The Times
By Donald Hutera
Dancing in skates is no less specialised a skill than dancing on pointe. Both require high degrees of expressivity, rhythm, stamina and co-ordination. Yet anyone who attends The Sleeping Beauty on Ice, the UK debut of a company of mostly Russian championship skaters dubbed the Imperial Ice Stars, expecting a frigid-floored version of 19th-century ballet could miss a bigger point and a different set of pleasures.
Yes, the plot of the director Tony Mercer's icy extravaganza is the same as that of the ballet, even if shorn of its emotional and metaphorical suggestions. Mercer and the chief choreographer, Tatiana Tarasova, also use Tchaikovsky's score, albeit in a pre-recorded, cut-and-paste version. Mercer's Beauty, however, is not Petipa's. It is instead a commercial vehicle for the display of ice dancing.
After finishing a run at Cardiffs new Wales Millennium Centre, it tours throught mid May to a dozen other UK venues, including Sadler's Wells. The Ice Stars are a cohesive and dazzlingly assured troupe, clearly incredibly disciplined but with an underlying competitive streak that leads a hungry edge to their gifts. Working within the strictures of the proscenium arch, they perform with at times almost lethal speed. Tarasova's fast-moving musical choreography features ensemble dancing of pleasing symmetry and invention.
The show is headlined by the Olympic bronze medalist Mandy Woetzel, a compact, German-born blonde cast as Pricess Aurora. Vadim Yarkov's Prince (Pictured, with Woetzel) appears extra tall beside her. They are excellent technicians and polished lyrical partners, although perhaps lacking in romantic chemistry.
The evening's real stars are three featured players. The most daring is the amazing young Anton Klykov, as the royal amanuensis Catalabutte. He cartwheels, back-flips, cross-steps and whizzes round the stage on the tops of his blades.
Maria Borovikova is no less spectacular as Carabosse, play-acting with vicious, teeth-gnashing glee. Her flexibility is such that she must have a rubber skeleton. She is in good, sharp contrast to Olga Sharoutenko's Lilac Fairy, a figure of regal and restorative calm.
There are dramatic gaps. The major fight scene doesn't carry much weight, while the awakening kiss hardly registers. We are likewise denied in the magic of seeing the kingdom fall into and later stir from protective slumber. But if blood-stirring, bravura skaking is what you're after, look no further.
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