Dance diary. May 2025

Illume. Bangarra Dance Theatre

The May edition of Qantas Magazine carried a two page spread on visual artist Darrell Sibosado, who is the designer for the forthcoming Bangarra production, Illume. The article, written by Kate Hennessy, had the title ‘This First Nations visual artist is shining new light on ancient ceremonial carvings’. From reading the article, I discovered that Darrell Sibosado comes from the Dampier Peninsula in Western Australia and that his family is one of carvers, who, across time, have created designs on pearl shells to be used in particular ceremonies. In the article Sibosado says that, historically, the work of his family is ‘about capturing the iridescence, shine and many layers of the pearl’. It will be interesting to see how this background translates into his designs for Illume, in which Bangarra suggests we will ‘step out of the shadows and into the phenomena of light—the central life force of our planet’.

illumine, with choreography from Frances Rings, opens in Sydney on 4 June 2025 before travelling elsewhere. See the Bangarra website for further details of the creators and of the performance schedule.

Bonsai Ballerina

Jennifer Price was a dancer in Chicago but, after retiring, became transfixed by the art of Bonsai and took up the study of the creative procedure behind that art form. She was recently in Canberra for the 2025 AABC National Bonsai Convention, which celebrated (amongst other things) the 50th anniversary of the Canberra Bonsai Society. The convention closed with an exhibition (free to the public) and the images below are two of the items that were on display in that exhibition.

Two examples of Bonsai from the Canberra Bonsai Exhibition, 2025. Photos: © Michelle Potter

I know very little about Price’s dance background, and probably less about the art of Bonsai, but from the often stunning examples on show in the exhibition I was not surprised that a former dancer was moved to look deeper into the art form. I was attracted of course by the name that the media gave to Price—’Bonsai Ballerina’!

Stanton Welch on a new Raymonda

I have been thinking recently about Queensland Ballet’s repertoire of ‘reimagined’ narratives for well known ballets—Greg Horsman’s La Bayadère and Coppélia for example. So I was interested to discover that Stanton Welch, Australian artistic director of Houston Ballet since 2003, has just created a new version of Raymonda. It opened on 29 May and the YouTube link below features Welch talking about creating this work.

Chandrabhanu turns 75

Back in 1998 I recorded an oral history interview for the National Library of Australia with dancer Dr Chandrabhanu, whose particular interests were, and still are in Bharata Natyam, Odissi and contemporary dance. That interview is available for research purposes but any public use of it requires written permission. A summary of the contents of the interview can, however, be seen at this link.

Chandrabhanu, ca. 1998. Photo: © Jim Hooper/National Library of Australia

Well Dr Chandrabhanu is turning 75 this year and his latest production, Bharata Natyam Reprise, will celebrate that personal milestone with a revival in Melbourne in early June of classical and contemporary compositions of the Bharatam Dance Company. See this link for further details.

Press for May 2025

– ‘Multi-media novelty item that was sometimes over the top.’ Review of A Book of Hours, Rubiks Collective. CBR City News, 4 May 2025. Online at this link.

Michelle Potter, 31 May 2025

Featured image: Media image for Illume, Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2025. Photo: © Daniel Boud

Cranko. The film

21 May 2025. Screened at the German Film Festival, Palace Electric Cinemas, Canberra

Cranko is quite a long film, over two hours. But it has such an engrossing narrative, as well as being a superbly realised production, that those two and a bit hours absolutely raced along. The film held one’s attention from beginning to end.

Directed and written by Joachim Lang, Cranko is, to use the media description, a ‘biopic’ of John Cranko, South African-born dancer and choreographer who directed Stuttgart Ballet from 1961 until his premature death in 1973. We are given brief information about his early life and aspects of his pre-Stuttgart dance career in England, but the film centres on his career with Stuttgart Ballet, a career that sees him engage, as both director and choreographer and even friend, with the artists who created for the company, including not just dancers but administrative personnel, designers, composers and others.

The ‘engagement’ was filled with all kinds of behaviour from Cranko. His personality was quite varied: he shouted pretty much at the drop of a hat, for example; he ignored standard procedures like ‘no smoking’ signs; he loved and there were a number of aspects of loving for him; he drank to the extent of being an alcoholic; he was at times overcome by depression and we were made aware of his attempts at suicide; and more. But basically he cared about dance. We see it all and his personality is brilliantly portrayed by Sam Riley, the actor who plays Cranko.

