Wayne McGregor’s Alchemies at Royal Opera House blends innovation and emotional depth in ballet evolution

Wayne McGregor’s triple bill “Alchemies” at the Royal Opera House reveals a choreographer whose two-decade tenure has reshaped ballet’s language but still divides critics on whether his work achieves emotional depth or remains trapped in aesthetic refinement.

The program, running through May 6, combines two existing works with the world premiere of “Quantum Souls,” offering a snapshot of McGregor’s evolution from controversial contemporary interloper to established force within the institution. His appointment two decades ago drew skepticism from traditionalists, yet his influence has expanded the company’s vocabulary, pushing dancers toward greater versatility and blurring lines between ballet and contemporary dance.

In “Untitled, 2023,” the evening opens with a stark visual language drawn from Cuban abstract minimalist Carmen Herrera: a single green triangle slicing a white backdrop, mirrored in the dancers’ sharp, bifurcated costumes and precise, thrusting movement. Set to a score by Icelandic composer Anna Thorvaldsdottir that shifts from claustrophobic textures to sudden majesty, the piece evokes Merce Cunningham in its spatial clarity while introducing a feline fluidity, culminating in a expressive solo by Calvin Richardson.

The second work, “Yugen” (2018), stands as the emotional core of the bill. Set to Leonard Bernstein’s “Chichester Psalms,” its music blends religious reverence with jazzy lilt, prompting McGregor to create dance that “breathes like a singer.” Edmund de Waal’s set design — towering, cathedral-like frames without religious iconography — supports a softer, more expansive quality in the choreography, evoking the grounded rhythm and sweeping arms of West Side Story. Dancers like Melissa Hamilton and Joseph Sissens thrive here, their technical precision married to lyrical expressiveness.

The premiere of “Quantum Souls” shifts tone dramatically. After a 40-minute interval, the stage floods with lurid lime green light as dancers in Saul Nash’s high-fashion-inspired costumes — shifting from acid green to shadowy darks — move in jittering, hyper-articulated patterns resembling an insect swarm. The improvised score by Bushra El-Turk ensures no two performances are identical, yet the ensemble maintains uncanny cohesion. Critics describe the work as having a sinister undercurrent, with movements suggesting escape or possession, though some uncover its dreamlike quality underdeveloped.

Choreographic lineage McGregor’s work continues to reflect Merce Cunningham’s influence in its decentralized structure, where dancers function as semi-independent soloists rather than a unified corps, rejecting hierarchical ballet traditions in favor of a more egalitarian stage sociology.

Across the trilogy, McGregor’s commitment to gender fluidity remains consistent: same-sex and opposite-sex partnering coexist without hierarchy and pointe work appears intermittently rather than as a defining trait for female dancers. His movement vocabulary has absorbed balletic elements — explosive jumps, beaten legs — while shedding the aggressive, head-butting qualities of his earlier work, reflecting a synthesis shaped by two decades of collaboration with classically trained dancers.

Yet critical responses diverge sharply on the trilogy’s substance. While The Guardian highlights the warmth and humanity in McGregor’s latest output — a contrast to his earlier, more cerebral, AI-influenced experiments — London Theatre argues the evening feels “overly composed” and “mannered,” prioritizing surface beauty over intellectual resonance. Slipped Disc’s critic echoes this, suggesting “Yugen,” despite its loveliness, leans into “blandly sociological-liberal correctness” rather than genuine spiritual or emotional risk.

These tensions reflect a broader debate about McGregor’s legacy: whether his strength lies in synthesizing disparate influences into a coherent, evolving language, or whether his work risks becoming a polished exercise in abstraction that sacrifices depth for visual and technical brilliance. The answer may lie not in resolving the contradiction, but in recognizing that both truths coexist in his twenty-year trajectory — a choreographer who has undeniably expanded ballet’s expressive range, even as questions linger about the emotional weight of his most ambitious works.

How has McGregor’s relationship with the Royal Ballet evolved over his twenty-year tenure?

Initially controversial due to his contemporary dance background, McGregor has gradually transformed the company’s artistic language, encouraging versatility and integrating contemporary movement principles while being shaped in turn by the dancers’ technical strength and expressive nuance.

From Instagram — related to Yugen, Quantum Souls

What distinguishes “Yugen” from the other works in the “Alchemies” triple bill?

“Yugen” is noted for its emotional accessibility, combining Bernstein’s lyrical score with fluid, Broadway-inflected choreography and a set design evoking architectural grandeur without religious specificity, making it the most immediately resonant piece in the program.

Why do some critics argue that “Alchemies” prioritizes style over substance?

Despite acknowledging the visual and technical brilliance of the works, critics contend that the choreography can feel overly composed or mannered, with movements that are hypnotic but lack deeper intellectual or emotional engagement, particularly in the abstract framing of “Untitled” and the dreamlike ambiguity of “Quantum Souls.”

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