Phaedra/Minotaur music/dance review: Stripped-back cantata and choreography
Pared-down productions for a double bill of Greek stories take a slight edge off the intense drama

Linked by stories from Greek mythology, this double bill pairs together opera and dance. But despite enmeshing a trio of genres associated with gigantic drama, it’s a spare and understated production; more sonata than symphony. At times the simplicity works to create moments of exquisite grace; at others it seems to present obstacles to the storytelling.

Benjamin Britten’s short cantata, Phaedra, written for mezzo-soprano and piano, (Christine Rice and Richard Hetherington respectively) homes in on the moment Phaedra fatally falls for her husband’s son, Hippolytus, after catching his eye on her wedding day. Britten’s score oscillates between impressionistic sweeps up and down the scale, and punctuated passages of atonal melody, and while Rice’s voice is full of passion and clarity, director Deborah Warner’s casual-costumed, spartan vision gives us little other than Rice’s voice to carry the story, through music that is often erratic and oblique.
There’s a similar pared-down feeling to Kim Brandstrup’s Minotaur (which tells of Ariadne’s betrayal by Theseus after saving him from the bull-headed Minotaur), danced by Tommy Franzen, Jonathan Goddard and Isabel Lubach. But here the minimalism seems to cohere better. Perhaps it’s the palette of red, black and neutrals, or the way the structure is divided into various chapters of Battle, Seduction and Lament.

The set is startlingly original, a slash of red on a black climbing wall, while the choreography, even in its most passionate moments, is exquisitely graceful. In Seduction, Lubach as Ariadne and Goddard as Theseus perform a circling, fluid courtship dance, full of push-pull momentum as she swirls and flings against him. This is echoed later in the final episode, when Franzen (who earlier plays the Minotaur but is now Bacchus), climbs down the wall to comfort Ariadne in her abandonment. Their partnering echoes the earlier seduction duet, but with more heart and curiosity. Lubach leans gently onto Franzen’s one foot; he bends his leg to receive her, rather than holding firm against her clutches. In the final, painfully beautiful moment she seems for a second to have found her wings and takes flight.
Phaedra/Minotaur, Lyceum Theatre, 19 August, 3pm, 8.30pm, 20 August, 3pm.