A still from *Cranko* showing Sam Riley as Cranko.

The action largely takes place in the studios of Stuttgart Ballet and its surrounds although we are taken to New York and the Met on a number of occasions when the company had engagements there. The dance component is stunningly danced by artists of the present day Stuttgart Ballet and the dance happens on many occasions and at times in unexpected ways. There are several sections from Romeo and Juliet and Onegin and I was especially delighted to see excerpts, filmed outdoors on a park bench, from The Lady and the Fool, a ballet I haven’t seen for many years. Perhaps most outstanding of the dancers was Elisa Badenes who played the role of Marcia Haydée, a major star of Stuttgart Ballet during the Cranko era and beyond. But the dancing throughout was just superb from the entire dancing cast.

Elisa Badenes and Friedemann Vogel in a moment from *Onegin*. Photo: Roman Novitzky/Stuttgart Ballet.

Cranko’s death on board a plane returning Stuttgart Ballet personnel from the United States to Germany is perhaps the most frustrating part of the film. Cranko takes a sleeping pill but doesn’t wake up and is mourned by those on board and by the people who meet the plane when it lands. But we don’t really get any idea of what happened. Was it that pill?*

But there was a truly moving section at the end as the credits began. The original artists, whose life with Cranko was examined in the film, appeared (where that was possible) alongside the current dancers—Marcia Haydée stood next to Elisa Badenes for example. Just so moving.

Cranko is a spectacular film. I can’t wait to see it again—somehow.

Michelle Potter, 22 May 2025

Featured image: A still from Cranko showing Sam Riley as Cranko

* After a bit of research I found that the plane had been diverted and had landed in Dublin where hospital attempts (unsuccessful) were made to reverse the situation. Later a Dublin-based Coroner made the following statement: ‘Mr. Cranko had taken chloral hydrate, a drug prescribed by his phyiicians, and the amount he took was nowhere near a fatal dose. Death was due to asphyxia by stomach inhalation while under the hypnotic effect of the drug, the coroner said. “This was an accidental death,” he declared.’

Manon. The Australian Ballet (2025)

14 May 2025. Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House

Having just reread Different Drummer, Jann Parry’s 2009 biography of Kenneth MacMillan, choreographer of the ballet Manon, I was curious to see the Australian Ballet’s production of that work. Would the background that Parry provides in her biography open up the work for me. Well I wasn’t disappointed.

As a choreographer MacMillan is definitely a ‘different drummer’ and it was a particular treat to watch his pas de deux, the format with which, according to Parry, he loved to start work on each new initiative. Although I thought some of the pas de deux in Manon might be considered a little long (the final one in which Manon died in the arms of Lescaut for example), all were spectacular in terms of the connections, physical and emotional, that the choreography set up between whichever two characters were involved. Not only that I was fascinated to watch the tiny details MacMillan put into his choreography. The feet and the hands often took on surprising details, and the pirouettes and tours en l’air from the male dancers often ended in unusual ways that clearly required exceptional technical input. Then there was MacMillan’s handling of groups of dancers, including some quite beautiful moments of canon-style choreography. As a whole, the choreography of Manon is truly masterful.

But who staged the production I wondered? For the choreography to look as remarkable as it did, the work also needed to be staged well and with more than a passing understanding of what constitutes excellence in staging a narrative ballet. It turned out that this production was staged by Laura Morera and Gregory Mislin. Mislin is the Royal Ballet’s choreologist. Morera is a former Royal Ballet dancer whose work I have admired on many an occasion but who is now artistic supervisor for both the MacMillan and the Scarlett Estates. Morera was recently principal coach for Queensland Ballet’s production of MacMillan’s Romeo and Juliet, which was staged by Gary Harris. Both Harris and Morera did a magnificent job on that occasion. So I was not a bit surprised when I discovered Morera had staged the Australian Ballet’s Manon. The Australian Ballet’s Manon, like the Queensland Ballet Romeo and Juliet, was completely engaging as a story from beginning to end, as well of course as being fabulously danced by the impressive artists of the Australian Ballet.

