Scottish Ballet’s Snow Queen is a bright and ambitious reimagining of Andersen’s fairy tale, directed by Christopher Hampson and set to the vivid music of Rimsky-Korsakov, arranged by Richard Honner.
So writes Alena Shmakova for theQR.co.uk…
From the outset, Lez Brotherston’s production design dazzles with costumes that bridge two worlds: the realism of the early 20th century and the magical realm of fantasy. Playful nods to other interpretations abound, with the Queen’s image recalling Frozen, the snow winds evoking the White Walkers of Game of Thrones, and the mirror scene echoing The Huntsman: Winter’s War.
Choices, Choices
Not all choices succeed equally well. The Summer Princess’s costume, though gilded, is so similar to the Snow Queen’s that it blurs the distinction between the two characters. Its muted tones fail to suggest summer’s brightness, greenery, or floral abundance, leaving the figure visually indistinct. The sharp contrast with her other portrayal, Lexi, does not succeed in uniting the two into a coherent single character.
The set design makes striking use of both traditional theatre scenery and modern projections, creating memorable moments such as the bustling urban square, the forest clearing with gypsy wagons and real fire, and the moving forest scene where the Snow Queen sparkles among icy branches. These scenes are rich and atmospheric, but the Snow Queen’s Palace feels underwhelming by comparison. After the inventive sets that precede it, the palace lacks icy brilliance and snowflake-like complexity, failing to deliver the grandeur expected at the climax.
From the outset, Lez Brotherston’s production design dazzles with costumes that bridge two worlds: the realism of the early 20th century and the magical realm of fantasy.
Take me to the Circus
The dancing is full of brilliance and emotion. The city square social dance, performed in everyday clothes and even farmers’ boots, adds realism and evokes the atmosphere of contemporary Christmas markets.
Elsewhere, the circus entertainment perfectly captures its genre with clowns, a strong man, ballerina, and acrobats – a feast for the eyes!
The Traveller dance scene is a highlight, bursting with energy and infectious rhythms that make one long to join in. Rimsky-Korsakov’s Capriccio Espagnol (Scene e canto gitano) perfectly captures the gypsy spirit, with strong male-led dances, high jumps, expressive gypsy-inspired port de bras, and even a wandering violinist on stage.
Among the more intimate pieces, the final pas de deux of Kaj and Gerda is tender and deeply moving, while scenes between the Snow Queen and Kaj are equally superb in conveying enchantment.
It’s all about the storytelling
Not all pas de deux achieve the same impact. In the engagement scene, Gerda appears shallow, more absorbed by her ring than by Kai, and the choreography, including a lift where she is carried atop his back, suggests burden rather than romance.
The somewhat negative impression of the main protagonist is reinforced in the circus scene, where she seems distracted by festivities rather than concerned for Kaj’s illness. Similarly, the opening pas de deux of the Snow Queen and Summer Princess is too brief, lacking emotional depth or chemistry to support the unfolding narrative. If the choreography sometimes falters in conveying emotional depth, the score likewise offers moments of beauty without consistently sustaining dramatic
impact.
The score, drawn from Rimsky-Korsakov and arranged by Richard Honner, provides richness without always achieving the memorability of Tchaikovsky’s ballet music. Certain passages stand out: the harp lends tender lyricism, while the glockenspiels at the Ice Palace create cathedral-like resonance and heighten the sense of grandeur. Overall, the music supports the action effectively, though moments such as
the Gypsy Dance scene might have benefited from a quicker tempo, and the mirror’s shattering from a sharper orchestral accent. The volume of the orchestra occasionally felt subdued, and the winds in the snowflake and wind dance could have carried greater force to evoke the rush of a snowstorm. The inclusion of a wandering musician on stage is a gracious gesture, yet the performance remains polished rather than spontaneous, lacking the raw confidence of a street fiddler. With
so much happening visually, the score often recedes into the background, serving the production rather than dominating it. These musical choices, while supportive, highlight a broader issue: the production’s narrative framework does not always rise to the same level as its visual and choreographic invention.
It is common today to place blame on the writers, yet in this production the storytelling feels the weakest among the ballet’s many strengths. Adapting Andersen’s complex tale into a shorter, family-friendly ballet is no easy task, and the invention of the Summer Princess answers some questions but raises others. Why is a mystical figure with significant powers reduced to a pickpocket role?
Not all pas de deux achieve the same impact. In the engagement scene, Gerda appears shallow, more absorbed by her ring than by Kai, and the choreography, including a lift where she is carried atop his back, suggests burden rather than romance.
Why does a fleeting glimpse of a man in the mirror drive her away, despite the supposed bond with her sister? These anthropomorphic portrayals of elemental forces risk oversimplifying their mythic power, leaving gaps in narrative logic.
Worth a second visit
While not without a few imperfections, The Snow Queen remains a bright, merry production that lights up Scottish winter nights with scenes to cherish. Costumes, dancing, sets, and Rimsky-Korsakov’s music combine to create a rich festive experience. Some storytelling and design choices may leave questions, but the overall energy and artistry make it a ballet well worth seeing. With so much happening visually and musically, a second viewing feels almost essential.
A note for parents: Andersen’s original story is layered and complex, and Scottish Ballet’s adaptation introduces new characters and competing narrative threads. Without some prior explanation, younger children may find the plot difficult to follow. A brief retelling of the fairy tale before attending will help them navigate the production and enjoy its magic without confusion.
Featured Image: Principals Jessica Fyfe as The Snow Queen and Bruno Micchiardi as Kai in The Snow Queen. Credit Andy Ross
Details
Show: Scottish Ballet – The Snow Queen
Venue: Festival Theatre, 13–29 Nicolson Street, Edinburgh EH8 9FT
Dates: 27 November – 7 December 2025
Running Time: Approximately 1 hour 45 minutes, including one interval
Age Guidance: Family Friendly
Admission: £28.50 – £62.00
Time: Evenings 7:30pm; matinees 2:30pm (Sun 7 December matinee 1:30pm)
Accessibility: Step-free access, lifts and accessible toilets available at Festival Theatre
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