Talking to Martin James … about teaching

For over two decades Martin James had a stellar career as a principal dancer with a range of ballet companies, including Royal New Zealand Ballet, English National Ballet, Deutsche Oper Berlin, and Royal Danish Ballet. When he retired from performing in 2005, with a knighthood from Queen Margrethe II of Denmark for his contribution to Danish ballet, he took up teaching in Copenhagen and was appointed ballet master at Royal Danish Ballet. Teaching then became his main occupation and has continued to be so to the present day. Over the past 18 months or so I have, on occasions, had the pleasure of watching him teach in Canberra, a city he visits on weekends from his current home in Sydney. He now has a number of private pupils in Canberra.

Just recently I sat down with him to ask about his approach to teaching ballet. I was especially interested in the effect that the technique of August Bournonville might have had on his approach, given that Bournonville was a strong part of the early days of Royal New Zealand Ballet and, of course, is embedded in Royal Danish Ballet practices. His response included:

In the Royal Danish Ballet itself we did Bournonville classes. We didn’t do them every day but we did the curriculum. And of course Royal New Zealand Ballet was founded by Poul Gnatt who was a Dane. So I have been given quite a lot of knowledge of the Bournonville technique during my time with those two companies. Today, in most classes I’ll put in a bit of Bournonville, but it won’t be a Bournonville class. It will be integrated into a normal, classical situation. It’s often a challenge for students because Bournonville is hard. We forget that it’s actually a technique on its own. It’s fast and it’s often good to put it into a class because it reminds us of how slow we actually are.

Then we went on to talk about what exactly constitutes good teaching, a subject that is of intense interest to him.

I’m quite passionate about teaching. I think there’s a lot of confusion with the work of some teachers. As a dancer there was nothing worse for me than having teachers, and especially guest teachers, come into a studio with a full company present, pretending that they were the best teachers in the world and making it completely obvious that they were being complex and complicated. All the people who might have been doing shows in the evening thought, ‘Really! Just give us a basic class.’ That happened quite lot and it still happens today. You have to consider what teaching is about. We have to consider who we are working for—is it for ourselves, or for people we are hoping to make better dancers? My performing career is over. I had a good career and I retired on a good note. But I was still doing well and people would say to me sometimes, ‘Don’t you miss it?’ No! For me teaching is the next progression and I’m really, really basic when I teach so we can think about what technique is all about rather than be complicated in our minds. That can cause injuries. That’s my belief.

Martin James teaching in Canberra (left 2022; right 2023). Photos: © Tim Potter

Martin had more to say about injuries and their management.

If we are moving towards becoming a professional, we have to understand what that means physically. As a professional you might be working seven days a week if you are travelling or touring. You never stop. So what I say to young people before they even get to that situation is that when you are very tired you can easily get injured because your mind goes in a different direction. Everything becomes uncoordinated. You can’t do that in a company. You need to concentrate on your technique even if that means moving slowly. You can’t mess it up. You need to understand what your body is doing.

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The above is a very brief selection of what we talked about but it gives an idea of Martin’s approach and his passion for teaching. We might have to wait for a book to learn more about his extraordinary career!

Michelle Potter, 14 August 2023

Featured image (detail): Martin James teaching in Canberra, 2023. Photo: © Tim Potter

Kiku. A short dance film from Itazura Co

11 August 2023. Arc Cinema, National Film and Sound Archive, Canberra

Kiku, a film choreographed and directed by Japanese-Australian artist Natsuko Yonezawa of Itazura Co, had its premiere showing on 11 August to a sold-out, very enthusiastic audience at the National Film and Sound Archive’s Arc Cinema. I was taken aback when I realised the theatre was chock-a-block. I have never seen that theatre so crowded!

Natsuko Yonezawa during the filming of *Kiku*. Photo: © Andrew Sikorski

Kiku was danced by six women aged between 59 and 74—Suzannah Salojarvi, Vilaisan Campbell, Jane Ingall, Anne Embry, Sue Andrews, and Julie (Jules) Rickwood. It set out to examine the notion of ageing and, in particular, the individual journeys of each of the dancers across the decades of their lives. It began with constantly changing groupings of the six dancers in which they linked up with each other in a variety of ways, most often using arms and hands to wrap themselves around each other, or to extend the space each grouping occupied.

