The Sleeping Beauty at Royal Albert Hall

The Sleeping Beauty is a classic tale of fairies, curses, and true love’s kiss. The King and Queen are throwing a party for their daughter Aurora’s christening and have invited the neighbourhood fairies to bless her with magical gifts such as beauty, joy, and generosity. Just as the Lilac Fairy (played by Sangeun Lee, who effortlessly embodies a soft, kind strength) is about to bestow her gift, the sky turns black, lightning strikes, and sinister music fills the Royal Albert Hall. The King and Queen forgot to invite the dark fairy Carabosse to the christening, and now her feelings are hurt. In revenge, she curses the baby to prick her finger and die when she grows up. Unable to completely reverse the curse, the Lilac Fairy softens it so that Aurora will prick her finger and fall into a deep sleep until she is awakened by a prince’s kiss.

Set to a live orchestra, this version of The Sleeping Beauty stays a little too faithful to its original choreography and premise. This production is a traditional classical ballet that is graceful, elegant, and flawlessly executed, but it also lacks energy and surprise. Every step is performed with precision and polish, showcasing years of practice and discipline, but particularly in the first act, the performers appear a little tired, their movements somewhat restrained. The stage itself is sparse, save for two thrones, while an illustrated backdrop depicts the Greco-Roman columns of the palace, the changing sky, the enchanted forest, and the fairytale-like floral finale. The backdrop incorporates a smoky, cursive effect and displays elaborate visuals, although we are sometimes left looking at it for a little too long without any action.

The costumes, based on Nicholas Georgiadis’s designs for Kenneth MacMillan’s original 1980s production, are a standout feature of the performance. Beginning in the 17^th century, they are wonderfully elaborate and convincingly Jacobean, complete with breeches and heeled shoes for the men and gloriously golden petticoats and bodices for the women. As Aurora’s birthday moves the story into the reign of Charles I, the gowns become softer and looser before transitioning into 18^th-century styles for the wedding.

Every garment is magnificent, from the glittering tutus to Carabosse’s gothic interpretation of Queen Elizabeth I. Carabosse (James Streeter) looks impressively frightening and has a peculiarly affectionate relationship with her minions, who wear white masks and black breeches and bear a striking resemblance to the lackeys in Buffy the Vampire Slayer‘s episode Hush. However, the character herself feels somewhat subdued, as though her costume commands the stage more than she does. Emma Hawes brings all the energy, charisma, and flair one could hope for in Aurora, while Aitor Arrieta delivers a lively, gallivanting performance as Prince Désiré, but their relationship lacks enough buildup to feel genuinely believable.

The choreography remains loyal to former Royal Ballet principal choreographer Kenneth MacMillan’s original vision. Every pirouette is executed with seamless grace, and it is difficult to overstate just how much skill is required to make ballet look so easy. However, particularly in the third act, the sequences begin to feel repetitive, with Princess Florine and the Bluebird (Katja Khaniukova and Rentaro Nakaaki) taking turns to perform a succession of technically impeccable but familiar leaps, turns, and jumps.

The wedding scene drags somewhat, and one cannot help but wish more of the assembled guests became actively involved in the festivities. The White Cat and Puss in Boots (Georgia Bould and Rhys Antoni) provide welcome comic relief, breaking up the traditional formality with playful hip wiggles and paw-like gestures, although they feel slightly out of place among the otherwise stately proceedings. The Sleeping Beauty is a visual triumph, but it could do with a bit more novelty.