Romeo and Juliet. Queensland Ballet (2025)

21 March 2025. Lyric Theatre, Queensland Performing Arts Centre, Brisbane

Kenneth MacMillan’s Romeo and Juliet is a long ballet—almost three hours (if we include the two intervals between acts). But it is such a strong work by MacMillan, and so magnificently performed by Queensland Ballet in this 2025 presentation, that those three hours just flew by.

The relationship between Romeo (Patricio Revé) and Juliet (Chiara Gonzalez), critical to the success of the work, was carefully developed throughout, whether at their first meeting, or during the now-famous balcony scene, or when engaging in a clandestine marriage, or right at the end when Juliet wakes in the family crypt and discovers that Romeo is dead on the floor beside her bed.

Much of their dancing took the form of pas de deux, a typical MacMillan approach, and MacMillan’s choreographic approach to every pas de deux was thrilling to watch. In particular I loved the detailed movement of the feet and the fluidity of the lifts that often had the bodies leaning in unusual ways.

The moments shared by the three friends, Romeo, Mercutio (Kohei Iwamato) and Benvolio (Joshua Ostermann), was also a highlight, whether joyous moments of friendship: or dramatic occasions involving sword fights; or attempts by Mercutio and Benvolio to keep Romeo’s behaviour safe and sensible. The three harlots, Georgia Swan, Laura Tosar and Vanessa Morelli also danced brilliantly as they engaged with the three friends, as well as with others in the market place. And Vito Bernasconi gave a powerful performance as Tybalt, cousin of Juliet. Such was his acting, as well as his technical performance, that I was involved enough to dislike him (as a character) for getting in the way of the relationship developing between Romeo and Juliet.

I missed a little the powerful input from the Capulet family that usually characterises the ball scene, although it was a pleasure to see Lisa Pavane making a return to the stage as Lady Capulet. But the ball scene lacked, I thought, the drama that I recall from a variety of other performances I have seen, including the 2019 production by Queensland Ballet. But I always enjoy the historical references that the dancing at the ball involves, especially the slight backwards tilt of the bodies as the dances proceed.

My one regret is that the design of the work from Paul Andrews seemed heavy and somewhat cumbersome. The scenes in the market place, a setting that figures prominently through the early part of the work, did not look as though the activities were actually happening in a market place but simply in front of a residence. The building that made up the background was very Italian-looking with its columned passage ways and its long flight of steps leading to the upper areas of the building. But it was darkly coloured and somehow gloomy, and the restricted space it created for dancing, and even the capacity for characters to move around in the upper passageways, was not conducive to interesting activity.

It is, however, pretty much impossible not to be carried along by this MacMillan masterpiece, especially when Queensland Ballet continues to dance so well, and when Nigel Gaynor continues to conduct the Queensland Symphony Orchestra so magnificently.

Michelle Potter, 23 March 2025

Postscript: An interesting discussion of the MacMillan Romeo and Juliet can be found in Jan Parry’s biography of MacMillan, Different Drummer (London: Faber and Faber, 2009) pp. 274 ff. Also interesting to watch via the ROH streaming platform (it needs a subscription) is Romeo and Juliet. The Royal Ballet in Rehearsal. It contains Royal Ballet rehearsal footage and a conversation with Deborah MacMillan, Donald MacLeary, Laura Morera and others regarding aspects of the ballet. It is especially interesting as Laura Morera has been the principal coach for the Queensland Ballet presentation.

Featured image: (l-r) Kohei Iwamoto as Mercutio, Patricio Revé as Romeo, and Joshua Ostermann as Benvolio (with Janette Mulligan as the Nurse). Queensland Ballet, 2025. Photo: © David Kelly

Ausdance Network Submissions. Federal Budget & Child Safety

As I write this an Australian federal budget is shortly to be delivered, just ahead of the 2025 federal election. Leading up to these two events, the Ausdance network has been working hard to bring dance to the attention of various areas of the Australian federal government. Two documents have recently been submitted:

Ausdance Federal Budget Submission: The Ausdance network is calling on the federal government to recognise the vital role dance plays in the nation’s health, economy, and cultural identity by making meaningful investments in the 2025 federal budget.

Read the full submission at this link: 3fef73_c1d02e36fa654ac3a23b062ea005578b.pdf

Ausdance National Office of Child Safety Submission: The national Ausdance network has made a landmark submission for dance to the National Office for Child Safety in response to its Child Safety Annual Reporting Framework consultation paper.