Throughout the work, the dancers often held their hands together at the wrist and then, keeping the wrists touching, opened their hands and spread their fingers as if a flower was blooming. The word ‘kiku’ in Japanese means ‘listen’ and/or ‘chrysanthemum’, but perhaps even more relevant in relation to this work is the fact that Yonezawa was inspired not just by the concept of ageing, but by Makoto Azuma, a Japanese flower artist and botanical sculptor. In his work, I discovered, Azuma groups flowers together so that they merge with each other, twisting this way and that. Yonezawa worked in a similar fashion with her dancers.

Following the opening group sections, each dancer had a solo. But following those solos, the dancers began regrouping in various arrangements. I was especially taken by a section that seemed to be in 3D as three groups, each consisting of two dancers, took up positions along a horizontal line in the performing space. The eyes of the audience were able to follow a line to a vanishing point as each group grew smaller along the line. Videographer was Trent Houssenloge and lighting designer was Craig Dear. Both added exceptional effects to the work.

(left) Julie (Jules) Rickwood and (right) Vilaisan Campbell in a scene from *Kiku*. Photos: © Andrew Sikorski

Kiku was danced to a commissioned soundtrack from Rebecca Hilliard sung by members of the ANU Chamber Choir and Luminescence Children’s Choir.

The film was followed by a documentary created in the homes of the six dancers. In this short documentary the dancers explained in words something of their journey through life, and their approach to dance and ageing. The documentary was also beautifully filmed with the occasional look beyond the dancers to items within or outside the homes—two galahs drinking from a birdbath, a close-up of sunflowers, for example. The evening finished with a Q & A session moderated by Marlēné Claudine Radice, a composer and performer who acted as MC throughout the evening.

Despite the documentary and Q & A, which had their interesting moments, it was Kiku the film that was the highlight of the night. It was a stunning creation and one that developed the art of collaboration to an exceptional level.

Michelle Potter, 12 August 2023

Featured image: The six dancers in Kiku. Photo: © Lorna Sim

Miscellaneous matters
Itazura means ‘mischief’ in Japanese. According to Yonezawa, Itazura Co is ‘the home of mischievous performance art’.

Kiku is the last work Natsuko Yonezawa will make in Australia for the moment. She is about to head to London where she will undertake a Master’s degree in Performance: Design and Practice at Central Saint Martins, University of the Arts.

Dance diary. July 2023

Gather. The ‘Meet Up’ performance, Canberra, 10 July 2023

Early in July six youth dance companies met up in Canberra to show recent work and share practice. ‘Meet Up’ is a biennial event produced by QL2 Dance as a means of maintaining national connections between youth companies. The event in 2023 marks its return after a postponement due to the COVID pandemic. Circumstances prevented me from reviewing the evening immediately after the show, so what follows is not a review but simply some comments.

The evening began with a calmly beautiful duet from two First Nations dancers, Jahna Lugnan and Julia Villaflor. Unfortunately, no choreographic credit was given in the printed program but the choreography clearly expressed the idea contained in the title of the piece, Connection.

Then followed six works, one each from Austi (Illawarra Coast, NSW), Stompin (Launceston, Tasmania), Fling (Bega, NSW), QL2 Dance (Canberra, ACT), Catapult (Newcastle, NSW), and Yellow Wheel (Melbourne, Victoria). What struck me more than anything was the significance of the relationship between choreography and the space of the stage. The existence of an understanding of the importance of this relationship varied from piece to piece and, as a result, some creations worked better than others. The highlight of the evening for me was Yellow Wheel’s The Dancing Fever of 1518. Performed by seventeen dancers and choreographed by Kyall Shanks, it certainly filled the stage with full-on movement from dancers representing a diverse range of characters. It completely held one’s attention visually and aurally as well with its background sound of NY Lipps Dries Van Notes 2020 Remix by Soulwax and Nancy Whang.

Dancers from Yellow Wheel in a scene from *The Dancing Fever of 1518. Gather*, Canberra 2023. Photo: © Lorna Sim

Gather was a great opportunity to get a glimpse of youth dance as it exists across the country, and to reflect on the talent that youth companies nurture.

Royal New Zealand Ballet

Following the retirement of Patricia Barker as artistic director of Royal New Zealand Ballet early in 2023, the company is currently in the throes of interviewing candidates who have applied to take on the directorship.

