The Bright Stream. Bolshoi Ballet

7 June 2013, Lyric Theatre, Queensland Performing Arts Centre, Brisbane

The back story to The Bright Stream has been told and retold. Originally created in 1935 with choreography by Fyodor Lopukhov and with a score by Dmitri Shostakovich, the ballet lasted just months. Set on a Soviet-style farm at harvest time, but with some eccentric touches to the story of collective agriculture, the ballet was banned by Joseph Stalin.

As the overture begins in Alexei Ratmansky’s restaging of The Bright Stream for the Bolshoi Ballet, which dates to 2003, we understand something of this back story. We are faced with a front cloth covered with various Soviet slogans and some headlines from Russian newspapers, said to be those of Pravda in its review of The Bright Stream, and in its review of another of Shostakovich’s scores, that for Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, which Stalin also hated. Amongst the extracts and slogans are ‘Ballet falsehood’, ‘Muddle instead of music’, ‘Tractors and kindergartens are the gearbox of the new village’, and others of a similar nature.

Working from the original libretto, but without any choreographic notation from the 1930s, Ratmansky has built his version of The Bright Stream, the title being the name of the collective farm, using his classical heritage mixed with his unique choreographic sensibilities and a clear talent for humour and characterisation. What emerges over two hours is a comic ballet based on the lives of a group of peasants living in the steppes of the northern part of the Causcasus region. They become entangled with a visiting group of entertainers from the city and what ensues is a world of flirtatious encounters and mistaken identities, the latter largely as a result of moments of cross dressing.

Maria Aleksandrova in 'The Bright Stream'. Photo: Damir Yusupov — Maria Aleksandrova as the Ballerina in *The Bright Stream*. Photo: © Damir Yusupov

What a joy it was to see the beautifully accomplished Bolshoi dancers performing Ratmansky’s choreography. Whether whipping off a few fouettés (with never a hint of moving across the stage), performing a series of jetés, or tossing off a manège of jumps, they danced with such attack, made everything look so easy, and always looked as though performing was pure pleasure for them. The two leading ladies, Maria Aleksandrova as the ballerina from the city and Nina Kapstova as Zina the local entertainment organiser, both gave finely sculpted performances, but the entire cast deserves bouquets.

Ratmansky’s choreography for groups of women was especially captivating. He often arranged steps in canon and the overall image that emerged as arabesque followed arabesque, for example, was a little like the movement of plaiting and unplaiting. I loved too the characters that populated The Bright Stream—the elderly folk in particular—and I especially liked that, while they were all drawn with broad, comic brush strokes, there seemed to be no desire by the dancers to overplay their characterisations. As a result these folk were funny and eccentric but believably so.

Maria Aleksandrova and Ruslan Skvortsov in 'The Bright Stream'. Photo: Damir Yusupov — Left: Maria Aleksandrova and Ruslan Skvortsov; right: Vladislav Lantratov. Both photos: © Yusupov

Vladislav Lantratov in 'The Bright Stream'. Photo: Damir Yusupov — Left: Maria Aleksandrova and Ruslan Skvortsov; right: Vladislav Lantratov. Both photos: © Yusupov

But perhaps the most fascinating aspect of The Bright Stream was Ratmansky’s development of those scenes in which, as a joke, two of the main characters, the Ballerina from the city and her partner, dress in each other’s costumes and set up a romantic tryst with two elderly dacha dwellers who have joined the harvest festivities. Ruslan Skvortsov, dressed in a long white Romantic tutu, gave a wonderful performance as the (cross-dressed) Ballerina. Ratmanksy’s choreography for him was an absolute delight. It had moments that recalled Giselle, Pas de Quatre, Les Sylphides and La Sylphide, all arranged in a topsy-turvy mix. The image of Skvortsov with his index finger under his chin à la Pas de Quatre will remain in my mind for some time.

So was there any hint of politics in this work? After all, collective farms did not always operate as happy and productive initiatives in Soviet Russia. Well, the Grim Reaper appears during the final scenes as the harvest festival begins. He joins in the dancing with his scythe swinging wildly round and round. But the people largely ignore him and he disappears as unexpectedly as he appeared. We can make what we like of this appearance but it adds a touch of politics to a fascinating ballet that shows Ratmansky as a choreographer of unusual and diverse strengths and abilities.

