Although hugely popular amongst children in Italy too—perhaps even more in the countless adaptations, starting with the Walt Disney’s cartoon version—a connection to his own childhood must have inspired Wheeldon, who for his ballet has gathered the sweetest memories, represented by that Victorian cardboard theatre—lost but never forgotten—with which he played as a child, reproduced in the sets by Bob Crawley (who also designed the costumes). The sets and the video projections are inevitably reminiscent of 15 years ago, yet still striking and, thankfully, not overly high-tech. For the rest, the show is still characterized by the ‘theatrical tricks’ of yesteryear, such as “black theatre,” puppets and en travesti. The English choreographer’s taste for entertainment shines everywhere—British yet also American given his dual career, as a lover of music hall between London and New York.  

His ballet’s foundation is a fluid, richly detailed libretto written by Nicholas Wright, who adds to the story a romantic subplot between Alice and Jack the gardener/Jack of Hearts: an opportunity to showcase an English-style pas de deux in adagio tempo. As for the choreography, Wheeldon displays his refined balletic culture: as a lover of the Imperial ballet à la Petipa and a follower of his English masters, Frederick Ashton above all, but also Kenneth MacMillan. A delight for ballet connoisseurs are the quotes, Petipa’s the most recognizable: Alice’s departure for Wonderland with her mentor White Rabbit/Carroll on a paper boat sailing through the backdrop is a reminiscence of the Prince in “Sleeping Beauty” travelling with the Lilac Fairy on the golden bark (then immobile whilst the ‘panorama’ moved) to awaken Aurora. Taken from “The Sleeping Beauty,” almost identical in choreography, is the Rose Adagio, danced not by Aurora but, humorously, by the Queen of Hearts, with a tartlet in place of the flower.