Voices of Spring. The Royal Ballet

Via the ROH streaming platform

Frederick Ashton was a choreographer who used classical ballet as his medium, which today it is not such a common method of producing a new work, not even within a ballet company (at least not in my mind). This is not a criticism of ballet today and I clearly recall my former ballet teacher, Valrene Tweedie, saying ‘ballet absorbs everything’! To its credit ballet has moved on and continues to do so. But Ashton was a choreographer whose work is thrilling to watch for the manner in which he uses movement that encompasses aspects of ballet that no longer appear to the same extent in today’s choreography.

A recent addition to the ROH streaming platform has been Ashton’s six-or-so minute pas de deux Voices of Spring. Ashton originally made the work, then called Frulingsstimmen, in 1977 for a New Year’s Eve performance of Die Fledermaus as performed by the Royal Opera. It appeared in a ball scene in Act II of the production along with another Ashton inclusion, Explosions-Polka.

Frulingsstimmen was first performed as a dance piece, independent of the opera, in September 1978 under the name Voices of Spring, the English translation of its German title, Frühlingsstimmen. Since then the pas de deux has been part of the Royal Ballet’s repertoire (although it seems to have been performed somewhat infrequently).

The version the company has added to its streaming platform is a performance from 2013 danced by Yuhui Choe and Alexander Campbell. Technically they make Ashton’s demanding choreography look just breathtaking (including his ‘signature’ walking through the air moments). Impressive from both dancers is the line of the body, the fluidity of the arms and indeed the fluidity of the entire body throughout the piece, along with the use of a beautifully stretched neck, especially from Choe, with the head balanced so impressively at the top of the spine.

But more than technical matters, the connection between the two dancers had been exceptionally thought through. Campbell presented Choe to the audience in true balletic tradition, while never forgetting that he was an individual as well. Then there was the absolute joy that coursed through the pas de deux and that reflected so beautifully the music, the Frulingsstimmen waltz from Johann Strauss II.

This pas de deux has been danced by others over the years, all well-known artists. But, from the excerpts available on YouTube,* no one else seems to have captured the nature of the work as Choe and Campbell have done, especially the exceptional fluidity and the inherent joy seen throughout the performance. I was blown away.

Michelle Potter, 9 February 2025

* The YouTube footage available does not include the Choe/Campbell performance, which is only available online via the ROH streaming platform

Featured image: Yuhui Choe and Alexander Campbell in Voices of Spring. The Royal Ballet, 2013. Photo: © Tristram Kenton

Dance diary. January 2025

  • Queensland Ballet. The news is out

Queensland Ballet has announced that its new director, following the retirement of Li Cunxin and the sudden departure of Leanne Benjamin, will be Spanish-born Ivan Gil-Ortega who will take on the role in February this year. Gil-Ortega is a celebrated ballet professional with over 25 years in the field. He has held roles with companies and creatives around the world, and has worked as a principal dancer, assistant director, artistic consultant, freelance rehearsal director, stager, and coach. The media release noted Queensland Ballet’s enthusiasm for the appointment. In part the media release says:

We are thrilled to welcome Ivan to the Queensland Ballet family following a stellar career on stage, in studio and working alongside some of ballet’s leading lights. Throughout the recruitment process, Ivan articulated his vision very clearly with a particular focus on our dancers of today and our dancers of tomorrow, through the work of our Academy.

He is also brimming with ideas around nurturing home-grown talent here in Australia as well as exploring world-stage collaborations and exchanges which will see him leaning into his international peers and networks. Ivan and his family are very much looking forward to calling Queensland home and we cannot wait to see them here very soon, Brett Clark AM, Board Chair said.

Gil-Ortega has worked with Queensland Ballet previously when he assisted Derek Deane on the production of Deane’s much admired Strictly Gershwin. Follow this link to a fuller biography of Gil-Ortega provided by Queensland Ballet.

  • News from Paul Knobloch

For the past several years Paul Knobloch has been the Australian Ballet’s Ballet Repetiteur. Things appear to be changing, however. A recent media release announced that in February Knobloch will be returning to Canberra, where he was born and educated and where he had his initial dance training. He will be working with Jackie Hallahan’s Dance Development Centre (DDC) on a series of events to celebrate the school’s 40th anniversary. The media release states, ‘As DDC gears up to celebrate its monumental 40th anniversary, Knobloch’s involvement promises to elevate the festivities and inspire the next generation of dancers.’