In the meantime, the following comment was made by Martin James, former principal dancer with RNZB (and a host of other companies) who is currently teaching in Australia. His comments are published here with his kind permission:

RNZBallet saw the beginnings of my eventual, major international career, so I’ve everything to be thankful for! I hope that the next direction will welcome the heritage and repertoire of its origins from Poul Gnatt! Change is important and relevant, of course, but inheritance and integrity of one’s company of dancers (of my own country or any country with artistic integrity) is essential, in my belief anyway! Please RNZBallet think hard on your decision for the new direction as it is truly important to bring NZ back (without going backwards of course) to our identity and famous roots!

(left) Martin James and Adrienne Matheson in *Mantodea*, Royal New Zealand Ballet, 1984. Photographer not identified. (right) Martin James teaching in Canberra, 2022. Photo: © Tim Potter

We await the outcome of deliberations on a new direction for Royal New Zealand Ballet.

The future of dance writing

Jill Sykes, AM, one of Australia’s most admired dance writers, announced her retirement from that role late in 2022. She wrote her final review for The Sydney Morning Herald in December 2022. Early the following month, January 2023, she wrote an article, also for The Sydney Morning Herald, about the origins and development of her dance writing and, while the whole article was interesting, I couldn’t help being struck by some of Sykes’ closing remarks. She wrote:

I count myself incredibly fortunate to have been working for newspapers when they had so many more pages to fill. Arts stories and reviews were given generous space and there was the opportunity to cover dance groups big and small. Today, to get a review, they need longer seasons than many impoverished dance groups can afford.*

While this unwillingness to receive reviews for companies whose seasons are short is frustrating, it is worse when newspapers, such as The Canberra Times, decline to publish any material by those with expertise in specific areas of the arts, visual or performing. Anything about the arts for that newspaper will now be written by in-house staff. Those who have been writing for the newspaper, some for decades, have been told their work is no longer required.

But we have to keep going, and not just on social media where comments are mostly limited to short, usually uncritical remarks. It’s not time to stop. The future cannot be without dance reviews, dance articles and the like.

Michelle Potter, 31 July 2023

Featured image: Jahna Lugnan and Julia Villaflor in Connection. Gather, Canberra 2023. Photo: ©Lorna Sim

*The Sydney Morning Herald, 7 January 2023. The article is currently available at this link: https://www.smh.com.au/culture/dance/an-ailing-aunt-and-a-spare-ticket-put-jill-sykes-on-a-magical-path-20221222-p5c8c6.html

Unhinged. The Training Ground

29 July 2023. Erindale Theatre, Canberra

There was a lot to admire about Unhinged, the latest production from The Training Ground, a Canberra-based group designed to give advanced contemporary dance students from the region the opportunity to prepare for tertiary and/or pre-professional dance courses. Most obviously, the dancers were absolutely brilliant when dancing together. Great coaching of course but how stunning it was to watch the beautiful manner in which they danced as one when unison was required. Not only that, their hair and make-up were impeccable and gave them such a professional look, and one that fitted well with the characters they represented (dolls in most cases).

The second outstanding production feature was the film that so often took on the role of a background set. Created by Trent Houssenloge and Chris Curran of Cowboy Hat Films, the film component was at times a fluid, abstract image, but at other times it was a 3D creation that seemed to set the dancing in a space beyond the stage. At times the setting was an outdoor venue, at others an inside view of an artist’s studio or factory. A wonderful addition to the production.

Unhinged was inspired by the well-known ballet Coppélia but, as is the way of Bonnie Neate and Suzi Piani who direct The Training Ground, the familiar story was given a new slant. The main characters, Swanhilda (Alice Collins); Franz (Joshua Walsh); Coppélia, a doll who is brought to life (Larina Bagic); and Dr Coppélius, a doll maker (Imogen Addison); remained in the new story, which centred on the fact that Swanhilda was enraged by Franz’s attention to Coppélia. Swanhilda was, apparently, the ‘unhinged’ character. The relationships between the characters developed and changed over the course of the production and the whole ended in a somewhat surprising manner with a destructive fire, although the work continued for several minutes after that.

Unfortunately, I have to say that for me the story did not unfold as strongly as was needed for the rage of Swanhilda (usually Swanilda—no ‘h’ in the spelling of the name in the traditional ballet) to be really noticeable. Nor was it really clear who Franz was in the town in which he lived. In fact, none of the main characters held the stage, that is acted, in a way that gave any real strength to their characters, despite the unison dancing and the make-up and hair styles. So, it was just as well that the work had a powerful visual element to enjoy.

