity with explosive ferocity, capturing both the Swan’s grace and its untamed wildness.
The ensemble of swans moved as a cohesive unit, their sharp, angular gestures contrasting with the elegance of the original choreography’s pas de deux. Their synchronised hissing and stomping grounded the production in a visceral, almost predatory energy. Particularly striking was the iconic pas de deux between the Prince and the Swan, where Fisch and Murray created a magnetic tension that oscillated between tenderness and raw intensity.
Bourne’s choreography doesn’t simply illustrate a story; it inhabits it, using every physical detail to convey emotional subtext. The only minor critique I can offer is that the synchronisation of the swans, while nearly flawless, occasionally faltered by a hair. Though it did not detract from the performance’s overall quality, such precision is crucial in a ballet of this calibre.
The second act was shorter yet more emotionally intense, culminating in the Prince’s tragic breakdown after electroshock therapy fails to erase his visions of the Swan. The closing moments, which mirror the opening, leave us with a sense of cyclical inevitability—of freedom desired but forever out of reach. This tragic ending diverges from the original ballet’s resolution, where love triumphs even in death. Instead, Bourne’s finale underscores the crushing weight of repression, leaving the audience both devastated and awestruck.
The performance received a thunderous standing ovation, with applause that seemed endless. Many in the audience were visibly moved, tears streaming down their faces—an unquestionable testament to the production’s emotional power.
Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake – The Next Generation is nothing less than a masterpiece. It captures the timelessness of Tchaikovsky’s score while breathing new life into the art form. This production is not merely a performance; it is an experience—a reminder of why we go to the theatre. Five stars, without hesitation.
Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake – The Next Generation runs at The Lowry (Lyric Theatre) until November 30th 2024 and tours the UK until July 7th 2025.
Photo: Johan Persson