Paul Knobloch. Photographer not identified

I can’t help wondering, however, whether or not Knobloch will return to the Australian Ballet? Here is a link to the media release.

  • Dancing and Fatboy Slim

During January I was sent a Youtube link to some dancing being performed (back in the 1990s) to Fatboy Slim’s song Praise you. I have to admit that I had never heard of Fatboy Slim—not really part of my general interests I’m afraid especially not during the 1990s when I was rather busy with various other matters (mainly watching children growing into adults, writing a PhD thesis, and working in a range of casual jobs).

Here is the footage, which I found to be an interesting variety of community dance. It reminded me a little of an unexpected performance at a wedding of one of my sons (back around the same date as the footage). Quite out of the blue (I thought anyway) the guests assembled and danced in a similar fashion. It was somewhat different from the traditional celebratory wedding waltz!

  • Oral histories

I had the immense pleasure in January of recording an oral history for the National Library of Australia with Megan Connelly, currently director of the Australian Ballet School. As part of the NLA’s COVID responses project, Connelly talked about managing the pandemic at the Australia Ballet and the Australian Ballet School before talking at length about her extraordinary dance career to date.

This interview was the 169th oral history I have recorded for various organisations (mostly the National Library). Here is a link to the updated list of those interviews (arranged alphabetically).

  • Reading in December

My December reading included Barbara Newman’s Striking a Balance. Dancers Talk about Dancing. My edition was published way back in 1992, although the talks were recorded mostly in 1979 and published in the original edition in 1982. I was especially interested in the format since over the past several decades I have recorded oral history interviews with dancers, choreographers and artistic directors. Two of Newman’s essays stood out for me—those with Moira Shearer and Bruce Marks. What made them especially interesting to me was the extensive comments they made about how they approached particular roles. Shearer spoke at length about how she perceived the character of Giselle and where she fitted into the overall storyline of Giselle. Bruce Marks spoke in a similar fashion about Siegfried in Swan Lake. Others also reminisced about particular roles they had taken on but Shearer and Marks seemed, to me at least, to be especially analytical in their thoughts.


  • Vale Carolyn Brown (1927 –2025)

I was deeply saddened to hear that American dancer Carolyn Brown had died in January at the age of 97. Brown had a truly remarkable career with Merce Cunningham Dance Company over many years. But I remember her in particular because she helped me with my doctoral thesis, which concerned the designs made for the Cunningham company by Robert Rauschenberg and Jasper Johns during the 1960s and 1970s. We met for the discussion in New York in a cafe close to Lincoln Center Plaza. Brown was incredibly generous and honest in her recollections of the years of Rauschenberg and Johns.

Never forgotten for many reasons. Try this link for an obituary from The New York Times.

Carolyn Brown: Born 26 September 1927; died 7 January 2025

  • Press for January 2025

 ‘Critics Survey. Michelle Potter’. Dance Australia, January/February/March 2025, pp. 32-33.

Michelle Potter, 31 January 2025

Featured image: Portrait of Ivan Gil-Ortega. Photo: © Karine Grace

Critics’ Survey, 2024. Dance Australia

Dance Australia‘s annual ‘Critics’ Survey’ was published in this year’s first issue (January/February/March 2025). The survey is always a good read with its breadth of coverage and its varied views of the year’s best productions. In addition to my report, headed as ‘Michelle Potter (Canberra and elsewhere)’ on pp. 32-33, critics represented this year are Lisa Lanzi (Adelaide), Denise Richardson (Brisbane), Rhys Ryan (Melbourne), Nina Levy (Perth), and Geraldine Higginson (Sydney).

I began my contribution with some remarks about reviews in general, which I have also addressed elsewhere on this website. Those remarks deal specifically with an issue regarding critics and reviews that I continue to find frustrating and annoying—who can and who can’t review a show according to some involved with a production. I followed up with a general comment about dance in Canberra and I noted that I frequently travel outside of Canberra to see works I otherwise would miss, hence the ‘and elsewhere’ that follows ‘Canberra’ in the heading to my Dance Australia remarks. Finally I chose the show I think outclassed all others (others that I was able to see of course).