Michelle Potter, 9 June 2013

Alison Plevery and Liz Lea, 'InFlight'. Photos: Lorna Sim

InFlight. Liz Lea & Co

31 May 2013, National Library of Australia Theatre, Canberra

The National Library’s theatre is quite unsuited to dance. It is a lecture theatre really, although capable also of acting as a cinema. It has a small, oddly-shaped area at the front of an auditorium that holds about 300 people. The auditorium is raked but anything that is ‘grounded’ movement is difficult to see unless one is sitting in the first few rows. Liz Lea did her best to accommodate the space and its severe limitations. From a practical point of view, for example, a small dais allowed some movement to be seen to better advantage, and she had some lovely black and white screens at each side of the performing space that allowed the performers to change costumes at various points. But I think she did herself a disservice by performing InFlight in the National Library Theatre.

InFlight is in two parts. Part I, ‘Aviatrix’, is inspired by the exploits of Charles Kingsford Smith, Charles Ulm and female aviation pioneers, the British woman Amy Johnson and the American Amelia Earhart. In this section, four dancers play out a fantasy of becoming aviatrixes themselves.

The choreography was severely limited by the space available. I enjoyed the dance that opened the show, a 1920s–1930s style number with fabulous black and silver costumes and gorgeous red and black feather fans. But so often the dancers, Melanie and Marnie Polamares, seemed to be just moving on the spot. It did however serve its purpose well by setting the scene in the era of pioneer aviation activities.

The audio-visual material screened throughout Part I included the voices of Ulm and Kingsford Smith, footage of Johnson and others, still photographs of them all (interspersed with photos of the dancers dressed in aviation gear), and contemporary newspaper headlines. There was so much audio-visual material that the choreography became a side issue. This section seems to me to be more suited to being shown as something other than a dance performance. A history lesson about pioneering moments in aviation?

Part II, ‘Aviary’, leaves aviation history behind and the four dancers are transformed into birds, staking out a territory and building nests. Miranda Wheen’s solo was a highlight as she, wearing an elegant long white dress and manipulating two large white feather fans, sought a place to build her nest. Alison Plevey, dressed in red, also made a mark in another solo as a more aggressive bird. But again there was just no room for the dancers to move and no way for the audience to enjoy Lea’s usually expansive choreography. Naomi Ota’s feathery, trailing installation also got a little lost. It needed space to be seen at its best (some of it had to be hung along a side wall), and space for the dancers to manipulate it effectively. The ending was a bit of a mystery to me. Something was carried onstage in what seemed to be a piece of bark. This moment in the story was performed with great solemnity.

Lea has a great eye for the theatrical and a wonderful capacity to use all kinds of unexpected additions to her shows. But basically she is an artist working in the medium of dance. Dance doesn’t really exist without choreography and if the choreography is compromised in the way it was in InFlight, both by lack of space and by being overshadowed by audio-visual material, the show becomes something else. Perhaps it doesn’t matter? However, I think it does in this case because Lea’s choreography deserves to be seen in a situation that allows it proper range. Whatever were the political needs of performing it at the National Library, it is impossible for me to ignore the fact that Lea did herself, and her four very accomplished dancers, a disservice.

Michelle Potter, 3 June 2013

Featured image: Alison Plevey (foreground) and Liz Lea in a study for InFlight. Photos: © Lorna Sim

Postscript: The photocopied handout/program did little to make me feel better about the show. It contained many of the errors that creep in when one does a cut and paste to a document and then doesn’t check and recheck for extraneous words. It was an unprofessional publication.

For more about the background to the show see ‘Come fly with me’.

Jade Dewi Tyas Tunggal

When I reviewed Mirramu Dance Company’s Morning Star on this website back in March of this year I mentioned Jade Dewi Tyas Tunggal as one of the performers who really stood out for me. That post received comments from two readers commenting on Jade and her qualities as a performer. Well, last week I had the opportunity to speak to Jade for a preview story for The Canberra Times. Opal Vapour opens in Canberra shortly and I was interested especially in talking to Jade about her Javanese heritage and how it feeds into Opal Vapour.