The Training Ground is an excellent initiative, especially given that there is an aim there to keep dancers in Canberra if possible rather than have them go elsewhere to pursue a career. But I wonder if it would not be more advisable to make brand new works rather than aim to give a different slant on a well-known ballet? Romeo and Juliet worked well as the 2022 production but Coppélia is a different ballet, not as widely known as R & J, not so emotionally human perhaps, and maybe therefore one that does not lend itself so well to new slants? Perhaps a dramaturg would have been a useful addition to the production?

Michelle Potter, 30 July 2023

Photos: © ES Fotografi

Bespoke, 2023. Queensland Ballet

27 July 2023. Talbot Theatre, Thomas Dixon Centre, Brisbane

It would be hard to find a performance more thrilling, more emotionally driven, more technically fascinating than the sixth production from Queensland Ballet under the banner Bespoke. Made up of works from Remi Wörtmeyer, Paul Boyd and Natalie Weir, this program was rightly advertised as ‘compelling, challenging and always thought provoking’.

The evening began with Wörtmeyer’s Miroirs (Mirrors in French) danced by 10 dancers to piano music of the same name by Maurice Ravel. It was played onstage on this occasion by Daniel Le. Choreographically, Miroirs was an interesting combination of classical vocabulary and more contemporary style movement. The classical sections were nicely structured in a spatial sense with dancers creating a range of unexpected groupings. On the whole it was a relatively fast-paced work and often surprising in the strong imagery that emerged from partnering.

Scene from *Miroirs*. Queensland Ballet, 2023. Photo: © David Kelly

The more contemporary movement was often quite grounded and for me these sections didn’t work so well, or at least didn’t blend easily with the more classically-based sections. The work ended with a pas de deux danced by Mia Heathcote and Victor Estévez. It was a quiet ending compared with the speed and action of the first and much longer section and, despite excellent dancing from Heathcote and Estévez, the ending felt somewhat out of place.

Wörtmeyer was responsible for the attractive costumes and set design. His set consisted of nicely arranged strings of light and reminded me of a deconstructed chandelier. His costumes were simple, close-fitting tights and tops but were made elegant with the addition of small, silver decorative elements at the waist and elsewhere on the costumes.

Second on the program was Tartan choreographed by Paul Boyd to an assorted collection of sound, from a rendition of Donald where’s your trousers? to music from the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards! The work tells the story of an elderly Scottish gentleman, played by former Queensland Ballet dancer Graeme Collins, who relives his past and imagines the people he grew up with return to his house and interact once more with him.

Graeme Collins (centre) in *Tartan*. Queensland Ballet, 2023. Photo: © David Kelly

Tartan was choreographed in spectacular fashion to combine traditional Scottish steps with ballet and contemporary movement. I especially loved the way Boyd often combined, or intertwined, two varieties of fifth position of the arms, one strictly classical, one with fingers held in a Scottish manner. But here was much more than that, including the bends of the body in a reverence with torso stretched forward and spine parallel to the floor; pointe work for the girls on occasions; lots of pliés in second position; the fast, definitive moves of the feet close to the ankles; and so on. Then there were the surprising moments when the dancers appeared (like ghosts?) from under and inside a box-like table to the hilarious scene, led by Josh Fagan, accompanying Donald where’s your trousers?

Jette Parker Young Artists (centre Josh Fagan) in ‘Donald Where’s your trousers’ from *Tartan*. Queensland Ballet, 2023. Photo: © David Kelly

The dancers, all from Queensland Ballet’s Jette Parker Young Artist Program, performed with huge commitment and skill. Apart from their actual technique I loved the way they projected their presence out to the audience. It was an absolute joy to watch them and, If their performance is anything to go by, the future of Queensland Ballet is assured.

Natalie Weir’s Four last songs closed the program and, for me at least, it was the highlight. I have long admired Weir’s choreography, on the one hand for the emotive qualities with which her works are always imbued—We who are left made for Queensland Ballet in 2016 (restaged 2022) instantly springs to mind—but also for the way in which she has always used partnering to display choreographic possibilities. Both those qualities were apparent to an exceptional degree in Four last songs.