It is not possible to overstate the urgency expressed by Ausdance members to comprehensively address the issue of child safety. The overwhelming response of the dance sector – following substantial consultation over more than four years – is that it should be better regulated so the safety of children in organisations is improved.

The full submission is available at this link: FINAL Advocacy_AusdanceNationalsubmission_National-Office-Child-Safety – Adobe cloud storage

Dance is frequently marginalised, along with other areas of the arts, in government circles (with a few major exceptions and, without wishing to deny the input from others, the impact of former Prime Ministers Gough Whitlam and, later, Paul Keating spring immediately to mind). So it is always a more than commendable matter when efforts are made to promote the potential impact dance can make across a variety of areas of society.

Both Ausdance submissions are in depth approaches to what dance can accomplish for a wide section of the population. My fingers are crossed for a positive approach from those to whom the submissions have been made. So many will benefit, young and old across the many areas identified in the submissions.

Michelle Potter, 21 March 2025

Royal New Zealand Ballet with Scottish Ballet

14 March 2025. St James Theatre, Wellington

What is ballet?

In what was a joint program of four works, two from Royal New Zealand Ballet (RNZB) and two from Scottish Ballet, I imagined there would be some curiosity from audience members (or some people anyway) about the nature of ballet. I certainly was curious. Both companies have the word ‘ballet’ in their name for a start, but the details of the program sounded unusual.

Opening the program was Schachmatt (Checkmate in English translation) from Spanish/international choreographer Cayetano Soto, who was also responsible for the set, costumes and lighting. The work was based, notes tell us, on Soto’s admiration for and interest in the songs of people such as Joan Rivers as well as the choreography of Bob Fosse.

There was an exceptional, short and shadowy opening sequence. It was attention-grabbing and at first some of the dancers towards the back of the group looked almost like shadows rather than people.

Scottish Ballet dancers in the opening section of Cayetano Soto’s *Schachmatt*. Photo: © Andy Ross

But as the lighting became less shadowy, we could see the cast dressed in light blue-grey costumes, wearing black stockings that at first looked like knee-high boots, and with black caps as head gear. They danced often with the pelvis pushed back so the spine never looked straight; with arms often making geometric shapes; and with emphasis on hands often stretched flat; and with fingers twisted and curled. The dancers’ movements were fast and furious and bodies were bent and twisted. It made me think how different the movement was from the technique we assume is balletic. It seemed like a quirky novelty rather than a ballet. In fact the whole thing looked anti-balletic to me, although nothing could take away from a powerful performance from every dancer.

Scottish Ballet dancers in Cayetano Soto’s *Schachmatt.* Photo: © Andy Ross

Schachmatt, which received an exceptional audience response at its conclusion, was a short piece, just 20 or so minutes, and was followed by a brief, spoken introduction from the stage by RNZB’s Artistic Director, Ty King-Wall, who was accompanied onstage by Director of Scottish Ballet, Christopher Hampson, dressed in a Scottish-style kilted outfit.

After thinking constantly during the unfolding of Schachmatt, especially about choreographic expression and its relationship to balletic concepts, it was an exceptional experience to watch the second item on the program, Prismatic from RNZB Choreographer in Residence, Shaun James Kelly. Kelly played with movement without removing so many balletic essentials as seemed to happen in Schachmatt. Kelly’s choreography showed fluidity; detailed interaction between dancers without that interaction being frenzied; smooth and curving shapes from the arms; lifts that were quite spectacular and that demonstrated a remarkable manner of moving through space; and a great use of the stage area, often in unexpected ways.

We were watching a particular choreographic voice, but one that was not removing what makes dance balletic. Prismatic gave me goose bumps and it was a pleasure to watch the dancers performing to an audience, to us. That’s a personalised approach and was not something I got from the first item. To me Prismatic was theatre.

Soloist Kirby Selchow, Artist Ema Takahashi, Principal Ana Gallardo Lobaina, Soloist Jemima Scott in *Prismatic*. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2025. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

After interval we watched another short work, Limerence, this time from Annaliese Macdonald, former dancer with RNZB, now freelancing. Performed to music by Franz Schubert, it was made for four dancers who interacted with each other, displaying different emotions at different times.

The leading role was danced strongly by Joshua Guillemot-Rodgerson but we were never completely sure of exactly where his emotions were directed. What was he thinking? What were the others thinking as well, especially when they were trying to guide him through an event? In fact, a quote from Austrian poet Rainer Maria Rilke was written in the program notes: ‘Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.’ That quote gave a strong indication of the nature of Limerence.

