Layla and Majnun, Sadler’s Wells, review: Music is the star of juicily choreographed tale

Choreographer Mark Morris brings unexpected factors to fore of this thousand-year-old tale

Mark Morris has collaborated with Silk Road Ensemble for new production of 'Layla and Majnun' (Susanna Millman)

Mark Morris, that most musical of choreographers, sometimes takes a back seat to his music. He can dig deep into its structures, finding juicy rhythms and unexpected jokes – as he does in Pepperland, which tours the UK next year. In another mood, particularly in opera stagings, he seems to step back, providing respectful decoration for the score. That’s the case with Layla and Majnun, his collaboration with Yo-Yo Ma’s splendid Silk Road Ensemble. His appealing steps are a danced frame for what is almost a concert staging.

A tale of forbidden love, Layla and Majnun has been told across the Middle East and the Indian subcontinent for more than a thousand years. In love from childhood, they are separated by disapproving parents: his obsession is seen as madness, and she is married off to another man. Still consumed with love, Majnun becomes a hermit. Their story has been a powerful theme in art, taken up by poets including Nizami Ganjavi and Muhammad Fuzuli; in the west, it inspired Eric Clapton’s song “Layla”.

This staging is based on the opera by Azerbaijani composer Uzeyir Hajibeyli, freely adapted by Alim Qasimov for the Silk Road Ensemble. The new version draws together Azerbaijani and western musical styles, led by singers Qasimov and his daughter Fargana Qasimova, whose rich voice curls around the intricate vocal lines. Painter Howard Hodgkin designed a glowing backdrop, swipes of deep colour that change tone under James F Ingalls’s lighting, with more brushstrokes of colour across the dancers’ tunics.

At first, Morris’s dances are formal, almost ceremonial. His dancers light the lamps around the musicians or form gentle groupings around the players. Layla and Majnun emerge from the ensemble, played by different dancers. Reflecting the theme of separation, Morris gives them images of yearning, hands touching at arms’ length. In a lovely sequence, one spins on the spot, while their lover crouches and curls around them, embracing the air around the beloved.

Morris creates lyrical spinning dances and graceful friezes for the ensemble, but rarely allows dancing to drive the action. There are bold, shimmying dances for the parents, shaking their shoulders in disapproval. The most dramatic scene comes with Layla’s marriage. She and her husband spin arm in arm, while Majnun seethes and rages, reaching for her hand. On the last note, he flails and falls, dropping into madness. Still, this is a show where the music is the star, a rare chance to hear a complex mix of scored and improvised song.

Until 17 November. Box office: 020 7863 8000