Weir’s Four last songs used the composition of the same name by Richard Strauss to tell a story about life and death with a strong sense of a life that is lived to the full before, inevitably, death arrives. The work was led by Lucy Green and Patricio Revé and I admired the way Weir had set choreography in the early stages that was joyful—Green’s little skipping-like movements shorty after her first entrance for example—but which gave way to something slower as age progressed. The work concluded with strong movement that was actually beautifully uplifting as the inevitability of the end of life was accepted.

The work of Green and Revé was mirrored by four couples representing, on the surface, four seasons, but those seasons also reflected four stages of life. The dancing of the four couples showed Weir’s long standing interest in partnering and ranged from beautifully swirling lifts to slower, less extravagant but still quite spectacular ones as life progressed. As for the four men, Weir tells us in her notes that they represent ‘one man, a thread of humanity’. There was one stage when the four men held sway with a magnificent series of entrances and exits interspersed with spectacular jumps. It was extraordinary dancing from all the dancers.

(left) Lina Kim and Callum Mackie and (right) Joshua Ostermann in Four last songs. Photos: © David Kelly

I have often wondered how Weir manages to imbue her work with the emotion that we always feel when watching it. It is of course partly the dancers’ ability and the coaching they receive to act out the scenario. But it is also Weir’s choreographic ability to create movement that tells the story. Those little early skipping movements from Green, for example. Then there were those beautiful swirling lifts that told so much about life, including the lifts performed by Callum Mackie and Lina Kim who performed as Autumn or a late stage of life in which more sleep was apparent. Kim’s body was often held parallel to the ground as if her body was still sleeping while being lifted. And more. Four last songs was a stunning work from Weir.

Bespoke 2023 was a triumph.

Michelle Potter, 29 July 2023

Featured image: Lucy Green and Patricio Revé in Four last songs. Photo: © David Kelly

Yuldea. Bangarra Dance Theatre

20 July 2023. Canberra Theatre, Canberra Theatre Centre

With Yuldea, Bangarra Dance Theatre’s first production under the artistic directorship of Frances Rings, the company continues to present work that examines the experiences that Australia’s First Nations people have lived through. As Rings has written in the ‘Welcome’ section of the Yuldea program, ‘Yuldea reflects the truth-telling of the Indigenous experience in Australia and reminds us that there are two stories to the making of this country.’ The ‘two stories’ angle has been an outstanding feature of Bangarra productions since its inception and has contributed to the admiration audiences have had for the company over the years.

Yuldea is in four parts, ‘Supernova’, ‘Kapi (Water)’, ‘Empire’ and ‘Ooldea Spirit’. It tells the story of the Aṉangu people of the Great Victorian Desert and the Nunga of the Far West Region of South Australia. It focuses especially on the traditional cultural activities of the people of the regions, on the effects of colonisation including the building of the Trans-Australian Railway, and on the ability of traditional culture to survive. The title of the work, Yuldea, refers to a ‘soak’ or waterhole seen as an ‘epicentre of traditional life’.

Scene from ‘Empire’ in *Yuldea* referencing the building of the Trans-Australian Railway. Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2023. Photo: © Kate Longley

Choreographically, Yuldea presented the Bangarra style that has become familiar over the course of the company’s existence—the grounded movement, the turned up feet with legs bent sharply from the knee, tightly structured and strongly held group poses, bodies held upside down or at unusual angles in partnering moves, and so forth. But there were times in Yuldea when I was struck by the existence of moments that seemed based on ballet, both in some less grounded movement and recognisable balletic steps, and in the way the movement was structured in groupings that were less random in appearance and often performed in unison. It seemed a little like another version of the ‘two story’ angle.

Yuldea was beautifully danced by the whole company with a standout performance from Lillian Banks and Kallum Goolagong in an early duet.

Scene from *Yuldea*. Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2023. Photo: © Daniel Boud

Yuldea continued the collaborative style of production that has characterised Bangarra presentations for decades. Jennifer Irwin’s costumes were as stunning as ever. Her use of fabric and layering of material, and the cut of her costumes that allows the costume to move freely (as if performing its own dance) were there in spades, as was her admirable addition of decorative items, including feathers, to various parts of the costume.