Principal, Joshua Guillemot-Rodgerson and Soloist, Katherine Minor in a moment from *Limerence*. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2025. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Choreographically Limerence had a beautifully strong contemporary feel but it was clearly based on an understanding of balletic technique. The bodies of all four dancers were used as expressive tools to transmit emotions.

The final work Dextera (a play on the word ‘dexterous’) came from Franco-British choreographer Sophie Laplane. It was danced by a large cast to excerpts from various compositions by Mozart. Laplane mentions in program notes that she was interested in ‘portraying the complexity of human nature through dance’ and complexity of movement (large and small, individual and group) was clearly on display.

Red gloves were a feature. In the beginning one fell through the air from the flies. Then dancers entered, all wearing red gloves. Sometimes one set of dancers ripped the gloves away from the group wearing them. The gloves were then ripped back. In the final moments a swathe of gloves fell again from the flies. I am assuming that the gloves referred to the fact that dexterity usually indicates skill involving the hands.

Scottish Ballet dancers in in Sophie Laplane’s *Dextera*. Photo: © Andy Ross

Another feature of Dextera was that red ‘handles’ had been added to some costumes and dancers (mostly the women) were picked up, (mostly by the men) using the handles, and the bodies manipulated in some way.

Choreographically Dextera teetered towards seeming suitable for inclusion in a program by a company with the word ‘ballet’ in its name. It was clearly pushing movement boundaries but, at least to me, the dancers looked like human beings and the choreography looked as though there was a balletic background that was being used in the ‘pushing’. But the work seemed so long, which was not made to feel shorter when many sections of the work appeared not to relate to each other. I was relieved when the work eventually concluded.

The outstanding feature of the program, over all four works, was the strength of the dancing. Whatever movement ideas the choreographers chose to investigate, the dancers rose to the challenge and performed with gusto. And all my congratulations to the staff of both companies for creating a program that put forward a challenge. In fact, as I left the theatre I had the feeling that it would be hard to find a performance that could give rise to so many varying thoughts about the nature of ballet.

.Michelle Potter, 16 March 2025

Featured image: Scottish Ballet dancers in a moment from Sophie Laplane’s Dextera. Photo: © Andy Ross

The Night has a Thousand Eyes. Borderline Arts Ensemble

6 March 2025. Te Auaha, Wellington Fringe Festival

Director, choreographer, performer: Lucy Marinkovich
Composer, pianist: Lucien Johnson
Co-choreographer, performer: Michael Parmenter
Lighting: Martyn Roberts

reviewed by Jennifer Shennan

The Night has a Thousand Eyes is an hour-long work described as a ‘nocturnal dreamscape of movement and mystery’. The first image is of a vast suspended square tent of white muslin, evoking the cloth draped over a baby’s cradle, lit from within, but empty yet. Piano music is gentle, lullaby-like. Soon the dancer moves in amniotic shadow inside the tent, we glimpse a limb, the edge of her torso, her arm gesturing up, then around, and down, the palms of her hands coming forward into focus. There’s a quiet mood of questioning and waiting as the work awakens to this exploration of space and place, and the piano carries us through.

This is Lucy Marinkovich in the first in a series of vignettes shared with Michael Parmenter, mostly solos, occasionally duets, that play with shadows and silhouettes from the dark and into the light that is sourced from side or back or front, with the two dancers’ bodies, especially arms and hands, striking 1, 000 shapes that hint, suggest, tease, whisper and play in the night.

Lucy Marinkovich in a scene from *The Night has a Thousand Eyes*. Borderline Arts Ensemble, 2025. Photo: © Lucien Johnson

Impressions are suggested—to wonder at the beauty of an arm outstretched then curved then dissolved—to hold and embrace an infant, perhaps—keeping silent reverie alone beneath a dark sky that shimmers with 1,000 stars, in no specific place but here. Nights are long but the piano, in Lucien Johnson’s driving score, carries us through.

Parmenter dances alternate sections, he too is a silhouette, then moving and flowing, then held in chiselled positions. He will later be the insomniac out in the night streets of Paris, marking out fragments of old tap dance routines, or flashing a thousand tiny lights onto a dark wall, imagining he’s alone but we are watching. These are film-like dream-like sequences, and still the piano carries us through.

