text by Lara Monro

“The book is not form that you see but emotion that you feel”

— Virginia Woolf 

Born in Stockport in 1970, Wayne McGregor CBE completed his dance studies at Breton Hall College at the University of Leeds and the Jose Limon School in New York. His signature experimental style is defined by accelerated speeds and sharply articulated detail paired with an intellectual quality that explores the theatrical possibilities of technology and science. In 1992, he established the dance company Random Dance and was also appointed choreographer in residence at The Place. Over the last decade he has created works for Paris Opera House, New York City Ballet and Teatro Alla Scarla, to name a few.

McGregor’s appointment as The Royal Ballet’s Resident Choreographer in 2006 was considered a radical break from tradition given that his reputation was strongly rooted in contemporary dance. His masterpiece, Woolf Works, is exemplary of his ability to transcend the confines of what ballet should or shouldn’t be. At its premiere in 2015, it was met with outstanding critical acclaim, winning McGregor the Critics’ Circle Award for Best Classical Choreography and the Olivier Award for Best New Dance Production. 

This March, the Royal Opera House are bringing back the three act performance, which presents a physical manifestation of Virginia Woolf’s complex literary pieces; Mrs. Dalloway, Orlando, and The Waves. It is a Gesamtkunstwerk of movement, sound, design and light that are indissolubly linked. Max Richter's score takes us on a transcendental journey, delving into the three distinct universes of Woolf’s works while Lucy Carter’s lighting design and Morizt Jung’s costumes seamlessly complement and translate her rich inner narratives. All the while, McGregor’s choreography carries the musical fingerprint and enforces the fully authentic voice of the author. 

Act one delves into Woolf’s famous novel, Mrs. Dalloway, which details a day in the life of the fictional upper-class woman, Clarissa Dalloway. Alessandra Ferri, the 59-year-old Royal Ballet principal, embodies both Woolf and Clarissa while the multi-layered, elusive web of music, I now, I then, begins with a recording of Woolf from 1937 reading her essay “On Craftmanship” before it develops into disparate and melodic strands. Movement and sound offer a stream of consciousness into the past choices and present realities of the book's three main characters: Septimus, Peter, and Sally. This includes a powerful representation of Septimus’s shellshock as a WWI veteran through contorted bodies and jarring movement. 

In act two, classical and contemporary styles clash and collide; bodies shape-shift, becoming one before they break apart. Fractured and flowing they represent the transformative qualities of Orlando; a journey into the main protagonist’s transformation from man to woman, and their ability to time travel over centuries. The stage becomes a sci-fi playground as the universe and dancers continually evolve. Adorned in golden Elizabethan ruffs and androgynous garments, laser beams capture the dancers’ pointe shoes like comets streaking through the air. The musical score, Becomings, mixes the classical with contemporary as Richter meshes La Folia from the 17th century with electronic, analogue modular synthesis, sequencing and digital processing. 

In act three, we move away from the intense and high energy performance of Orlando into the most consciously poetic of Woolf’s works, The Waves. Regarded as her most experimental piece, the novel follows its six narrators from childhood through adulthood with a strong focus on the individual consciousness. Pounding waves occupy a large screen while Gillian Anderson’s voice introduces the act by reading Woolf’s last note to her husband before taking her life in 1941. The poignancy and emotional depths of the final scene are complemented by Richter’s score, Tuesday. The melodic contours build over twenty minutes with a beautifully haunting solo soprano carrying the dancers until they gradually evaporate into darkness. Fassi is left alone. Like a gentle wave meeting the shore, she folds out motionless onto the stage; a subtle yet profound symbol of Woolf’s tragic end and that of the performance. 

Woolf’s words dissolve in McGregor’s gesuntkunstwerk yet still manage to possess their literary wonder. Thanks to the collaborative mastery; the dancers’ unfathomable skill and dramatic performances, the music, lighting, and design — we are able to comprehend the beautifully complex world of Woolf and her works.   

Woolf Works is playing at the Royal Opera House until March 23. Click here to reserve tickets