In terms of set design, Elizabeth Gadsby gave us something different from what we have seen from former resident designer Jacob Nash, who has now moved on to other activities. For me, Gadsby’s set was akin to a kind of architectural minimalism. It consisted of a semi-circular arrangement of ‘ceiling’ to floor strips of material (not sure what they were actually made from) through which the dancers made entrances and exits, and a semi-circular white item that hung in the air in front of the strips of material. The semi-circular shape of both items perhaps represented the shape of a waterhole? I’m not sure. Perhaps the white structure was the serpent, the ‘Steel Snake’ of the railway? The set, especially the strips of material, might have played a functional role but for me the set as a whole lacked a certain artistic vision and the thrill that such vision gives to audiences.

Music came from Leon Rodgers, the recipient of the 2021 David Page Fellowship, and Electric Fields. Lighting was by Karen Norris and there was in-depth cultural consultation with a range of people and groups.

Like most productions from Bangarra, especially those made over the last decade or so, Yuldea is a complex work and asks us to continue to think about many aspects of Australian life. Bangarra will, I feel sure, continue to be one of Australia’s foremost dance companies as it moves ahead with Frances Rings as its artistic director.

Michelle Potter, 23 July 2023

Featured image: Lillian Banks and Kallum Goolagong in ‘Kapi (Water)’ from Yuldea. Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2023. Photo: © Kate Longley

Ruth Osborne. News from QL2 Dance

A surprise announcement arrived in my inbox today. Ruth Osborne, currently artistic director of QL2 Dance, Canberra’s youth dance organisation, is stepping down from the role she has held for 25 years. The transition to a new chapter for QL2 Dance will be made over a 12 month period and at the end of that time the organisation will be led by Alice Lee Holland.

Osborne’s career to date has been diverse and quite extraordinary. Below are the first two paragraphs of an article I wrote about Osborne at the end of 2016, just before she was about to take up a Churchill Fellowship. Then follows a link to the whole article, which was published in The Canberra Times in December 2016.

Canberra youth dance pioneer Ruth Osborne to continue her work with Churchill Fellowship

Michelle Potter, The Canberra Times, 17 December 2016

Ruth Osborne has been setting up and facilitating dance projects for the young people of Canberra since 1999. It was then that she was invited to come to Canberra from Perth to set up the Quantum Leap Youth Program for the Australian Choreographic Centre at Gorman House. Osborne had had an extraordinarily diverse dance career in Perth, involving teaching, directing and choreography across a range of institutions. She was also a founding board member and artistic director of STEPS Youth Dance Company for 10 years.

As we sit in the beautifully green and cool courtyard of Gorman House, Osborne talks of her experience in Perth. ‘When I started working with young people in Perth, I could see the benefits of bringing them together from different places, not just from one dance school,’ she says. ‘It was about opening up minds; attracting boys into dance, and youth programs were a great way of doing that; and looking at who were our artists, and how young people might benefit from their input. The move to Canberra was an exciting prospect as it gave me the opportunity to work full-time with young people.’

Read the full article at this link.

Since the Churchill experience Osborne has continued, unrelentingly, her extraordinary work with young dancers in Canberra and surrounding regions. A very recent activity was a collaboration with James Batchelor, a former Quantum Leaper and now an acclaimed professional dancer and choreographer, on the transmission of dance from artist to artist. It resulted in a work called Shortcuts to Familiar Places. Read more about it at this link.

The official announcement from QL2 Dance is at this link.

Michelle Potter, 20 July 2023

Lucie in the Sky. Australasian Dance Collective

15 July 2023 (matinee performance). Playhouse, Canberra Theatre Centre

The Canberra season of Lucie in the Sky from the Brisbane-based Australasian Dance Collective (ADC) was performed as part of Uncharted Territory, a new Canberra festival. The festival set out to investigate connections between technology and the arts, and the limitless possibilities of such connections. As an exploration of dance and drones, or dance with drones, and featuring six dancers and five drones, Lucie in the Sky, was perfectly suited to explore this connective idea.

Perhaps the first thing to say is that I was taken by surprise by the size of the drones. They were tiny. We in Canberra have had a certain amount of publicity (not always positive) about drones, the larger kind delivering coffee to people’s yards! The drones that entertained us in Lucie in the Sky were like insects that lit up the space and moved around it, and did so in a variety of often mysterious ways. They had names and personalities and were programmed to engage with the dancers (or vice versa) in different ways. They were ‘indoor drones’.

