Requiem. The Royal Ballet (2024)

Via the ROH streaming platform

After watching, and being blown away by the film Cranko, I was inspired to look further in an effort to expand my understanding of the background to John Cranko’s career with Stuttgart Ballet. I found on the Royal Opera House streaming platform a 2024 production of Requiem, a ballet created for Stuttgart Ballet in 1976 as ‘a portrait of a ballet company coming to terms with the loss of its beloved leader’. That leader was, of course, John Cranko and the work, which first reached the stage three years after Cranko’s death in 1973, was choreographed by Kenneth MacMillan and set to Gabriel Fauré’s choral work Requiem.

The work has an interesting early history. MacMillan intended it for the Royal Ballet but his choice of music was vetoed by the Royal Opera House board of governors. Some board members did not approve of the use of the Fauré’s music, There was a feeling that its use might offend the religious sensibilities of some patrons. Marcia Haydée, then artistic director of Stuttgart Ballet, had no issues with MacMillan’s choice of music and the work was created in Stuttgart. It eventually entered the repertoire of the Royal Ballet in 1983.

I was incredibly moved by the opening moments when the cast entered from upstage, Prompt side, as a tightly knit group, moving with tiny steps while clenching their hands in what appeared to be frustration then opening their hands and arms expansively, while at the same time opening their mouths as if screaming. There before us was a group represented as one but with each and every person uttering their sorrow.

Then followed several separate sections according to the various movements of the Fauré composition, which Fauré himself described (apparently) as ‘dominated from beginning to end by a very human feeling of faith in eternal rest’. The choral input to the production came from the Royal Opera Extra Chorus. Other creative input included design from Yolanda Sonnabend (with later input from Peter Farley) and lighting by John B. Read.

Groupings of dancers featured throughout and, media tells us, many of the images created were inspired by the art work of William Blake.

An image from the sixth movement of *Requiem*. Image from the ROH stream page. Photographer not identified (a still?)

But beyond the stunning group work there were sections where the soloists on this occasion— Sarah Lamb, Melissa Hamilton, William Bracewell, Josef Sissens and Lukas Brændsrød—performed alone or together in pas de deux and other small combinations. Exceptionally enthralling was a solo by a sparingly costumed William Bracewell in the second movement. It was pretty much a perfect display both of his amazing technical skill and his ability to project emotion through that technique. It also showed just beautifully MacMillan’s choreographic emphasis on filling the space around the body.

William Bracewell in *Requiem*. From a Facebook page.

Sarah Lamb and Melissa Hamilton had some engrossing solos in the fourth and fifth movements and it was moving to watch the choreography so often changing from tightly held, almost crumpled poses to expansive movements. Thus did MacMillan’s choreography show changing emotions from despair to acceptance. The finale was yet another moving part of the work with the stage space showing a circle of light mid stage with the dancers moving into the light and showing some kind of acceptance, perhaps of a new stage in their and Cranko’s existence.

A masterly production from Macmillan and so beautifully performed by the Royal Ballet.

Michelle Potter, 10 June 2025

Featured image: An image from the ROH stream webpage for Requiem. Photographer not identified (a still?)

Illume. Bangarra Dance Theatre

4 June 2025. Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House

Bangarra’s latest production is nothing short of a visual feast with its lighting design from Damien Cooper standing out in an exceptional way. In particular, the starry opening scene, which extended from the stage up and out to the ceiling and walls of the Joan Sutherland Theatre, and the closing scenes where the colour scheme became more varied, stood out.

A moment towards the end of *Illume*. Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2025. Photo: © Daniel Boud

What also stood out was that Illume seemed more abstract than most of Bangarra’s previous productions. Although Frances Rings, in her onstage welcome speech before the curtain went up, gave us some clues as to content, it was not always easy to situate the work within a storyline. While a storyline is not necessarily needed, the production was advertised as referring to aspects of the history and nature of a particular First Nations group from the Dampier Peninsula in Western Australia, which I mentioned in my Dance Diary post for May. (In which I also mention the role of Darrell Sibosado as artistic and cultural collaborator).

In addition to the opening speech from Rings, reading through the program for Illume some visual aspects of the production made more sense in that writing than was clear simply from their onstage appearance. The red glove that unexpectedly appeared on some dancers’ arms at various time referred, I assumed, to the ‘deep red of the pindan soil’ of the area, as did other red elements that appeared on and off, including as part of the lighting design. Perhaps? And similarly, the structures that made up the basis of Charles Davis’ set perhaps referred to the manawan trees with their blackened trunks, mentioned by Rings and in the program.

Courtney Radford (centre) and Bangarra Dancers in *Illume*. Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2025. Photo: © Daniel Boud

As part of the lighting design, and appearing in unexpected places, there were also words arranged in geometric-styles, which I didn’t quite understand. Were they some kind of totemic aspect of the culture perhaps? It would have been advantageous if cultural aspects that were part of the concept behind the show were easier to identify from the production itself rather than largely from the spoken or written word. Or not at all.

Geometric patterns in Illume. Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2025. Photo: © Daniel Boud

Choreographically, Rings as usual used groupings of dancers to particular effect and the dancers, many of whom are relative newcomers to the company, performed with extraordinary skill.

A grouping of dancers in *Illume*. Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2025. Photo: © Daniel Boud

Another highlight was the way in which the work was a multi-media production in which choreography and design worked smoothly together (even if I didn’t always understand what concepts were being presented).

Costumes from Elizabeth Gadsby were varied, sometimes plain in design and colour, sometimes more intricate, but always arresting. Music was composed by Brendon Boney.

Courtney Radford in a moment from *Illume*. Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2025. Photo: © Daniel Boud

There are many other aspects of Illume that I haven’t mentioned but which also caused queries to keep surfacing. Those red boxes that the dancers manipulated at one stage. And other things … I would have loved to have left the theatre with a clearer idea of what was happening. But what a thrill it always is to see dancers performing with the skill and commitment of those who make up Bangarra Dance Theatre.

Michelle Potter, 5 June 2025

Featured image: A moment from Illume showing a little of the starry element of Damien Cooper’s lighting design. Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2025. Photo: © Daniel Boud

As a postscript I have to say that Daniel Boud’s images are spectacular given the speed and changing nature of the choreography and the variety of multi-media inclusions.

Daniel Mateo in a moment from *Illume*. Bangarra Dance Theatre, 2025. Photo: © Daniel Boud

Dance diary. May 2025

Illume. Bangarra Dance Theatre

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

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

Bonsai Ballerina

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

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

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

Stanton Welch on a new Raymonda

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

Chandrabhanu turns 75

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

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

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

Press for May 2025

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

Michelle Potter, 31 May 2025

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

Cranko. The film

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michelle Potter, 22 May 2025

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

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

Manon. The Australian Ballet (2025)

14 May 2025. Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michelle Potter, 15 May 2025

*For a synopsis of Manon see this link.