I don’t yet have a good quality PDF file of my contribution so I have posted a text version below. An image of a moment from Queensland Ballet’s production of Coco Chanel. The life of a fashion icon was published with my survey remarks and I have used it as the featured image for this post.

Here is the text:

‘I have a major gripe. Twice in 2024 I was offered complimentary tickets to a production but was invited to come and ‘enjoy’ the show but not to write a review. Both productions were in Canberra with one by a Canberra-based organisation. In both cases I did not accept the complimentary ticket with its attached condition. My gripe focuses on the right to decide whether reviews can or cannot be written about specific performances that are open to the public? Who has that right?

I wondered whether there was media manipulation involved on the part of the companies and I turned to what is perhaps my favourite book of collected reviews—Mirrors and Scrims. The Life and Afterlife of Ballet, written by American dance writer and critic Marcia Siegel. Siegel remarks, ‘I see myself as both a demystifyer and a validator, sometimes an interpreter, but not a judge.’ Personally, I stand with Siegel’s concept of a critic being a ‘demystifier’, ‘validator’ and ‘interpreter’ and I make an effort to avoid being judgmental. But I’m not sure that is how those who suggest that I not write about their productions think about reviews. To make the matter even more frustrating, it seems that eventually the Canberra-based organisation relented and gave permission for two other Canberra-based critics to review the show. But the permission was not passed on to me.

Whatever the reasons behind the issue, I am exasperated by the situation. I don’t tell those involved with putting a show together what steps to put in their choreography so why should they tell me what I can or can’t write? An honest review may well contain some criticism. But good reviews have to be honest and there will always be cases where a reviewer will feel the need to suggest there are issues that cause a work to fall short. Such criticism is not meant to be judgmental, but to be of potential benefit both for readers and for those who produce and perform in the shows. Reviews matter. They stand strong against flowery media releases, and they also help to create a history of what is regarded by many as an art form that disappears when a performance finishes. Admittedly twice is not a huge number of times for the situation to have occurred, but it represents a significant movement for the future perhaps?

Dance in Canberra, local dance that is, is largely made for a variety of community groups with the major exception being Alison Plevey’s currently-funded Australian Dance Party. Those community groups are made up of people of a certain age, people from a variety of multicultural backgrounds, people with medical conditions that benefit from access to movement, and a variety of other specific groups. Many community performances by these groups are exceptional and are often, even usually, danced outside the environment of a regular theatre, giving audiences a new perspective on where dance can happen. But in order to see professional productions from Australia’s major companies who rarely bring their work to Canberra, I travel a lot outside the city where I live.

The show that stood out for me during 2024 was Coco Chanel. The life of a fashion icon choreographed by Annabelle Lopez Ochoa and performed in Brisbane by Queensland Ballet,

The work was quite episodic, which is hardly surprising given the extent and changing nature of Chanel’s career. But Lopez Ochoa handled this episodic context with absolute skill. There was never any doubt about what was happening, despite the complexity, and the short duration of each episode. Choreographically her use of the space of the stage was carefully considered as were the groupings she made between dancers as the episodes unfolded. In addition, the collaborative elements, especially Jon Buswell’s lighting design, made Coco Chanel an absolutely brilliant production.

The aspect I especially loved was Lopez Ochoa’s approach to her choreography. It was distinctively individualistic, but emboldened by an understanding of, and belief in, classical ballet as a medium to be pursued. It has been a long time since I sat in a theatre and was completely and utterly absorbed to the extent that somehow I felt I was part of the story.’

MIchelle Potter, 25 January 2025

Featured image: Luke Dimattina (foreground) as Pierre Wertheimer in Coco Chanel. The life of a fashion icon. Queensland Ballet, 2024. Photo: © David Kelly.

All In. Dance Makers Collective

22 January 2025, Parramatta Town Hall, Western Sydney

It is not easy to review All In. To tell the truth, in many decades of performing, teaching and reviewing and writing about dance, I have never really seen anything like it. Not only that, Dance Makers Collective (DMC) is a new organisation for me (even though it is more than 10 years old apparently). Based on Dharug country (Western Sydney), it is a collective-led dance company with a mission to build dance communities and it works with, and between, dance theatre, contemporary dance and social dance. It aims to connect and move people and to destigmatise dance.