It struck me as we were talking that what I have admired about Jade Dewi Tyas Tunggal’s dancing (such as I have seen to date anyway) is the same quality that I have noticed on those occasions when I have watched Javanese performers. I recall walking into a hotel lobby in Yogyakarta (so long ago that Yogyakarta was still spelt with a ‘Dj’ instead of a ‘Y’) where a woman was singing to the sole accompaniment of a stringed instrument, the rebab. The sound was refined and the singer had such power and dignity coursing through her body. It was impossible not to be totally entranced. Even the large rat that scurried across the lobby could not detract from the mesmerising effect this singer and her musician had.

Jade says she is interested in the idea of embodiment in performance, being present to audiences. This idea is clearly part of her practice and largely the reason why her performances are so captivating, just as that Javanese singer was so powerful.

But Jade also talked about feeling very Australian. Part of the inspiration for Opal Vapour came from the idea of water as a metaphor. She was interested in the idea that water was a life giving force as she watched the Australian drought coming to an end. Water had a power to transform a landscape and she began to think about pouring certain qualities into dance and then pouring them out and inviting other qualities to enter. So the comment that she has ‘an amazing imagination’ is so true.

I can’t wait now to see Opal Vapour, which seems to bring together such a range of influences, including the power and resilience of Jade’s Javanese heritage. Read more in the story in The Canberra Times, including the meaning of the yellow net seen in the image below.

Jade Dewi Tyas Tunggal in 'Opal Vapour'. Photo Paula Van Beek — Jade Dewi Tyas Tunggal in *Opal Vapour*. Photo: © Paula Van Beek

Michelle Potter, 1 June 2013

UPDATE: Here is a link to my review of Opal Vapour published in The Canberra Times on 18 June 2013.

Dance diary. May 2013

Symmetries. The Australian Ballet

Symmetries has come to and gone from Canberra. What a wonderful program it was and people are still talking about it. As a friend said, ‘It had the WOW factor’, and those who missed it are sounding regretful. And I was amused to find Monument alluded to in Ian Warden’s column on the lack of poetry in the Centenary of Canberra celebrations. ‘…the sad fact is we have marked this year almost entirely in prose (with the odd ballet about a building thrown in, of course)’, Warden wrote in The Canberra Times. Such is the instant fame of Monument in Canberra.

Here is the link to a review of Symmetries I wrote for Dance Australia online. Other material, about Monument in particular, is at this link.

Heath Ledger Project

The National Film and Sound Archive now has an update to its Heath Ledger Young Artists Oral History Project website. On this site you will find details of those young artists who have been interviewed to date, including extracts from the interviews in some cases. My interviews with Joseph Chapman [now using the name Joe Chapman] and Josie Wardrope have some lovely footage included.

I am currently negotiating interviews with two recent graduates from NAISDA, which I hope will be added to the archive in the next few months.

Press for May 2013

In addition to articles and reviews relating to the Symmetries program, other press articles in May include a preview of Liz Lea’s InFlight for The Canberra Times, and also for The Canberra Times a profile of choreographer Garry Stewart, which unfortunately was published more as another piece about Monument when in fact it also dealt with G and other aspects of Stewart’s work.

Garry Stewart rehearsing 'Monument' 2013. Photo Lynette Wills — Garry Stewart rehearsing *Monument,* 2013. Photo: © Lynette Wills. Courtesy the Australian Ballet

In addition, some of Australia’s best known contemporary dancers took part in the Dublin Dance Festival in May. The Irish Times published a story about the event in which Jordan Beth Vincent and I had some comments, although it is not available online.

Michelle Potter, 31 May 2013

Scene from 'Monument', Canberra 2013. Photo: Branco Gaica

Garry Stewart’s Monument. The Australian Ballet

The buzz around Canberra is that Monument, Garry Stewart’s new work for the Australian Ballet and the Centenary of Canberra, may well be that elusive item, ‘a great work’. Monument elicits shouts, screams and whistles as the curtain falls. Audiences exit the auditorium agog and, returning for a second viewing, I was filled with anticipation and excitement. Its appeal seems to be universal—young, old, dance fans, those who don’t often go to a dance performance—so many are talking about it.