Lucy Marinkovich and Michael Parmenter in a scene from *The Night has a Thousand Eyes*. Borderline Arts Ensemble, 2025. Photo: © Lucien Johnson

The performers are not connected as characters, nor is any specific thematic narrative developed. They move in alternate sequences that build a sympathy and empathy between them as they share the thoughts and things that arrive in the nights—both theirs and ours. A scene comes to seem like a poem, each separate yet belonging together in a selected collection.

The hub of the work is the mesmerising Serpentine Dance reconstructed by Marinkovich after Loie Fuller moving in the earliest stagings of electric light on stage over 100 years ago. Vast swathes of white silk are held aloft with poles to extend the wings into a celestial realm. The carefully chosen moves and curves and swoops bring the silk into its own life, making invisible air now visible, eventually enveloping the dancer, and still the piano carries us through.

So the two dancers, but also the lighting design that in turn brings textiles to life, effectively make a cast of four performers. We cannot take our eyes off any of them.

My wish, although maybe not practical, would have been to see the pianist in low light side-stage, visually holding these vignettes together as indeed the music did throughout.

Jennifer Shennan, 7 March 2025

Featured image: Lucy Marinkovich in a reference to Loie Fuller’s Serpentine Dance. The Night has a Thousand Eyes, Borderline Arts Ensemble, 2025. Photo: © Lucien Johnson

Essor. Yolanda Lowatta

My review of Essor a solo performance from Yolanda Lowatta was published online on 02 March 2025 by CBR CityNews. Read it at this link.. Below is a slightly enlarged version of the review.

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01 March 2025. Gordon Darling Hall, National Portrait Gallery, Canberra

There is much to admire about Essor, a 20-minute solo performance choreographed and danced at the National Portrait Gallery (NPG) by Indigenous performer, Yolanda Lowatta. Lowatta is a member of Canberra’s Australian Dance Party and the Party’s leaders, Alison Plevey and Sara Black, produced Essor, which was commissioned by the NPG.

As has been the case whenever a dance performance has been commissioned by the NPG (and there have been quite a few such commissions over the past several years), Essor was created in response to photographic material currently on display in the Gallery—in this case to Some Lads, a series of portraits by renowned Australian photographer, Tracey Moffatt. The images are of dancers connected with the Aboriginal and Islander Dance Development Centre who had influenced Lowatta in some way and include Russell Page, Graham Blanco, Matthew Doyle, and Gary Lang. The name of the work, Essor, is an Indigenous word meaning ‘thank you’ and the work is Lowatta’s recognition of the impact those lads have had on her.

It was a real pleasure to watch Lowatta’s sense of movement as displayed in her choreography. There was a beautiful overall fluidity in her manner of moving, especially in the arms and upper body. But within this fluidity there were many moments of detail especially in the fingers and in the positions taken by the feet. There were moments, too, when a smile crossed her face suggesting that she was recalling a particular moment in relation to one of her mentors.

Yolanda Lowatta in the Gordon Darling Hall, 2025. Photo: © Creswick Collective

But what was remarkable was the way in which Lowatta referenced different styles of dance, all of which must have influenced her current, personal movement style. Some movements seemed to come straight from the dance style seen in clan performances from Indigenous women; some referenced Western contemporary dance, especially those grounded movements that were interspersed throughout; some, such as the leaps with a leg held in arabesque, were quite balletic.

This stylistic diversity, which never looked jarring or lacking in harmony, was reflected in an exceptional soundscape from Indigenous multi-artist Bindimu. It contained sounds of water; the playing of Indigenous instruments; sounds from nature, including bird calls; human voices; and a range of other audio items. Just as Lowatta’s choreography referenced different dance styles, Bindimu’s soundscape took us, potentially, from venue to venue, that is to a selection of places where dance might been seen.

Bindimu was also responsible for Lowatta’s costume—a dark purple ‘grass’ skirt and top worn over a Western style close fitting pair of black shorts with a separate top. Again, there was a strong reference to more than one aspect of Lowatta’s career.

The work was structured around a circle of audience members, seated on the floor in the centre of the Gordon Darling Hall, with a few regular seats, placed outside the circle, for older people. Lowatta moved this way and that and often traversed the circular space occupied by the seated audience. But as the soundscape came to an end, Lowatta led the audience from the Hall to the Gallery where the Moffatt portraits were hanging. She left us there, after well-deserved and loudly expressed applause, to admire the photographs and, as a result, to reflect further on Essor.

Michelle Potter, 02 March 2025