The swan takeoff - what a pilot

Click on the image for the video

I was walking alongside the Grand Canal in Dublin towards the LUAS tram line bridge at the Charlemont stop, which is also close to the Sixth Lock canal gate on the other side, and I stopped to watch a swan swimming strongly towards me. Hello, I said, this bird is going somewhere. Her speed through the water made a prow wave either side of the swan’s breast and a wash behind. There was a real sense of purpose here.

Then the swan turned in. To feed, I thought. No, it went slightly into reverse, legs maneuvering underwater, and I realized that it was making a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, to face in the direction I was walking. Then, without any further ado, it started to take off. I was right beside it. Wings flapping so that the tips actually beat the surface of the water, it rose slightly. Then the webbed feet gave additional forward thrust by seeming to run along the surface of the water. Slowly, it rose, but was also heading for the LUAS tramway bridge.

It got gradually higher, wings working away, but swans are not pigeons – because of their weight they’re ponderous in the air. In fact, I believe they are the largest bird that can still fly. The ostrich and some penguins are bigger but they’re water or earth bound. Now it was rapidly approaching the bridge and for a second it looked like it might collide with it - and that was even before it had gained enough height to clear the overhead cables that power the tram. But then there was a last, powerful surge from the wings and it was high enough to be above everything in its way. A few seconds later I saw it landing on the other side of the canal lock.

It was a magnificent spectacle. But for me the wonderful part was the obvious confidence the swan had in the distance from the bridge it knew it had to allow so that it could get over it. It seemed to know exactly where to turn after swimming away from the bridge in order to create an adequate runway for itself. Does it make that judgment every time, or has it, through trial and error in the past, established a landmark on the bank? I think the latter, because when I saw it swimming it never once looked behind – it just stopped at a certain point and turned.

I have been able to find videos of swans taking off and there is a link to one above. For me this is one of the many wonders of nature, but most times they have lots of space in which to get airborne. The takeoff I saw was special.

Swan Lake at Dublin's Grand Canal Theatre

When the Russian State Ballet danced Swan Lake at Dublin’s Grand Canal Theatre on St. Patrick’s evening this year its members provided a truly wonderful experience for about 2000 people. This marked the first anniversary of the opening of the new theatre.

Everything about this production was superlative. There are not words good enough to express the brilliance of the performance. Of course one has to, firstly, acknowledge the genius of Tchaikovsky for creating such a masterpiece, but the perfection and excellence of the performers on this occasion is also something that should be experienced at least once in a lifetime.

In the aftermath of the live performance we’re now coming to terms, thanks to youtube.com, with the individual sections of this great work. To see the swan dancers advancing in perfect harmony with short steps and arms half raised to invoke the familiar wing pose of these majestic birds, which I’m told is known as busking, to Tchaikovsky’s swelling score, provided on this occasion by the RTE National Symphony Orchestra, is wonderful. There are many memorable pas de deux, pas de trios and then the delightful, fantastic pas de quatre from the four small swans, an exercise in synchronisation that has to be seen to be believed and, of course, the extraordinary fouetté turns of Odile in act two (not the Black Swan, Odette, as the dancer was represented to be in the movie of the same name and which was apparently a piece of artistic licence on the part of the filmmakers). The jester stood out, both as a dancer and as an all-round link man between the various movements in the plot.

The Grand Canal Theatre is also impressive. I’m told it has capacity for around 2000 people, and there was a full house on St. Patrick’s night. It’s bright and airy and there are bars on each floor, although €8.30(!) for a vodka and tonic means that the promoters are certainly determined to keep out the riff-raff. Indeed between the seat cost, €10.00 to park the car and the cost of refreshments as noted, we’re definitely not looking at culture-for-the-masses here.

The seating layout is such that each row is curved, with the stage roughly providing a centre for the circle segment so described. This has the beneficial side effect that the individual seats are offset slightly so that any given member of the audience is looking over the shoulders of the people in front, but not perfectly in the case of the Grand Canal Theatre, as the offset does not place the rear seats exactly in the middle of the two seats in front. In a number of theatres in European cities that we’ve been in each seat is placed precisely at the join of the two seats in front. This is important when a short person finds him or herself seated behind one or more tall individuals.

You are now looking at a ballet buff in the person of yours truly.