It also sent me back to Parliament House to take a look at Romaldo Giurgola’s imposing Marble Foyer, which was the inspiration for much of the visual design for Monument. It is indeed an imposing, high-ceilinged space filled with marble columns. But Giurgola has frequently expressed his pleasure that few people look for the lifts to get to the next floor. They climb the marble staircase instead. Despite its imposing qualities it exists on a human scale as well. So too Monument. The formal qualities that define it, its reference to the architectural process, do not alienate. They touch a human nerve.

Parliment House Marble Foyer — The Marble Foyer, Parliament House, Canberra.

I was also able to take a close look at Mary Moore’s body-hugging costumes made from white lycra with a fine black lycra trim. Three costumes, some designs on paper and a selection of rehearsal photographs are on display in a corridor just off the foyer’s central space.

Here is a link to a PDF of my Canberra Times review of the Australian Ballet’s Canberra program, Symmetries, of which Monument is part. I will be writing more about Symmetries, including Monument, for Dance Australia Reviews, coming soon. There is much more to say, especially about how Stewart has constructed and choreographed the work.

The Canberra Times review is also available online with a gallery of images [sadly no longer available—MP 26/06/2016]. The gallery is worth exploring. It gives [gave] some great views of Mary Moore’s costumes and Paul Lawrence-Jennings’ graphics. Although there is no footage, the image gallery also indicates [indicated] the nature of Stewart’s choreographic approach. The images by Karleen Minney were taken at a media call and so are unposed.

Michelle Potter, 25 May 2013

Featured image: Scene from Monument, Canberra 2013. Photo: © Branco Gaica

UPDATE, 28 May: My Dance Australia review is available at this link.

Elise May, 'R & J' Act III. Photo: Chris Herzfeld, Camlight Productions 2012 web

R & J. Expressions Dance Company

14 May 2013, Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre

This is a revised version of a review written for The Canberra Times. In the interests of bringing the outstanding qualities of R & J to the attention of the dance-going public as the show continues its regional tour, I am posting this expanded review now. Publication of the original, shorter review has for unexplained reasons been (apparently) delayed.

I don’t know where the expression ‘the best things come in small packages’ originates, but it is a perfect way of describing Natalie’s Weir’s R & J. Weir has worked with just six dancers (complemented in the opening scene only by a group of local dance students) to create three mini-stories inspired by Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Each story is short—the whole work lasts just 60 minutes with brief pauses in between each act—but each also delivers a powerful message.

Act I is called ‘Passion’ and is set in a disco environment in the present day, hence the need for a few extra dancers. ‘Passion’ is complicated by the presence of a third person, a rival to Romeo, setting up a triangle of love.

Riannon McLean, Jack Ziesing, David Williams, 'R & J' Act I. Photo: Chris-Herzfeld — Riannon McLean, Jack Ziesing, David Williams, *R & J* Act I, Expressions Dance Company. Photo: © Chris Herzfeld, Camlight Productions, 2012

As the work begins we immediately encounter Bruce McKinven’s minimal set, which remains in place throughout the piece. It consists of a collection of white translucent boxes of different sizes: the boxes stand at angles to the floor and are spread across the stage space. The intricacies of their construction are only revealed as each story progresses—they become a table, a tomb, a television, whatever might be required as the stories unfold. McKinven’s simple costumes, always red for Juliet, are also masterly in conveying an era and a mood in a simple yet powerful manner.

Act II is ‘Romance’ and takes us back to the 1800s. ‘Romance’ comes closest to the traditional story and reminds us of the divided families, the balcony and bedroom scenes and the final setting beside the tomb, all of which are well-known from other dance productions. This Act showed David Walters’ lighting design at its best. Throughout, Walters lights the piece evocatively according to the progress of the story but in Act II he surprises us with his lighting of McKinven’s boxes. There are moments when he focuses his light on single boxes that enclose Juliet and separate her from Romeo and, as Act II comes to a conclusion, he lights up the inside of the box that acts as a final tomb.