I especially enjoyed Lilly King whose dancing with a little drone lit blue seemed filled with emotion and care for the connection.

Lilly King and drone in *Lucie In the Sky*. Australasian Dance Collective, 2023. Photo: © David Kelly

Other sections were more boisterous but equally engaging.

Harrison Elliott and drone in *Lucie In the Sky*. Australasian Dance Collective, 2023. Photo: © David Kelly

Before the curtain went up Amy Hollingsworth, artistic director of ADC, gave a short introductory talk about the various personalities of the drones and program notes listed the drones by name—one of whom, Lucie, gave her name to the show. But to tell the truth I was never sure which of the five drones was Lucie. I was unable to be accommodated on opening night (for reasons that I found extremely frustrating) so missed what was apparently a post performance discussion with some ADC personnel, which may have made things clearer. Who knows?

From a dance point of view (human dance that is), the standout performer was Harrison Elliott whose technique, including some hugely athletic jumps, was breathtaking. A significant amount of the dancing occurred between individual dancers and individual drones but there were moments of group dancing. I would have liked more.

Artists of Australasian Dance Collective in *Lucie in the Sky*, 2023. Photo: © David Kelly

Lucie in the Sky was performed to a score by Wil Hughes who was also responsible for the sound design. At times the score was very loud and I wondered whether this was in order to cover up the noise of the drones? They seemed to be moving silently across the space. Costumes by Harriet Oxley had, on one level, an overall simplicity—trousers and a top, one colour for all dancers—but they were filled with individual detail that was often surprising and always quite beautiful. Lighting by Alexander Berlage was suitably atmospheric and changeable, although sometimes very dark. While Amy Hollingsworth and the dancers were responsible for the human choreography, the drone choreography was created by the Swiss company, Verity Studios.

Lucie in the Sky was a monumental undertaking and, given the potential for drones to take off on their own pathway (I imagine) despite programming, which didn’t happen (at least not obviously), the show was a highly successful exploration and a fascinating collaboration.

Michelle Potter, 18 July 2023

Stars in 3D. The Chamaeleon Collective

15 July 2023. Gorman Arts Centre, Canberra

Stars in 3D was yet another innovative program directed by Liz Lea and, as we have come to expect from Lea, it bridged barriers in so many ways. It was performed by Lea’s recently established inclusive dance group, Chamaeleon Collective, and was part of a new Canberra arts and innovation festival, Uncharted Territory. It was made in collaboration with two academics working in the field of Astronomy, Professor Susan Scott and Dr Brad Tucker from the Australian National University, with input from the Australian Research Council’s ASTRO 3D Centre, and supported by Recovery VR and QL2 Dance.

Stars in 3D was preceded by a talk and discussion with Scott and Tucker, which gave us a background to how Lea’s work was constructed and visually presented. Her program notes tell us that it is ‘A celebration of the Universe, from chromosomes to mapping the galaxy.’

The performing space, the QL2 black box area in Gorman Arts Centre, was an immersive space with three walls being used for the projection of images of a variety of matter from space. The images, and they were quite extraordinary shots, surrounded the dancers throughout the evening and often had words of explanation superimposed on them.

The work began with a solo from Jareen Wee who had been brought up from Melbourne as a guest artist with the Collective. With her beautifully fluid technique and expressive body she was the standout dancer of the evening and her opening dance recalled a solo she performed in Lea’s 2021 work The Point.

A highlight was the duet between Lea herself and Katie Senior, a dancer living with Down Syndrome, in which Senior’s thoughts on her life and activities were discussed through dance, communication, and film. This duet also looked back, this time to a work Lea and Senior made together in 2017 called That extra ‘some. It did, however, take on a new perspective within the context of Stars in 3D and had been extended, I think, with some extra film (there was film there that I don’t remember from the 2017 performance!). Perhaps I am wrong on that point but it was a special, and different experience to see it this time.

Surrounding the Katie Senior/Liz Lea duet there was a variety of dancing from the Collective, with dancers dressed sometimes in appropriately starry, glittering costumes as they promoted and simulated the astronomical discoveries that we heard about in the pre-show lecture.

In a brief interlude towards the end of the evening, Lea explained to us how to use the VR glasses we were given at the start of the show. For those who were able to get the glasses working using links on their mobile phone, some films in 3D were available to watch. (Don’t ask!)

