My Life with Alan Foley: A bomb scare cut short my Swan Lake performance

Alan Foley of Cork City Ballet speaks on the 1987 performance where the curtains came down mid-show amid an emergency response

Artistic director of Cork City Ballet Alan Foley (pictured) recalled how a bomb scare in 1987 cut short a performance of Swan Lake at Cork Opera House. Picture by Miki Barlok

It was 1987, and the audience members of Swan Lake were sitting lost in wonderment before their enjoyment quickly turned to horror.

“Please evacuate the theatre immediately.” To this day, those robotic words still echo in my mind.

Of course, there is no reasoning with an intercom. And just like that, the curtain came down on our performance.

These weren’t the luxurious velvet curtains we were used to, but rather a forbidding metal shutter conventionally used to mitigate fire damage.

I happened to be performing the night Cork Opera House descended into chaos. Only, on this occasion, the drama was unfolding off stage.

Back then, I wasn’t preoccupied with fires or bomb scares. I had just one thing on my mind and that was ballet.

While the other blokes were preparing in the dressing room, I had changed like lightning so that I could race downstairs and watch the swans in action.

There I was, waiting patiently in the wings for my performance — the Spanish dance in act three. It was here that I witnessed the fire curtain plunge the stage into darkness.

Audible gasps from the crowd filled the theatre. They stifled the music wafting from the orchestra pit which, bar a few strings, had been all but muted.

It must have been one of the most bizarre sights Cork Opera House has ever bore witness to as dozens of swans took flight. 

Only this time, it wasn’t across a stage but through the exit on to Lavitt’s Quay.

It was a juxtaposing scene as dancers endured the biting November cold in flimsy tutus for the bones of an hour. 

My costume for the Spanish dance was more forgiving, and covered me from head to toe. I can’t say any of us were so much as vaguely embarrassed by the spectacle.

While some of the younger dancers might have experienced a fleeting rush of panic, there were no histrionics. 

This is to be expected in ballet. How many people do you know with careers that involve standing in front of a mirror for eight or nine hours a day judging themselves?

This will give you an idea of the constitution required to be a ballerina.

Joan Denise Moriarty — who was our artistic director at the time — was no different. If the disaster had rattled her she didn’t show it. 

By the time Cork Opera House was deemed safe again, it was too late. The performers were jittery with cold, preventing them from dancing for what was left of the night. 

Our main concern was for our prima ballerina, Coleen Davis. If she caught a chill, it would spell the end of any further performances for her that week. She powered through.

An extra day was added. It was important to us that the people who were evacuated had a second chance to see the show. 

That day came with its own challenges, the most unfortunate of which resulted from an oversight by the person briefing the cast.

It turned out the principal dancers, which included Hungarian ballet star Zoltán Solymosi, had a plane to catch that afternoon. 

If the performance went ahead, they would miss their flights.

By the time the miscommunication was uncovered, people were already milling into the theatre. The place was heaving with positive anticipation.

Cancelling a second time wasn’t an option. Someone explained our predicament to Prof Aloys Fleischmann, who took the orchestra at an unbelievable pace. 

Unbeknownst to the dancers, he had sped up the music in a bid to have the principal dancers out early so they could make their flights.

The dancers had no idea they would be performing at such speed. 

It was a miracle that it all went according to plan. What would normally have been a two-and-a-half-hour ballet was all done and dusted in an hour and 15 minutes.

It was remarkable that the dancers managed to perform Swan Lake at this speed, but they did so beautifully.

This is especially true for the iconic dance of the cygnets, which is one of the most difficult performances.

The experience did little to dampen my passion for Swan Lake, and I’m still just in love with the story — if not more so — as we prepare to stage the 2025 production at Cork Opera House.

As for the evacuation, Joan Denise Moriarty never spoke about that night. From what I gather, it was a bomb scare that transpired to be a hoax. 

However, it did teach us all an important lesson, that anything can happen in ballet.

• This year’s production of Cork City Ballet’s Swan Lake takes place at Cork Opera House from November 6 - 8. 
• Visit corkoperahouse.ie for more information