Samantha Mitchell and Benjamin Chapman, 'R & J' Act II. Photo Chris Herzfeld, Camlight Productions 2012 — Samantha Mitchell and Benjamin Chapman, *R & J* Act II, Expressions Dance Company. Photo: © Chris Herzfeld, Camlight Productions, 2012

Act III is ‘Devotion’ and is set in the 1950s. ‘Devotion’ is perhaps the cleverest of the three stories and shows us a routine of life and love that is interrupted by the inevitability of an end to every union. The dancers’ movements gather speed, without losing any choreographic detail, as the repetitive nature of life becomes apparent. In all three stories the lovers are parted in some way although the endings, I think, are open to interpretation. In Act III, for example, did this 1950s Romeo die? Or did he just leave his Juliet, tired of the never ending routine of work and more work? This open ended approach is part of R & J‘s success as a production that involves us emotionally.

Weir’s choreography has always been distinguished by her ability to create strong duets and R & J is no exception. But just as affecting on this occasion are her trios and solos. I admired in particular the trio in ‘Passion’. It was often quite rough with contact between the participants in the love triangle sharply rather than lyrically defined. Her ability to make six people seem like many more in ‘Romance’ was also impressive. A dance in which Romeo, Juliet and four masked dancers changed partners in a tightly knit group set up an image of the ballroom scene from the well-known, full-length ballet.

Each of the six dancers, three men and three women, had their chance to be a Romeo or a Juliet, and each gave an outstanding, physically gutsy performance. But it was Elise May in ‘Devotion’ who really gave the performance of the night. For a good deal of her time on stage she danced with an arm chair, the chair on which her partner had sat before his exit from her life. Her movement was carefully nuanced and we rode her wave of emotions as she eventually resigned herself to loneliness.

The work was danced to an original, jazz-inspired score by John Babbage, in which the saxophone played a prominent part. When first performed in Brisbane (and also I believe in Adelaide in 2012), the music was played live by the group Topology, of which Babbage is a member. Sadly, this whistle stop regional tour was not able to offer a live performance by the musicians. However, with a dash of colour, a spot of light, a burst of sound and some telling gestures, Weir and her collaborators have created an exquisite and moving small package of love. R & J is a stand-out work that truly deserves the awards it has already won.

An earlier post on R & J is at this link.

Michelle Potter, 18 May 2013

Featured image: Elise May, R & J Act III, Expressions Dance Company. Photo: © Chris Herzfeld, Camlight Productions 2012

Colonel de Basil. Some surprising news

Most of what we know about Colonel Vassily de Basil (Vassily Grigorievitch Voskresensky) concerns his activities as director of variously named companies that toured the world in the 1930s and 1940s. He came to Australia with one of those companies, which is best known as the Original Ballet Russe, on a tour that began in December 1939 and which lasted until September 1940 when the company sailed for the United States.

Little has been written about de Basil’s life prior to his arrival in Paris in 1919. Kathrine Sorley Walker in her invaluable publication De Basil’s Ballets Russes, from which so much further research has developed, provides us with some background. She devotes a chapter to the Colonel and includes a brief account of his exploits as a Cossack officer during World War I.

It was to my astonishment then that I recently had the good fortune to be contacted by Mr Valery Voskresensky, the Colonel’s grandson. Mr Voskresensky, who is seen in the photo below with Tatiana Leskova when they met up recently in Paris, is presently preparing an exhibition on de Basil to be installed in the A.A.Bakhrushin State Central Theatre Museum in Moscow later this year.

Tatiana Leskova and Valery Voskresensky, Paris 2013 — Tatiana Leskova and Valery Voskresensky, Paris 2012

The existence of a grandson (born 1939) was more than a surprise to me but there is definitely a likeness, which Leskova also remarked upon.

Colonel de Basil, Chicago 1930s. Photo: Maurice Seymour. From the collection of the National Library of Australia

I look forward to posting further news in due course.

Michelle Potter, 17 May 2013

Andrew Killian, Lana Jones and Daniel Gaudiello in 'Dyad 1929'. The Australian Ballet, 2013. Photo: © Branco Gaica

Vanguard. The Australian Ballet

11 May 2013 (matinee & evening), Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House (The Four Temperaments, Bella Figura, Dyad 1929)

If this triple bill program from the Australian Ballet did one thing it was to show how far ahead of his time George Balanchine was in 1946 when he made The Four Temperaments.