At the mid-season matinee I attended I saw Jill Ogai as Manon and Marcus Morelli as Des Grieux, Manon’s (eventual and final) lover. Both danced well, perhaps especially Morelli who attacked the choreography with strength and commitment. But for me the standout dancers were Cameron Holmes as Lescaut (Manon’s brother) and Katherine Sonnekus as Lescaut’s mistress. They both have secure techniques, which allows plenty of freedom to develop characterisation. The acting from both of them was outstanding making it easy for the audience to engage with them. The absolute highlight was their pas de deux in Act II at the party given by Madame X (Gillian Revie) at which Lescaut had had one too many glasses (or bottles) of alcohol. His drunken stumbles, at which the audience fell about laughing, simply made his attack on MacMillan’s demands look even more brilliant. Sonnekus managed to handle beautifully the many incredible lifts that, cleverly, looked like the work of a drunken man but which were definitely MacMillan-esquely balletic.

The music by Jules Massenet was nicely played by Opera Australia Orchestra while Peter Farmer’s sets and costumes evoked well the period and the locations. With all aspects of the production working together so well, the story (which I have not gone into in detail here*) was clear and the two to three hours of dancing was an absolute delight.

I guess my one quibble is that this production really needs a bigger stage than that of the Joan Sutherland Theatre (a common issue of course). There were times, especially in Act I, when there was just too much happening on stage. The activities were being brilliantly handled but there were times when those activities were too close to the main action and were thus distracting from that action to too great an extent.

Despite the quibble, this production of Manon showed MacMillan’s brilliance. Huge compliments must go to Laura Morera and Gregory Mislin for their input in making that brilliance shine through, not forgetting that the dancing was splendid across the board from the dancers of the Australian Ballet.

Michelle Potter, 15 May 2025

Featured image: Artists of the Australian Ballet in the card scene from Act II of Manon, 2025. Photo: © Daniel Boud

*For a synopsis of Manon see this link.

Garden. QL2 Dance

2 May 2025. Fitters’ Workshop, Kingston, Canberra

Garden took place in a very different venue from what we are used to for productions by QL2 Dance: the Fitters’ Workshop in the Canberra suburb of Kingston. I was somewhat taken aback when I first heard of this major change from the traditional theatre space in which the annual May production by QL2 has usually taken place. I’d never heard of the Fitters’ Workshop (despite having lived in Canberra for several decades). But, after doing some research into what and where it was, I was more than a little taken aback—it was a space with no stage, no dressing rooms, no seating, nothing of a theatrical nature really. It seemed like nothing more than an empty rectangular space.*

Well I needn’t have worried really as the space had been fitted out by QL2 with a portable stage that covered pretty much the length of the hall. The stage was raised off the floor and I assumed, therefore, that it was a sprung stage. Great! Cross lighting had been installed and three or so rows of tiered seating had been placed along one wall. There was a curtained off area at each end of the stage, one of which was used as a dressing area. Would the dance works be well accommodated in this area I wondered?

I am also assuming this set up was not permanent because the Fitters’ Workshop seems to be available for hire for other activities (at least it was, and perhaps still is?). Will QL2 continue to perform in this building?

Garden opened with Bloom choreographed by James Batchelor to a score by Batchelor’s frequent collaborator, Morgan Hickinbotham. Bloom continued Batchelor’s ongoing interest in the lineage of Ausdruckstanz, the expressive dance movement that had its beginnings with choreographers working in the early twentieth century in Germany and Austria. It began with a certain degree of simplicity in movement and groupings but slowly became more complex and developed greater connections between dancers when some duets as well as some solo work were introduced. There was an emphasis throughout on curved arm movements and ongoing fluidity. Every moment was beautifully performed by all the dancers whatever their age.

The shape of the performing space was wide rather than deep and Batchelor’s choreography seemed to take advantage of this with a constant and engrossing crossing of the wide area available. The idea behind Bloom was to indicate intergenerational connections and the growth of artists across time. It worked well.

