Review: Gentleman Jack - Northern Ballet
- 23 hours ago
- 2 min read
Review by Hannah Smith
As a fan of the BBC TV series, I wasn’t sure what to expect from Northern Ballet’s production of Gentleman Jack. To my mind, the story of Anne Lister isn’t the most obvious candidate for translation to the world of ballet. Anne Lister’s legacy is of a strong-willed woman, a landowner, diarist and traveller. Hailed as the ‘first modern lesbian’, Anne Lister lived an extraordinary life in an era that expected women to stay firmly within society’s limits.
So, I was apprehensive to see how her character would be portrayed within a medium so often associated with delicacy and refinement, somewhat at odds with her uncompromising legacy.
I needn’t have worried.
From the moment the curtain rose, there’s no mistaking Lister’s (Nida Aydinoğlu) unapologetic swagger and presence, including the iconic hat tip, a subtle but instantly recognizable nod to Suranne Jones’ TV portrayal, eagerly lapped up by the myriads of Gentleman Jack fans in the audience.
The contrast between Anne Lister’s masculine, commanding energy and the softer, more traditionally feminine style of her two love interests was particularly clever. Choreographer Annabelle Lopez Ochoa’s decision to choreograph Lister almost entirely off pointe was striking.
The staging was minimal, relying on a few well-used props, particularly the use of three tall cabinets, moved on effortlessly by the ensemble. As bookshelves they define the interior spaces; flipped, they turn into screens that move the action outdoors. Paired with the walking pad, they proved especially effective in highlighting Lister’s unmistakable stride through the world.
Peter Salem’s score set the tone well, blending folk and brass which nicely enhances the industrial element of Yorkshire’s mining landscape during the scenes set in Shibden.
The love scene between Lister and her wife Ann Walker was beautifully fluid, tender and at times cheeky, but for me slightly missed the mark in comparison to the sensuality and chemistry in the previous love scene with Mariana Lawton.
My highlight had to be the ingenious use of the ensemble dancers as a “chorus of words”: a lithe, physical manifestation of Anne’s diary entries, deftly translating the emotion of her writing into movement - diaries without which we might never have understood her extraordinary story in such depth.





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