Although the title, The Four Temperaments, suggests a link to the ancient practice of assigning behavioural characteristics to humans based on the extent to which certain fluids are present in the body, I think this is essentially an abstract ballet. It deconstructs classical ballet vocabulary before the idea of deconstruction in arts practice became a trendy phenomenon. So many of the movements—Balanchine’s different examples of supported pirouettes for example—show by the very act of deconstruction how the vocabulary of ballet is constructed. In addition, Balanchine’s use of turned in feet and legs, forward-thrusting pelvic movements, stabbing movements by the women on pointe, angular shapes made with the arms and palms of the hand, are all beyond what the eye is accustomed to think of as pure, classical movement. But seen within the context of the entire ‘Vanguard’ program, it is clear that similar movements surface in the work of choreographers coming after Balanchine. Such an attitude to the balletic vocabulary is especially noticeable in the choreography for Dyad 1929 made by Wayne McGregor in 2009.

Balanchine made his move in 1946 (at least) and I think the different look Dyad 1929 and others of McGregor’s works have, which is certainly a look more in keeping with the twenty first century, is as much a reflection of technical developments and changes in body shape since 1946 as anything else. The Four Temperaments is really a remarkable work.

The Australian Ballet has been beautifully coached and rehearsed for The Four Temperaments. There was a simple elegance and a clarity of technique in their dancing and they made the choreographic design very clear. At times, however, I wished some parts had been slightly more exaggerated—the movement in the pelvis for example. Balanchine was a showy choreographer at times and I think a little of the showiness that American companies seem to add to The Four Temperaments was missing.

Of the two casts I saw I most admired Daniel Gaudiello in the ‘Melancholic’ variation. I loved his unexpected falls, the theatrical way he threw his arms around his body, his very fluid movement, and his wonderful bend back from the waist as he made his (backwards) exit. I also enjoyed the pert and precise quality Ako Kondo and Chengwu Guo brought to ‘Theme II’ and Juliet Burnett’s languorous and smooth flowing work in ‘Theme III’. Of the corps Dana Stephensen and Brooke Lockett (in different casts) stood out for me in supporting roles in ‘Melancholic’.

Felicia Palanca & Sarah Peace in 'Bella Figura'. Photo: Jeff Busby — Felicia Palanca and Sarah Peace in *Bella Figura*, ca. 2000. Photo: © Jeff Busby. Courtesy the Australian Ballet

Then came Jiri Kylian’s emotive work Bella Figura with its mysterious lighting and half-revealed spaces.

Bella was first performed by the Australian Ballet in 2000 when it had a more than memorable cast, and it has been restaged in the intervening period, again with strong casts. So it is a pleasure to record that one cast I saw on this occasion did not make me think back to other performances. It even opened up for me a new view of the piece. The closing duet, danced in silence by Lana Jones and Daniel Gaudiello, in moody lighting with two braziers burning brightly in the background, was moving, intimate and deeply satisfying. What wonderful rapport these two dancers have and how affecting is their ability to project that rapport so strongly. Jones and Gaudiello were also outstanding in another duet earlier on in the work. I don’t remember such a comic element in that particular duet on previous occasions; this time it bordered on the slapstick. But it was brilliantly done as Jones and Gaudiello managed to retain ‘la bella figura’ in its best sense, while also making us laugh.

After these two works Dyad 1929 looked very thin to me. I have admired recent works by Wayne McGregor including his Chroma, FAR and Live fire exercise, and I was also impressed by Dyad 1929 when it was first shown in Australia in 2009. This time I didn’t get the feeling that the dancers saw any diversity within the work. They all performed the steps very nicely but brought little else. After The Four Temperaments and Bella Figura it was a disappointment, not so much choreographically as in terms of performance.

Michelle Potter, 13 May 2013

Featured image: Andrew Killian, Lana Jones and Daniel Gaudiello in Dyad 1929. The Australian Ballet, 2013. Photo: © Branco Gaica

Colin Peasley. Lifetime Achievement Award

The recipients of 2012 Green Room Awards were announced a few days ago when the Green Room Awards Association also announced the recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award, which is given each year to a person who has contributed significantly to theatre life in Melbourne. The 2012 recipient was Colin Peasley, who retired last year from the Australian Ballet after a long and illustrious performing career, largely but not entirely with the Australian Ballet.