Duet from Bloom. QL2 Dance, 2025. Photo: © Olivia Wikner, O&J Wikner Photography

The second work on the program was the beginning is the end is the beginning with choreography by Alice Lee Holland and performed to sound by STREAMS, a ‘convergence’, as program notes tell us, between Malcolm McDowell and Stevie Smiles. In many respects the work seemed somewhat similar in choreographic content to Bloom especially in the continued emphasis on arms, the way in which the wide stage space was used, and in the juxtaposition of group and solo work. I wondered whether there had perhaps been too much emphasis on input from the dancers rather than from the choreographer?

The beginning is the end is the beginning was distinguished in my eyes, however, by the way the younger dancers performed. While all performers danced strikingly, with passion and commitment, the young dancers performed with a technique that defied their age. The work continued the overall theme of the program, that of artistic growth across time.

Costumes for both works were by Andrew Treloar, whose experience is broad-ranging across art forms and companies. They were quite loose fitting and thus eminently danceable costumes. They looked great too.

As a final comment, the Fitters’ Workshop worked quite well as a venue for this show, although I still wonder whether or not the young dancers are missing out on the experience of working in a traditional theatre space. A regular theatre is a somewhat different experience and is a space that many of them will find themselves working in should they go on to a professional career. Having said that, I have to say that the standard of the dancing in both works was a credit to all.

Michelle Potter, 7 May 2025

Featured image: Scene from Alice Lee Holland’s the beginning is the end is the beginning. QL2 Dance, 2025. Photo: © Olivia Wikner, O&J Wikner Photography

*The current Fitters’ Workshop website gives the following historical information: ‘The Fitters’ Workshop is a heritage listed building and part of the Kingston Power House historic precinct. Constructed in 1916-1917 and designed by John Smith Murdoch, the Fitters’ Workshop formed a key part of a wider industrial complex that enabled maintenance of government plant and equipment, and construction work.’

A Book of Hours. Rubiks Collective

3 May 2025. National Film and Sound Archive, Canberra International Music Festival

My review of A Book of Hours was published by CityNews online on 4 May. Below is a slightly altered version of the review. For those of my readers who may not know the ‘bonang’, which is mentioned in the text, I have added some images at the end of this post. The review as in CityNews is at this link.

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The production A Book of Hours gives our ears a classical-contemporary score by Kate Neal, created with the concept of the medieval Book of Hours and its divisions of time as its focus. But the score is more a reimagining of those ideas and asks us look at how time is spent in the present day. The performance in Canberra was part of the Canberra International Music Festival and the score was played by the Rubiks Collective.

The Collective consists of four musicians performing on flute (of which there was more than one) played by Tamara Kohler, on keyboard with Jacob Abela, on cello from Gemma Kneale and on percussion by Kaylie Melville. The score had, to my ears, a strongly percussive overall sound. It made for interesting listening.

Our eyes were given much to take in. The music was played in front of video footage in various formats projected on to a screen at the back of the performing space. Those formats included various kinds of animation from visual artist Sal Cooper, as well as examples of human movement from choreographer Gerard van Dyck, who also performed the movement on film. It was often a fascinating watch especially those moments when van Dyck appeared to be continually falling from the sky.

In addition, much movement was generated onstage by the musicians. They interrupted moments of playing with various personal actions such as cleaning their teeth, combing their hair, adding underarm deodorant, and with various movements of the hands unrelated to the playing of an instrument.

But listening to the score and watching the playing of it, I was surprised to see the percussion section included an instrument that I thought was an Indonesian bonang, the well-known instrument that includes a collection of gongs on a wooden platform. The trouble is that in this case the gongs were of an assortment of different sizes and scattered randomly across the platform. Who knows what an Indonesian would think of it? I disliked the mess that was there given that the instrument is actually a beautifully arranged series of gongs in horizontal lines. Although I guess the mess fitted with the idea of the reimagining around which the overall work was made.

So, what of the hours themselves? They were represented on screen by a huge variety of images of clock faces, some even created from a circle of decorative biscuits. In addition to the biscuits there were speaking clocks, small and large images of all kinds of clocks, as well as digital expressions of time passing. Although it seemed at times that the clocks would never go away as there were so many of them coming and going, in many respects the variety of clocks shown on the screen was the most interesting aspect of the whole show.