All in all Stars in 3D was an unusual night, full of new experiences complemented by a diverse range of dancing, and filled with incredible images of a world beyond what we know well. Dance and science—a long-standing theme for Lea since she arrived in Canberra.

On a concluding note, for some time I wondered why the name of the group was Chamaeleon Collective, with that second ‘a’ in the spelling of the word. I was used to the word chameleon, the name of a lizard family known for its range of colours and ability to change colour and brightness. So why was there an extra ‘a’ in the name of the group? Eventually I asked Google and it turns out that Chamaeleon is the name of a small constellation in the deep southern sky named after the lizard family. The lizard family is sometimes spelled with that ‘a’ in there and its scientific name has the ‘a’ as well. So things became a little clearer and, all things considered, the spelling Lea uses is especially appropriate in the context of Stars in 3D given its connection with investigations into the nature of the universe.

Michelle Potter, 16 July 2023

Jewels. The Australian Ballet

Digital screening, July 2023 (filmed on 6 July during the Melbourne season of Jewels)

Given my reaction, or lack of a reaction for the most part, to the live performance of Jewels I saw in Sydney, I paid my subscription to watch the work streamed during a performance in the Melbourne follow-up season. I was hoping of course to feel differently. But I was again disappointed, not by the dancing—the Australian Ballet is in great form—but by the gushing praise and exaggerated enthusiasm for what seems to me to be a work that is showing its age in so many instances. I continue to think, as I did on my previous viewing in Sydney, that the way Balanchine groups the corps de ballet, at least in Jewels, has had its day. We have moved on in terms of grouping dancers on stage in the way that Balanchine admired, which is often somewhat statically or in an obvious geometric and stage-centred fashion.

But also I think that Jewels presents stereotypical views of French, American and Russian dance and society. Again we have moved on and there is more to France and its culture than perfume, haute couture, romance and other such items mentioned in discussions of ‘Emeralds’ for example. Then, I don’t really like dance being used to tell me that Americans are sassy, brash and cocky when not everyone is like that. It all reminds me a bit of the much-discussed way other cultures were used in some still-performed 19th century ballets. There is nothing of the racist or other unpleasant aspects of stereotyping in the case of Jewels, but we have just moved on. ‘Diamonds’ is more interesting in many respects because no one seems to relate it to characteristics of the Russian people and their culture but to how ballet developed in Russia. So there seems to be a difference in how we are meant to see the three sections, which adds to my problems with the work.

Quite honestly, I wish that various outlets would desist from raving on about Jewels rather than seeing it as a moment in a wider Balanchine repertoire. Some of the choreography is startling and more than interesting to see, but do we really need to call it a masterpiece? In my opinion, it is better seen as an historic work from the 1960s.

Despite the above, I did admire some particular dancers whom I didn’t see in Sydney. In ‘Rubies’ Isobelle Dashwood as the solo dancer was stunning. What a great dancer’s body she has—slender, tall and long-limbed, she is actually a perfect Balanchine dancer. What was so impressive though was the charisma she exuded at every moment. And she didn’t overplay the sassy bit but rather just danced the choreography and presented it beautifully to the audience. Someone to watch for sure.

Also in ‘Rubies’ I enjoyed the work of Brett Chynoweth as the leading male dancer, joining Ako Kondo in the pas de deux sections. Chynoweth threw himself into the choreography with gusto. Every gesture, every step was exciting to watch in its attention to shape and detail.

It was a pleasure too to see Sharni Spencer and Callum Linnane as the leading dancers in ‘Emeralds’. I admired their dancing in Sydney as the leading dancers in ‘Diamonds’ and the same beautiful connection between them was on show in ‘Emeralds’. Perhaps especially noticeable in ‘Emeralds’ was the detail, so in tune with the music, that they brought to every single movement. A terrific partnership again.

left) Isobelle Dashwood in ‘Rubies’ from *Jewels*. The Australian Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Christopher Rodgers-Wilson; (right) Sharni Spencer and Callum Linnane in ‘Emeralds’ from *Jewels*. The Australian Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Rainee Lantry

Another highlight was Duncan Salton’s rendition of the piano sections of the music to which ‘Rubies’ was danced, Stravinsky’s Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra. Exciting listening.

Michelle Potter, 15 July 2023

Featured image: Sharni Spencer and Callum Linnane in ‘Emeralds’ from Jewels. The Australian Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Rainee Lantry