The Prince of the Pagodas

English composer Benjamin Britten wrote only one full-length ballet, and this is it. It is also arguably one of the very last full-length ballets written by any composer (3 acts, 2+ hours), but unlike his operas, which entered the repertoire quickly, The Prince of the Pagodas has had a patchy performance history until relatively recently, apparently because the original choreography by John Cranko was less than compelling. This version is a revival by choreographer Kenneth Macmillan and the Royal Ballet (who better to revive this thoroughly English ballet?); Macmillan scraps Cranko's choreography and original scenario for a more Freudian and sexual take on the story.

The story concerns an aging King and his two daughters, Princess Belle Epine and Princess Belle Rose. When the king divides his land unequally, giving the larger share to the younger and nicer Rose, Epine curses the court, turning the king's courtiers into monkeys, and Rose's suitor into a Salamander. This much of the story is the set-up for the remainder of the ballet, in which Rose, rejecting four wealthy suitors from the North, South, East, and West, is led by the Fool to Pagoda Land on a search for her salamander Prince.

Britten's musical depiction of Pagoda Land is the most celebrated and controversial aspect of his score. Britten, fresh from a trip to Bali, uncannily recreated the sound of the Balinese gamelan (percussion orchestra) using mostly a combination of Western orchestral percussion instruments. He uses actual Balinese gamelan tunes, and the sound is thoroughly un-Western and exotic. Britten's harsher critics have argued that this is Western musical imperialism, but even they would concede the technical achievement of this portion of the score.

Once Rose gets to Pagoda Land, she (of course) finds the Salamander and reluctantly gives him the kiss that changes him back into a Prince--but, before she arrives, she must pass through each of the 4 elements (earth, air, water, fire)--and this is where Macmillan scraps Cranko's decorative scenario, with its focus on big corps dance numbers, in favor of a more intimate approach that focuses on Rose's internal fears (which, at least in this new re-imagining, seem to be primarily rape and adultery, although depicted in highly symbolic fashion, rather than flagrantly--the kiddies won't know what's going on, but adults will).

I would love to see a production that combines great choreography with the original fairy-tale scenario, but Macmillan has single-handedly and convincingly resurrected a languishing masterpiece with this production, and shown that the music is rich enough to support a variety of interpretations. It now seems inevitable that the Prince of the Pagodas will join the repertoire with Prokofiev's now-beloved ballets. This production is superb, but if you don't care for it, rest assured that because it exists there will be more in the future.