A Book of Hours was, to my mind, a multi-media novelty item. Sometimes it was funny, sometimes interesting to hear and watch. But it was also sometimes over the top and do we listen or watch? It was hard to decide. I’d rather listen OR watch rather than being presented with the impossible decision the production asked us to make.

Michelle Potter, 5 May 2025

Featured image: A scene from A Book of Hours in Canberra showing an episode of tooth cleaning on the screen behind the musicians. Photo: © Peter Hislop

(left) A bonang from the Musical Instruments Museum in Phoenix, Arizona. Photo: ksblack99; (right) A section of a bonang (in the foreground)—Embassy of the Republic of Indonesia, Canberra, open day 2019. Photo: © Neville Potter

Dance diary. April 2025

April is the middle month of Autumn in the southern hemisphere. Spectacular colours abound in nature as dance for 2025 continues, despite a disheartening approach to funding for the art form.

The difficult financial situation that Queensland Ballet is facing, for example, is more than disheartening, although the exact changes that are being made to the company are yet to be fully revealed. To date, Brett Clark, Chair of QB Board, is reported as saying (amongst other remarks on the situation): Over the years, we have worked hard to leverage our base grants from State and Federal Governments and have unapologetically advocated loudly for parity of Federal funding to bring us in line with our peers in New South Wales and Victoria. To date we have been unsuccessful.

In 2025, to ensure our ongoing sustainability, we have made the difficult decision to re-vision our organisation across our Artistic and Business teams which will see us farewell some of our artists and arts workers.

It is also thoroughly frustrating that in the lead-up to the federal election in Australia on 3 May no political party appears to have made any mention of the arts.

New books

Elizabeth Dalman’s book, Nature moves, was launched in Canberra on 27 April 2025 with a short opening performance from Vivienne Rogis and Peng Hsaio-yin. The performance was followed by a launch speech from Cathy Adamek, executive director of Ausdance ACT.

The performance was danced on a lawn that fronts a particular shopping area in Canberra, and under a large and very old tree—appropriate of course given that Dalman’s book examines dance and nature. When the dance came to an end, the audience simply crossed the road for the launch function, which was held in, and sponsored by, the local bookshop, The Book Cow.

Vivienne Rogis (standing) and Peng Hsaio-yin dancing at the launch of *Nature Moves*, Canberra 2025. Photo: © Michelle Potter

Under the heading ‘Press for April 2025’ (see below) is my short article, which was published in CityNews on 28 April 2025, and which expands a little on how the launch unfolded.

Nature Moves is available from The Book Cow, via this link.

I also discovered, quite accidentally, news about the latest publication by Jill Rivers, whose generosity to reviewers I remember clearly from a period, some years ago now, when she was media director for the Australian Ballet. Her current publication, The Genius of Nijinsky, is an interesting read as Rivers had spent much time speaking to the present-day family of Vaslav Nijinsky. Her presence with, and thoughts about, those family members in a range of situations, sometimes quite personal, are embedded within the story.

The Genius of Nijinsky can be bought via a link to the site Art-full Living.

David Hallberg at Jacob’s Pillow, 2012

The latest playlist from Jacob’s Pillow has a short clip of David Hallberg, currently artistic director of the Australian Ballet, performing Nacho Duato’s Kaburias. Watch at this link.

A still showing David Hallberg in a moment from *Kaburias*, Jacob’s Pillow 2012

Just a year or two prior to the performance at Jacob’s Pillow, I had the pleasure of seeing Hallberg perform solo in New York in the series Kings of the Dance. Read my review here.

International Dance Day 2025

International Dance Day, 29 April, is always celebrated with a message from a major figure in the dance world. This year, 2025, the message came from Mikhail Baryshnikov whose comment read:

It’s often said that dance can express the unspeakable. Joy, grief, and despair become visible; embodied expressions of our shared fragility. In this, dance can awaken empathy, inspire kindness, and spark a desire to heal rather than harm.

Especially now—as hundreds of thousands endure war, navigate political upheaval, and rise in protest against injustice—honest reflection is vital. It’s a heavy burden to place on the body, on dance, on art. Yet art is still the best way to give form to the unspoken, and we can begin by asking ourselves: Where is my truth? How do I honor myself and my community? Whom do I answer to?