Its co-director, Miranda Wheen, is well known in Canberra having performed, with exceptional results, for various Canberra-based groups, including those directed by Elizabeth Dalman and by Liz Lea. My interest in Wheen’s work is what encouraged me to accept the generous invitation to review the latest DMC show.

The show took place in a hall with an unraked floor with two rows of seats around the edges of the space. It began with an Indigenous section led by a remarkable performer singing and using a version of clapsticks (they were quite long) to develop the rhythm of the section. The Indigenous element moved into a second section, which began with a series of connections between the Indigenous dancers and dancers performing Western-style contemporary dance.

The Western section eventually took on a life of its own and, while I found this section somewhat lengthy, the choreography was fast-paced, varied in the groupings that formed and dissolved, and nicely danced by all.

What was for me the most interesting of the following sections began as a Spanish/Flamenco flavoured performance led by a committed artist (Pepa Molina?), whose flamenco skills were clearly exceptional, and who was accompanied by a small number of other dancers also demonstrating Spanish movement. A few minutes into this section, however, the Spanish dancers were joined by a young man dressed all in white, who at first seemed also to be performing Spanish-style movement. But it didn’t take long to realise that he was in fact a proponent of Indian movement. What was totally fascinating was the way he moved his fingers. While they were clearly Indian-style, and exceptionally clear, somehow they blended beautifully with the the leading Spanish dancer whose fingers moved as if playing castanets. Here was a terrific example of the joyous connections between dance forms.

But the culmination of the show really brought home the concept of ‘all in’. The show moved quite suddenly into its finale when the audience (and not just one or two audience members but pretty much the entire audience) rose from their seats and joined the dancers on the floor. Young and old, experienced and not so experienced, all were present moving together. There were some instructions on a screen at the end of the space ‘Go left’, Go right’, ‘Make a circle’, ‘Dance with the person next to you’, and so on. And they did!

Media for the show, which was part of the 2025 Sydney Festival, stated: ‘Dance exists on stages, at weddings, in clubs and at cultural gatherings. Why is it so universal? What are the boundaries between ballet and backyard parties? Can dance build bridges and ignite collective joy?’ Well All In certainly built bridges of various kinds, including between dance styles and between performers and audiences. And seeing the thrills and excitement that permeated the finale, dance clearly can ignite collective joy.

So, apart from the thrill of watching a performance that was mostly an outstanding show in terms of dance technique, what All In showed us is that dance is for everyone and that it exists beyond what might be called a mainstage show. It needs to tour. I can think of a number of Canberra venues in which All In might be presented, notably in Canberra Theatre Centre’s Courtyard Studio Theatre and in Gorman Arts Centre’s Main Hall. Let’s hope!

Michelle Potter, 24 January 2025

All photos: © Anya McKee

Featured image: A moment from the opening scenes of All In. Dance Makers Collective, 2025. Photo: © Anya McKee

As I am not familiar with the company and didn’t really know the names of the various dancers, below is the list of creatives from the online program:
Director & Choreographer Miranda Wheen
Assistant / Rehearsal Director Marnie Palomares
Producer Carl Sciberras
Composer Fiona Hill
Designer Anya McKee
Lighting Designer Benjamin Brockman
Creative Collaborators Vishnu Arunasalam, Azzam Mohamed, Pepa Molina, Peta Strachan
Co-Choreographers & Performers Samuel Beazley, Mitchell Christie, Eliza Cooper, Emma Harrison, Katina Olsen, Melanie Palomares, Emma Riches, Ella Watson-Heath
Co-Choreographers Jana Castillo, Tra Mi Dinh, Sophia Ndaba
Featuring Cameo Performances from Jannawi Dance Clan, Future Makers, Riddim Nation, Las Flamenkas, Pepa Molina, Vishnu Arunasalam, and Majdy and Seraj Jildah
Indian Percussion Pirashanna Thevarajah
DJ Krystel Diola
Music Mix Bob Scott
Additional Choreography (Jannawi Dance Clan) Peta Strachan
Additional Music (Jannawi Dance Clan) Steve Francis (Composer) and Matthew Doyle (Vocals)
Additional Choreography (Las Flamenkas) Pepa Molina
Additional Music (Las Flamenkas) Manuel Barco
Stage Managers Tom Kelly and William Phillips

