Written by Brentwood Townend
Original score by Damien Simon

The Iron Flower: A Ballet

Château de Fleur de Fer – or the Iron Flower Castle – sits atop a towering mountaintop, watching over a sprawling expanse of forest drenched in snow. The castle’s innards are abandoned, nothing but miserable stone and the occasional harsh shriek of wind rattling against long-diffused candelabras and an ominously empty throne room. With the castle’s lived-in history long erased by time’s inescapable touch, the Iron Flower Castle serves as a mounted sepulcher, a bitter reminder to all forest dwellers below that even the mightiest of men behind the securest walls must, too, one day fall. There is more to the Iron Flower Castle, however, than it may first seem. Every so oen, a child of emboldened heart and irrepressible imagination flees from the forest and finds refuge within the confines of the castle.

BEGIN ACT I

So it is with our current tale as a young girl named Grace, seeking to get out of the snow, burrows her way through a slightly agape window. Upon her setting foot within the castle, the unthinkable occurs: suddenly, the Iron Flower’s desolate corridors bloom to life. The candelabras are lit once more, revealing scores of statuesque nobility roaming the estate, their bodies seemingly encased in glass. Shadowed creatures leap in and out of corridors, testing the limits of the flickering candlelight. The young king and queen sneak away from their duties and reprieve into a checkered ballroom to waltz in glamour and reminisce of simpler times.

Grace watches in blissful awe, afraid that her interacting with these wondrous sights will reveal them as the apparitions she fears they really are. Still, she presses on, eager to see more…and discovers the Iron Flower Castle’s darkest secret. The castle’s dungeon houses an exhausted-looking man in shackles, and Grace can’t help but intervene. Freeing him, the man explains to Grace that he, too, stumbled upon the castle long ago and became so bewitched that he found himself unwilling to leave. Eventually, though, the novelty wore off, and as he tried to exit, the castle itself turned on him and imprisoned him within its dungeon, and it has been slowly draining his youthfulness ever since.

Grace is horrified to learn this and seeks to escape with the man at once. Naturally, the statuesque nobility, the leaping shadows, and even the lovestruck royal couple seek to hinder them, but the duo’s crainess and youthfulness allow them to evade and even blend in with the castle’s attacks against them. As they exit through the same window Grace came in, Grace looks back and sees that the castle’s inhabitants have transformed into a hideous monster. She pauses, looks at the window, looks at the man trying to pull her out of the window, then looks at the monster. She cannot explain why she chooses to do this, but without another moment of hesitation, she smiles wistfully, lets go of the man’s hand, and envelops herself into the monster.

In the banks of snow outside of the castle, we see the man kneeling and weeping, grateful to have escaped the castle’s command over him but saddened by the cost. Standing up, he wipes the tears from his face and looks back at the castle, but it is gone. In its stead is a stunning natural sculpture of a woman covered completely in flowers of every color imaginable. At the sculpture’s feet, the snow has entirely melted. Enraptured, the man takes a single iron-colored flower from the sculpture and turns away, slowly descending down the mountain as the snow all around him melts with each step. He stops, looks back at the sculpture one last time, and holds the flower close to his chest as he heads into the forest.

END ACT I

ACT II

Time has passed and the man has lived a full life. In his elderly age, he finds himself consumed by memories; his dreams are haunted by thoughts of the castle and its mysterious magic, and in his waking moments, he marvels reverently at the iron flower he’d plucked so long ago, as it has not aged in the slightest. Finally, he resolves to return to the flowery sculpture and see what has become of it over all these years.

Carrying the iron flower with him, he returns to the sculpture and discovers that it has seemingly remained untouched over all these years. No flowers have withered, no observable change of decay can be seen whatsoever. The man kneels before it and drops the flower as he laments his old age, and the childhood that was taken from him by the castle.

Suddenly, the wind begins to pick up. The iron flower flutters, then several more join in, until a massive gust of wind completely showers the old man in flowers.

Once the wind passes, the old man steps out of the flowers to discover that he is young once more. What’s more, the flower sculpture has come alive! Taking him by the hand, the flowered woman and her entourage of little flower sprites guide him through a garden, where they behold a suite of dances.

The sunflower is expansive and indulgent in its dance, but sure to surprise with its occasional bursts of energy.

The iris is sophisticated and powerful, magnified by its underlying hints of softness and romanticism.

The daisy is quick, playful, and bright.

The hibiscus is innovative and unique with its not-quite-classical choreography.

The lily is elegance incarnate, almost somberly so
The rose is textured and every bit as romantic as you might expect. Finally, the suite of flowers culminates in a coda, or finale, where each flower’s melody returns and crescendos – each flower has a solo moment, then a final interweaving ensemble dance together.

As the suite of flowers commences, the sun has nearly set and the flowered woman gestures to the man that it is time for him to return to his home. Unwilling to part with his youthfulness, the man resists and they dance together in a pas de deux of angst, conflict, and beauty.

Finally, the sun sets and the flowered woman departs with finality, and the man becomes old once more, all alone in the field. Exhausted, he falls asleep right there in the field, with the memories of the castle and the flowers circling bombastically around him.

Morning comes and the old man awakens. As he rises, he is stunned to see that he is holding an iron-colored flower. Thinking it’d been lost with the flowered woman, he lis it up into the morning light wondrously. Clutching it to his chest, he thinks to take it with him, but over a bout of indecision, he chooses to leave it where the flowered woman had stood all those years. Resolved, the old man waits a few moments, then slowly backs away from the flower to turn and head home with newfound fervor.

END