We took our seats in the beautiful Sadler’s Wells theatre on Rosebery Avenue, London, where the words BLACK SABBATH BALLET were projected in purple light onto the rippling curtains, like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. From the moment the house lights dimmed and the opening chords of War Pigs thundered through the cavernous auditorium, it was clear this was not going to be a polite evening of pirouettes and pointes. Black Sabbath – The Ballet took the stage by storm, a fusion of raw Brummie grit and refined physical artistry that turned the theatre into something halfway between a rock concert and a religious rite.
The sets throughout were minimal, but all the more effective for being thus. Black, like Sabbath, with suspended circles containing icons depicting key moments from the band’s history. This history unfolded through sound and movement – initially creating the atmosphere of the factory in which the members worked – then making great use of the guys’ own words accompanying the music and dance as we were taken through the band’s rise, fall and rise again.
The dancers matched the sets, clothed in simple black leotards,with only their arms exposed. Flesh catching the spotlights amid the inky black of their surroundings. This contrast was used to great effect as we focused on the movements of the dancers’ arms. To pull this off well required the dancers to be perfectly synchronised and the single disappointment of the evening was that this wasn’t always the case. Arm movements were often not replicated to the same degree and sometimes were a second late. When the contrast is as stark as the set made it, this split second mattered. However, this is no criticism of the individual dancers, all of whom expressed stunning talent that became especially apparent as individuals performed solo. The audience expressed much deserved appreciation, with whooping and hollering accompanied by thunderous applause.
This was mostly about the music, of course. From my vantage point in the Front Circle, that music thundered like a living force – the live orchestra entwined with Sabbath’s heavy – and occasionally soulful – guitar riffs played by Marc Hayward, the on-stage guitarist, who embodied every heavy metal guitarist we’ve ever known. Marc ran around the stage in true Rock God fashion. Every beat of Iron Man and Paranoid pulsed through the dancers’ bodies, their movements amplifying the music’s heavy rhythm. This unlikely marriage – classical ballet meets heavy metal – is nothing short of visionary. It shouldn’t work but it does.
The choreography oscillated between the hypnotic and the explosive: muscular solos drenched in spotlight; tight, ensemble sections where male dancers stamped like warriors to Children of the Grave; and delicate, haunting duets that unfolded during quieter moments such as Solitude, which saw two dancers locked in a kiss for their entire pas de deux in Act I. It was breathtaking in its beauty and tenderness.
Visually, this was gothic theatre at its finest. Smoke drifted across the stage, lights flickered like stained glass under lightning, and the black-and-purple palette nodded perfectly to Sabbath’s dark mystique.
Two rows behind us sat the legend that is Sir Brian May with his beloved wife, Anita, and fellow legend, and Black Sabbath guitarist, Tony Iomi. When Mr Iomi didn’t retake his seat for the third and final act, we smelt a rather fragrant rat. As suspected, right at the end, the company of dancers parted and the iconic Sabbath guitarist swept downstage, guitar-handed, joining Marc Hayward in playing his own music. Naturally, the crowd erupted.
If ballet is often accused of being inaccessible, and heavy metal of being brutal, Black Sabbath – The Ballet proved both wrong. It found the poetry in power and the elegance in noise. From the Front Circle, it was a revelation — thunderous, soulful, and utterly unforgettable.
I can’t promise you Sir Brian May and Tony Iomi every night, I’m sure we just lucked out, but the show itself will be worth your time. Prepare to leave exhilarated with the ear worm that is Paranoid reverberating around your Sabbath-Blackened skull.
