Wilde Child

It’s fair to say that dance is not known for controversy. Despite a number of incredibly innovative productions from Matthew Bourne and his company New Adventures over the last few years, the genre is all-to-often misconstrued by the general public as genteel, prissy even. All this is set to change, irrevocably perhaps, with their latest project: a new adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s scandalous novel The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Rumours have abounded for months about the precise details of concept and staging, and excitement – if not success – is guaranteed when the show makes its hotly anticipated premiere towards the end of August. Bourne’s radical retelling through modern movement will bring the 1890 story right up-to-date, translating late-Victorian decadence to the hedonistic noughties, where success is measured by celebrity status, and pop culture saturated with sex ‘n’ drugs. Sleeping Beauty this ain’t.

Physical perfection is something of a sine qua non when it comes to Dorian Gray, and Richard Winsor, the young dancer playing the lead role, gets pretty close to that: not only is he fighting fit but he is also blessed with boy-band looks. We meet in the drab surroundings of a south London studio after a gruelling rehearsal session but he looks immaculate – an artful arrangement of ripped jeans, designer stubble and fluffy blond hair – and settles down to chat with energy and enthusiasm about the production.

Winsor has become a muse, of sorts, for Bourne in recent years, and has known about his plans to do something “Hitchcocky, something that’s very dark and very sexual” for a while now. They have worked together, and often with the same creative team, on various projects including the National Theatre hit, Play Without Words, the Bizet spin-off The Car Man and, perhaps most notably, a dance adaptation of Tim Burton’s Edward Scissorhands.

Needless to say, Winsor is full of admiration for Bourne, both as a generous collaborator and a creative genius: “Matt really does give the performer a licence to create,” he explains, “he’s such a strong storyteller, there’s always a beginning, middle and end, and the scene changes are driven by the story, as in film or theatre. I think that’s what first attracted me to the company – I’d been training in ballet but it never felt deep enough, because I was never all that fussed about the pure aesthetics of it, but with Matt everything is given a meaning.”

Growing up in Nottinghamshire, Winsor had always enjoyed performing at school but his time was taken up with competitive rugby (both county and Midlands) until he auditioned for ballet school on a whim and found his true calling. Despite some obvious parallels he insists it was no Billy Elliot sob-story, there might have been a few jibes but his rugby mates were generally supportive and respectful. “I think there’s less of a stigma attached to dance now, people realise it can be a masculine art… I’m a very physical mover and I think sport can help you with that.”

Wilde’s broadly Faustian narrative tells how the beautiful young Dorian is seduced into a libertine lifestyle and whilst his physical appearance remains unblemished by his antics, a secreted portrait becomes increasingly disfigured. Dorian is a fashion model in this production, Winsor explains, and the picture is a billboard advert for a fragrance called Immortal. “During the second half you see the poster again and it’s become torn and weathered, but we’re also showing the debauched nature of his soul through his apartment, which starts off lovely and pristine and gets increasingly cluttered with odd pictures and figurines.”

Another twist is provided with a neat sex change, whereby the aristo-aesthete Lord Henry Wotton becomes a frightening female fashionista named Lady H (could that be Hervey?) and Dorian’s love interest Sibyl Vane becomes Cyril Vane, a handsome male ballet dancer. Not only is this intended to correct Wilde’s rather misogynistic treatment of women, who appear weak and one-dimensional in the book, Winsor says, but also to expose and explore the gay subtext of the novel.

It’s tempting, in this respect, to make comparisons with Will Self’s Dorian: An Imitation, which set Wilde’s story against an eighties backdrop of homosexual freedom and excessive drug-taking, and charted Dorian’s decline against the ravages of AIDS. “In the second half we’re really taking it that way, it gets very mixed up, everyone’s going to be taking drugs and all over each other.” The New Adventures website already warns of ‘adult themes’ and advises against young audiences. “Yes, it says not for 14 and under but I don’t know,” he laughs, “some things we’ve done are quite risky, they certainly push the boundaries a little bit!”

Bourne himself has noted Alan Hollinghurst’s novel The Line of Beauty and the BBC drama Party Animals as an important references, and Winsor talks about the inspiration he’s found in films such as the glam-rock thriller Velvet Goldmine and, more specifically, the character of Patrick Bateman in American Psycho: “[Bateman’s] very narcissistic and has a strange craving for violence, but he’s almost unaware of what he’s doing, he just goes through with it.” One of the main challenges of the role, he explains, is to make Dorian watchable, and likeable to an extent.

In strangely self-referential gesture the production not only stars Winsor as its lead but also as its poster-boy in a series of Mapplethorpesque publicity shots. Their seductive appeal (literally – a couple are done in the buff) seems like a classic case of life imitating art, especially given the fact that Winsor has previously modelled for Alexander McQueen, but he suggests that it’s all part of the intentional irony of the piece; the audience will be forced to contemplate their own image and that of society as a whole. So it’s going to be deliberately moralistic? I ask. “Oh I think it’s got to be. You see someone who’s so in love with themselves and then who takes such a downfall, you’re going to sit back and think ‘what’s the point?’”

After Edinburgh the show moves to Sadler’s Wells and Winsor has high hopes of securing a subsequent tour. Modelling days over, he sees himself working on one or two revivals in the near future and, having played Frankenstein in a new adaptation from Lisa Evans earlier this year, is itching for the chance to do more straight theatre. Winsor may be talented, fresh-faced and fashionable but there’s clearly a diligence and thoughtfulness behind that glittering façade: his progress, I’m certain, will not be that of the rake.