Peasley is seen below in two of the travesty roles for which he became so well-known, on the left as Gamache in a 1970 performance of Rudolf Nureyev’s production of Don Quixote, and on the right in a 1973 performance as the younger Step-Sister in Frederick Ashton’s Cinderella. Both images are by Walter Stringer and are from the National Library’s Walter Stringer collection.

Colin Peasley as Gamache in 'Don Quixote', 1970

Colin Peasley as the younger Ugly Sister in 'Cinderella' 1972

Again from the Stringer material held in the National Library, Peasley is seen below in the more dramatic roles of Friar Laurence in a 1975 performance of John Cranko’s Romeo and Juliet with Marilyn Rowe as Juliet, and of Hilarion in a 1973 performance of Peggy van Praagh’s production of Giselle.

Colin Peasley as Hilarion. Photo Walter Stringer

Closer to the present time, here is a shot from the 2009 production of Graeme Murphy’s Nutcracker in which Peasley played one of Clara the Elder’s émigré friends.

Ai-Gul Gaisina, ‘Nutcracker’ Act 1. Photo: © Branco Gaica, 2009

A tiny glimpse of a diverse career! A well deserved award too.

Michelle Potter, 8 May 2013

Links to National Library image credits:

Colin Peasley as Gamache in Don Quixote, 1970
Colin Peasley as the younger Step-Sister in Cinderella, 1973
Colin Peasley as Friar Laurence in Romeo and Juliet, 1975
Colin Peasley as Hilarion in Giselle, 1973

Natalie Weir on R & J

When I recorded my first ‘On dancing’ segment for ArtSound FM I was not aware that Natalie Weir’s much lauded work R & J, made for her Brisbane-based Expressions Dance Company, was on a whirlwind tour of the eastern states. The tour includes a performance, one only, at the Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre and, had I known, I would have mentioned it as something for dance lovers in Canberra and surrounding regions to anticipate during May. So, as an update to that program I spoke to Weir about R & J and the rigours of one night stands, and about company she now leads.

David Williams and Elise May in 'R & J', Photo: Chris Herzfeld — David Williams and Elise May in *R & J* Act III, Expressions Dance Company. Photo: © Chris Herzfeld/Camlight Productions, 2012

R & J is Weir’s take on the well-known story of Romeo and Juliet. But rather than following one story over an evening-length work, Weir tells three separate love stories each of which takes place in a different era. It begins with a story set in the present day; it flashes back to the 1800s for the second; and the final story comes back to the 1950s. With a cast of just six dancers, a production crew of four and an indispensable truck driver there is not much room for manoeuvring. And yes, Weir agrees that it is a rigorous schedule for all. But, says Weir, when she made the work in 2011 she knew she wanted a work that could be shown at major venues and that could also tour regionally. It is designed so that it can be bumped in and out in a day. And this is mostly what happens on the current seven week regional tour, which takes in eighteen different cities from Hobart in the south to Rockhampton in the north.

Weir was appointed artistic director of Expressions in 2009 and is slowly beginning to realise her unique vision for this small contemporary company. She says the first part of her vision was to build a small ensemble of dancers with whom she could work well and who understood her approach. ‘I have employed dancers straight from tertiary training, dancers who are in their thirties and beyond and dancers in between those age groups’, she says. ‘I wanted a range of ages and maturities in the company. That was an essential’.

The second part of her vision, which she says grew from some of the frustrations she encountered while working as an independent artist, was to have the capacity to commission music specifically for her works. R & J has a score by John Babbage, saxophonist with the Brisbane group Toplogy. Although the R & J regional tour uses recorded music, when the work premiered in Brisbane in 2011 Topology played onstage and having live musicians working in this way is part of Weir’s vision too. Her next work, When time stops, will premiere in Brisbane in September and has a commissioned score from Iain Grandage, which will be played live on stage by members of the chamber orchestra, Camerata of St John’s.

After a long career as an independent choreographer, which has been distinguished by commissions from most Australian ballet and contemporary companies, as well as from international companies including American Ballet Theatre, Houston Ballet and Hong Kong Ballet, Weir has come into her own as director of Expressions.

Michelle Potter, 7 May 2013

R & J is at the Queanbeyan performing Arts Centre on 14 May 2013.

Update 18 May 2013: See my review of the show at this link.