Yugen. The Royal Ballet

Via the ROH streaming platform

I was really surprised to discover (belatedly) that the Royal Ballet’s repertoire included a work called Yugen, choreographed by Wayne McGregor and presented in 2018. Australians of a certain age will remember Robert Helpmann’s narrative ballet Yugen, which he created for the Australian Ballet in 1965. Helpmann’s Yugen was freely adapted from the Japanese Noh play Hageromo. It told the story of Tsukiyomo the Moon Goddess and, in essence, focused on the outcome of an event one night when Tsukiyomo came down to earth to bathe in a lagoon but had her wings stolen by a local fisherman, Hakuryo, who believed they were rare shells.

Alan Alder as Hakuyro the Fisherman in Robert Helpmann’s Yugen. The Australian Ballet, 1965. Photo: © National Library of Australia/Walter Stringer


‘Yugen’ is a Zen Buddhist term and was defined by Helpmann in program notes to his ballet as ‘the most gracefully refined expression of beauty; beauty which is felt—as the shadow of a cloud momentarily before the moon’.

McGregor’s Yugen couldn’t be more different. His interpretation of the word ‘yugen’ is of course similar to that of Helpmann. In an ‘extra’ to the ROH stream, McGregor says the word means ‘mysterious or profound grace, something that has a mercurial beauty’. But there is no specific narrative line in McGregor’s production, although when watching it one is tempted to create a story in one’s mind as the work progresses. This is especially so with the relationship that seems to evolve between and beyond the leading dancers, Calvin Richardson, Sarah Lamb and Federico Bonelli, along with Joseph Sissens who takes a significant role as the work moves to an end. And also in that ‘extra’ to the stream, McGregor mentions that in his Yugen there is no obvious storyline, but goes on to say that he believes there is no such thing as a non-narrative ballet as audiences tend to imagine their own story (as indeed I did).

Choreographically, whether we see/imagine a narrative or not, McGregor’s work for eleven dancers is quite stunning. Danced to Leonard Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms and presented as part of Bernstein’s centenary celebrations, the work begins dramatically in front of Edmund de Waal’s set of rectangular structures of different heights and depths.

Scene from Yugen showing Edmund de Waal’s set. Photo: © ROH/Andrej Uspenski

From there the work proceeds through duets, solos and other combinations of dancers. A highlight is a solo from Richardson in which he seems to puzzle over his existence or state of being. Sarah Lamb performs McGregor’s demanding movements calmly and with amazing skill and it is such a pleasure seeing her look into the face of Bonelli who partners her through the work. They are clearly connected, emotionally or otherwise.

McGregor’s choreography is filled with exceptionally lyrical movements of the arms and upper body. And, as ever, he uses the space of the stage in unusual and thought-provoking ways. Watching is a moving and often surprising experience. It’s a waiting game too as one waits to see what will happen next in terms of how the body can move. Costumes by Shirin Guild allow McGregor’s diverse and fluid movements to be seen at their best

But perhaps the most deeply involving moments come as the work concludes. In a duet, with no one else on stage, and with the lighting (from Lucy Carter) progressively darkening, Sissens leads Richardson into the blackness. Is it to his death?

Calvin Richardson and Joseph Sissens in a moment from Yugen. Photo: © ROH/Andrej Uspenski

I probably need to relate the choreography of McGregor’s work more closely to the various psalms that are sung during the work. Perhaps another viewing? On this first viewing I am simply enjoying the fascination of two productions called Yugen—both so different in approach to the word, or aesthetic concept, that gave birth to them. And of course I enjoyed the spectacular dancing of the eleven Royal Ballet dancers who performed this second (for me) Yugen.

Michelle Potter, 5 January 2025

Featured image: Sarah Lamb in Wayne McGregor’s Yugen, 2018. Photo: © ROH/Andrej Uspenski


Postscript: McGregor’s Yugen was a co-production with the Dutch National Ballet.