Latvian-born, Baryshnikov defected from the USSR in 1974. He has performed in Australia on various occasions, including in 1975 when he appeared with Ballet Victoria.

Mikhail Baryshnikov as Albrecht. *Giselle*, Act Ii. Ballet Victoria, 1975. Photo: © Walter Stringer/National Library of Australia

Press for April 2025

Dalman’s book looks at the creation of dance in nature

Michelle Potter, 30 April 2025

Featured image: Autumn colours in Canberra, April 2025. Photo: © Michelle Potter

Limen. The Royal Ballet

Via the ROH streaming platform

Wayne McGregor made Limen as an exploration of the concept of liminality. The word liminality is not all that easy to define, and to tell the truth I spent a bit of time looking at how it is defined in different settings, including as an anthropological concept. In the end I settled for the fact that the word ‘limen’ in Latin means ‘threshold’ and I watched the ballet with that in my mind.

The ballet as streamed is from 2009, the year of its premiere. It opens in a darkish-blue environment with set and video design by Tatsuo Miyajima, along with a lighting design by Lucy Carter.

A moment from the opening of *Limen*. The Royal Ballet, 2011. Photo: © Tristram Kenton

In this environment dancers come and go as numbers and letters flash into the space and then, like the dancers, disappear. As we watch we can’t help but notice the astonishing manner in which McGregor pushes his choreographic movements into scarcely believable shapes, poses and connections without destroying completely the intrinsic characteristics of ballet. There are some intriguing moments between Steven McRae and Leanne Benjamin before she moves off leaving him alone.

Leanne Benjamin and Steven McRae in *Limen*. The Royal Ballet, 2011. Photo: © Tristram Kenton

The environment then changes with brighter lighting and with lines of coloured light creating a rectangular shape, or later stripes in parallel lines, on the stage floor on which the dancers continue their performance. McRae shines again, in particular with his triple pirouettes. But every dancer, dressed mostly in brightly coloured tops over mostly light, flesh coloured briefs, attacked McGregor’s demanding choreography with gusto.

But without a doubt the highlight of the work was an absolutely stunning pas de deux coming towards the end of the work and danced by Sarah Lamb (on pointe) and Eric Underwood. Lamb scarcely looked into the eyes of Underwood but the connection between them was intense. The fluidity as they moved together was engrossing and they seemed like just one person. Breathtaking!

As the pas de deux came to its end the stage blackened and the performing space lit up with tiny blue dots, numbers in various sizes, and letters all positioned seemingly randomly. Shadowy dancers appeared wearing simple costumes in skin coloured fabric. They danced together before Lamb and Underwood returned. But they too slipped away and were followed by a single dancer. But he too disappeared, as did the blue dots leaving nothing but a blackened space as the finale.

Limen is danced to a cello concerto by Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho, Notes on Light, which, as the Wayne McGregor website notes, was inspired by the idea of a solar eclipse. Although there were many moments that seemed to show the dancers on the threshold of beginning (or ending) a connection with others—thus reflecting the notion of liminality—Limen seemed to me to be more rewardingly seen as an abstract ballet demonstrating McGregor’s choreographic style. Like all of McGregor’s ballets, Limen is a masterly collaboration that leaves us both emotionally drained and filled with thoughts.

Michelle Potter, 26 April 2025

Dance Week 2025. Savour the program being presented by Ausdance ACT

A somewhat intriguing sentence appears on the website of Ausdance ACT as the organisation sets out to introduce us to its program for Dance Week 2025. The suggestion is, Experience a tasting plate of performances, workshops, and activities for all ages with a range of free classes and events. Within those three sections (courses?) on the tasting plate—performances, workshops, and activities for all ages—there is a diverse menu from which we can choose.

Dance in the ACT has a community focus, which in a variety of ways reflects Canberra’s multicultural population. It also has a focus on diversity with the area’s dance activities also being inclusive of a range of ages with, for example, the presence of groups such as Canberra Dance Theatre’s GOLD company, which consists of dancers over the age of 55, and the Blueberries Classes for children from two to four years of age (and their parents). Many of these community groups have strong professional connections, but there is also a range of fully professional organisations focusing specifically on dance.

