If you want stunning visuals in your show then make sure Daniel Kramer directs it. If you want the visuals to make sense, and are not sure dildos are relevant to your story, then perhaps steer clear. Kramer is both the best and worst choice to direct an adaptation Mussorgsky’s ‘Pictures From an Exhibition’, the ten piece piano suite invoking an eclectic range of paintings by Mussorgsky’s friend Hartmann.

The composition is a musical smorgasbord, with each distinct movement delighting in the idiosyncrasies of Hartmann’s images. But rather than painting the pictures contained within Mussorgsky’s music, Kramer has created a new painting, weaving in the composer’s life-story alongside extracts from his work. The result is a semi-biographical visual extravaganza that, as bold and striking as it might be, leaves us with a much stronger image of Kramer the director than Mussorgsky the man and his music.

Although the production dances around Mussorgsky’s repressed homosexuality, these biographical strands actually push the director forward and the composer back into the shadows. Yes, Mussorgsky (played by a sternly dramatic Edward Hogg) dedicated this composition to a man, but what exactly does the flashing of male arses and waving of huge dildos tell us of the composer’s life in 19th century Russia? Kramer’s desire to shock is in danger of coming full circle – of transforming the spontaneous into the predictable and seriously muting the impact of his work.

It is frustrating because the first five minutes are brilliant. The empty stage flashes into life and with each surge in Mussorgsky’s music, an impossibly huge, looming door is illuminated on-stage. As the pace picks up, Edward Hogg hurtles hopelessly across the empty space, each and every door slamming in his face with a thumping crash. In a matter of minutes Kramer creates a world on-stage where anything can happen and imagination roams free. Unfortunately he lets it roam too far and whilst some vignettes are so good you want to package them up and take them home for keeps, others are incredibly indulgent and feel downright ridiculous.

There also isn’t much room for the dancers to shine, which is odd for a show co-produced with Sadler’s Wells. Most of the time it seems the dancers are simply swaying to the music – bloody great swaying to be sure, but the chaos of ideas jostling for attention, makes it near impossible to connect with the dance and its meaning. The dancers’ task is made harder still by the costumes, which are striking and silly in equal measure. The trickiest task fell to the bear-clad dancers, who not only had to deal with pantomime costumes but also made their entrances from a vending machine on-stage.

Points to Kramer for the sheer audacity of his approach. He has certainly got guts, but he needs something more solid than Mussorgsky’s musical sketches, on which to hang his imagination. He’s going back to opera next, which could prove fruitful. Let’s hope the operas can look after themselves and that they are strong enough to sustain rather than submit to Kramer’s imagination. 

Till 23 May 2009