Swans are no stranger to the ballet stage, but a wild duck is something of an anomaly. However, following on from the success of Norwegian National Ballet’s productions of Ghosts and Hedda Gabler, Ibsen’s The Wild Duck seemed inevitable. The dancers, in collaboration with Marit Moum Aune, have again worked their magic. Aune, one of Norway’s top theatre directors, knows her Ibsen, the dancers know their craft and in the studio the drama came to life in movement.
The soundscape is again provided by composer and trumpeter, Nils Petter Molvær. He provides music to suggest and carry the narrative. At tensions rise he appears on stage with his trumpet as the magma threatens to explode through the thin crust of urban respectability.
The work opens quietly on designer, Even Børsum’s bleak Norwegian landscape of granite rocks, piles of fallen trees and a flock of huge black birds, matching the cold-hearted quest for truth that dominates the play. A hunter appears and the solitary wild duck is shot. She dives down and attempts to swim with her damaged wing but is taken, none too kindly, by the hunter then carried off by black coated men.
The Duck, which on the drama stage would be simply a stuffed bird now finds emotionally charged expression in dance. Grete Sofie Borud Nybakken, beguiling in her strangeness, brings the wounded bird to life. Her penetrating gaze is wary and cautious. She hisses and resists before accepting the tenderness of Hedvig’s embrace. Wary of all and accepting of few, she is most in harmony with the young girl, allowing their bodies to meld in fluid harmony in some of the most poignant moments. Julie Petanova plays the daughter with wide eyes and searing honesty, the repeated gesture of covering one eye with her hand indicating her impending blindness.
The two younger men Hjalmar Ekdal, played by Silas Henriksen and Gregers Werle, played by Vasilii Tkachenko, so damaged yet so different, give sterling performances. Gregers is an unlovely character, but Tkachenko, has the technique to display his anger against society in virtuosic dance. His icy fanaticism, insisting that full disclosure of past relationships will ensure happiness has the opposite result. He brings disaster to the Ekdal household that had retained harmony mainly due to Gina (Anaïs Touret), the true peacemaker, placid and observant.
Hjalmar, egotistical and weak, is present at the birth of Hedvig (a clever piece of choreography), and a strong bond grows between them but his behaviour changes dramatically when Gregers tells him the truth of her conception. He sees the sin as Gina’s alone and responds in a display of uncontrolled fury at what has been inflicted upon him. Henriksen, so suited to high-energy roles excels, bringing chaos to the stable household and driving the totally innocent Hedvig into a suicidal spiral. Petanova’s character, warm and open, is easy to love. Her response to her father’s egotistical behaviour has aways been to love in spite of his moods and to see her lifeless body lying on stage shows the extent of human folly in graphic form.
Each character in Ibsen’s play has flaws with the women generally dealing better with what life throws their way. Mrs Sørby, (Gina Storm-Jensen), plays the glamorous hostess, enjoying playing blind-man’s bluff (an ironic choice) and accepting the comforts of life with Old Werle, while Gina, raped when in service to Werle, accepts marriage to Hjalmar, who in turn has accepted financial help from Werle to set up his business and believes Hedvig, the child born so soon after their marriage, to be his own.
Old Werle is corrupt and amoral but has family loyalty. Ole Willy Falkhaugen captures the character absolutely. A quiet malevolent presence, his taut frame exudes authority and the power to wield it. However, while he can violate Gina, seduce Mrs Sørby into marriage and make Hjalmar dependent, he cannot bring his son to love him. Gregers, whose ethics are quite different, rejects his father utterly.
It’s a brutal tale. Old Ekdal, living with his dreams in the attic, is one of the few benign characters but Aarne Kristian Ruutu in the role gets only a small time on stage. Many of Ibsen’s plays are a search for the truth but here he reveals the destructiveness of Gregers well-intentioned designs and the mortal tragedy that unfolds. The play was premiered nearly a century and a half ago but mendacity and corruption, deception and betrayal remain eternal.
Maggie’s trip was funded by Norwegian National Opera and Ballet