Dr Cathy Adamek, Executive Director of Ausdance ACT is convinced that dance has a particularly strong and well-defined presence in the ACT. She notes:

I have examined statistics from AusfitNation, which comes through the Department of Sport and Recreation and, according to those statistics, there are more dance studios per capita in the ACT than anywhere else in Australia. We have very strong student and pre-professional training pathways in Canberra. Not only that, perceptions of dance have changed. Dance has become a more inclusive form of activity. It has also become something that can be done at any level as a hobby.

Ausdance ACT’s 2025 Dance Week program brilliantly puts on display the complexity and diversity of dance in the ACT. Looking at the ‘Performance menu’, for example, there are presentations from Folk Dance Canberra; the Stellar Company featuring the Chamaeleon Collective and Hilal Dance Australia; Canberra Dance Theatre; QL2 Dance; a solo show from independent artist Mia Rashid; and a street performance combining contemporary dance, Butoh and improvisation.

A scene from *Stars in 3D* from the Chamaeleon Collective. *Stars in 3D* will feature in Dance Week 2025. Photo: © Andrew Sikorski

The ‘Workshop menu’ is also hugely varied and includes a Burlesque Workshop from the Menagerie of Misfits, and a Dance Film Workshop to discover, with Peng Hsiao-yin from Danceology Taiwan, how to film an original and creative self-portrait video. Then there’s the Australian Dance Party’s Immerse Lab with Omer Backley-Astrachan, a choreographer and educator who has worked with a range of dance companies across Australia, and an improvisation event with Debora Di Centa at Mirramu Creative Arts Centre. And more.

As for classes that are available, many of which are free to participants, the variety is impressive. They cross a wide range of dance styles—ballet, contemporary, hip-hop, belly dance, street dance, fitness, and other styles—and they range from classes for young children, classes for those with a disability, classes for older people, and more. One has a fascinating name: ‘Loitering & Leaping in the Library with ZEST’. It takes place in the National Library of Australia and is led by ZEST Dance for Wellbeing.

A class for older dancers. Photo: O&J Wikner Photography

Cathy Adamek stresses that there is a very strong emphasis on participation and inclusiveness in this year’s program, along with what she refers to as ‘a real rise and engagement with a younger generation as well as connections we have been able to make with some independent artists.’

Dance Week, which is always held around the date of International Dance Day on 29 April, runs in Canberra from 28 April to 5 May. The tasting plate looks delicious.

Here is the link to the full program for Dance Week in the ACT. Watch or participate, or both. Dance is for everyone.

Michelle Potter, 23 April 2025

Nijinsky. The Australian Ballet (2025)

16 April 2025 (matinee), Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House

John Neumeier’s Nijinsky is a spectacular and highly complex work. I have had the good fortune of seeing it several times (twice by Hamburg Ballet, the company for which the work was made in 2000). In terms of the nature of the work and its relationship to the dramatic life of Vaslav Nijinsky, I can’t do any better than provide a link to the time Hamburg Ballet presented it in Brisbane in 2012 (now unbelievably over 10 years ago). Here is the link to that review.

Nevertheless, each time I see Neumeier’s Nijinsky I notice something a little more clearly than I did on previous viewings. It’s that kind of work. It opens up further with each viewing. I was staggered this time by Neumeier’s choreography as it was so clear that his choice of movement was just brilliant in the sense that it captured the intrinsic nature of the characters represented. Perhaps my awareness of the power of Neumeier’s choreography was heightened as a result of seeing (and disliking) Schachmatt (Checkmate in English translation) from Spanish/international choreographer Cayetano Soto with its dismantling of the balletic vocabulary. Neumeier also dismantled the vocabulary to a certain extent but those splayed fingers, flat palms of the hand, bent elbows, twisted bodies and the like were so much part of the erratic and obsessive behaviour that marked the last years of Nijinsky’s life. They had a meaning that was absolutely within the narrative. (Not so with Schachmatt.)

