A year ago, when the Royal Opera published their calendar for this year, the piece we saw today was simply presented as “Alexander Ekman is back”. No title, no photos, no description. I guess he wasn’t as done with the piece at the time of publication as he was supposed to be.

We booked tickets nevertheless. The last piece by Alexander Ekman that we saw was “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. There was perhaps a bit too much theatre and too little dance in that one, but it was far from boring. I could think of many worse ways to spend an afternoon.

Before the start of the performance, it’s started already: in the orchestra pit, a silent, slow-motion dinner party is taking place, with guests in surreal costumes.

The performance is sprawling and contains not only group dances, solos and duets, but also a movie and a monologue. The movie explains the concept of the escapist: a man who doesn’t just dream of a more interesting, pleasant life, but truly makes himself believe that he is living that life. That he is digging his feet into sun-warmed sand on a beach when he is getting out of bed in the morning, and that he is playing with large, friendly dogs during his boring afternoon in the office.

(Side note: This whole idea of escapism as a way to escape “dead time” is presented as fun and uplifting and heartwarming. After all, sun-warmed beaches are pleasant, and so are large fluffy dogs. But I couldn’t help finding it rather sad. That his life, or our life, is so empty that it needs to be escaped so thoroughly and completely.)

The performance is energetic and entrancing. Sometimes absurd, sometimes sublime and lyrical. But above all and through it all, it’s playful, as Ekman lets his fantasy run loose. This playfulness seems to annoy some reviewers, it’s “pandering to the audience” apparently. I guess ballet is supposed to be a serious thing, for serious viewers only. (I admit, there were a few cheap gimmicks, but those were few.)

The stage design is mostly minimalist, to the point where the backstage mechanisms are visible. Except when it isn’t minimalist, and the entire scene is decorated with white furniture – beds, chairs, shelves, potted plants, a cot.

The lighting likewise was simple and harsh. The costumes, like the stage design, ranged from minimalist skin-coloured underwear – to beautiful, graphical, rich designs in black and white.

The most interesting aspects of the performance to me were those that seemed random and absurd, but also very intentional. Groups of people are dancing, in large, swelling movements – and one man is sitting alone on a chair at the very far end of the scene, flexing his legs. Or a large outline of a flamingo that stands slightly off center. None of the dancers interact with it while it rises ever so slowly until it is out of sight.

My eyes hurt because I forgot to blink for long stretches of time.

Note to self: great music by Mikael Karlsson.