Of the cast I saw on this occasion, a mid-season matinee, I was impressed in particular with Mia Heathcote as Romola Nijinska, especially in her short scenes with the Doctor, danced by Jarryd Madden, who was treating Nijinsky for a range of issues. Nijinska’s infidelity was very clear. I also was impressed by Luke Marchant who danced the role of Nijinsky as Petrushka, especially in Act II when his dramatic solo was strongly presented.

In general the Australian Ballet dancers performed reasonably well with Elijah Trevitt in the lead role of Nijinsky. But I guess I longed for something that approached the absolute power of other occasions that I have been lucky enough to have seen.

Michelle Potter, 18 April 2025

Featured image: the opening scene (with Kylie Foster at the piano) of Nijinsky showing the ballroom of Suvretta House, St Moritz, where Nijinsky gave his last performance. Photo: © Michelle Potter

Swan Lake. Victorian State Ballet

My review of Swan Lake from Victorian State Ballet was published online on 5 April 2025 by CBR CityNews. Read it at this link. Below is a slightly enlarged version of the review.

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4 April 2025. Canberra Theatre

The dance world has seen a wealth of versions of the ballet Swan Lake since its first performance in Moscow in 1877. Many choreographers have taken up the story of Odette, the Swan Queen, and the supporting characters, including of course Prince Siegfried, whose activities have impacted her life. Some choreographers have made changes to the storyline and created new, highly personalised choreography for their creations. Others have attempted to recreate the original work, as far as that is possible.

The production presented by Victorian State Ballet was choreographed and co-directed by Michelle Sierra. It followed to a large extent the traditional narrative of Odette, who has been turned into a swan by the evil von Rothbart. Her return to human form is only possible by a declaration of love from a human being.

We saw most of the familiar and most celebrated aspects of the traditional story: in Act 1 the birthday celebrations of Prince Siegfried; the dance of the four little swans in Act II; the thirty-two fouettés from Odile (who is impersonating Odette) in Act III; the character dances from across the world, also in Act III; the several pas de deux between the Prince and the Swan Queen across the work; and the impressive groupings of swans in Acts II and IV.

The four little swans. *Swan Lake* Act II. Victorian State Ballet, 2025. Photo: © Ashley Lean

But there is an astonishing ending to the final act of Victorian State Ballet’s production. The finale to Swan Lake has seen various changes over the years, but I have never seen anything like the ending devised by Michelle Sierra.

In Act II, Siegfried, while out hunting following his birthday celebrations, has fallen in love with Odette, the leader of a group of swans. But in Act III, at a ball in his palace, he is deceived by declaring his love for an uninvited guest, Odile, having been persuaded with the help of von Rothbart (disguised as a magician) that she is Odette.

In Act IV Siegfried returns to the lakeside where he first encountered Odette. Both are in despair over what has happened and declare their love for each other. This declaration destroys the curse of von Rothbart who dies dramatically onstage. But even more dramatic is the return to human form by Odette and the totally unexpected transformation of Siegfried into a swan. He has taken his place in the flock of swans from which Odette has been saved. A staggering change to the story!

Some other noticeable changes were choreographic. I especially enjoyed the character dances in Act III which had a stronger than usual balletic component to them. I was also impressed by the way in which von Rothbart, danced by Tristan Gross, appeared to have a greater role in the work than is usual. He often only appears briefly and is sometimes only seen from a distance. In this production he interacted closely with the swans, including Odette, in Act II and there was no doubt as to his importance. But I wish his acting had been a little more dramatic. Perhaps his costume and make-up needed to be a little more impressive? His evil character just didn’t seem clear or strong enough.

The dual role of Odette/Odile was well danced by Elise Jacques and that of Siegfried by Benjamin Harris. Especially strong performances also came from the two leading swans, Maggie de Koning and Alexia Simpson, who worked well together given their similar performing style and that they were of a similar height.

My big gripe, however, concerns the overall technical standard of the dancing. The dancers in this company use their arms, and upper body in general, with beautiful fluidity and sense of shape. But I so wish they (and I mean all of them including the principals) put the same effort into their feet. Well pointed feet make a huge difference to the quality of ballet dancing and poor use of the feet prevented this Swan Lake from being as strong as it might have been.

Michelle Potter, 5 April 2025