Season’s greetings, 2022

To all those who have logged on to this website throughout 2022, thank you for your interest. I wish you the very best for the holiday season. To me the holiday season means Christmas, and the photographs below are some of my favourite Christmas-related images from years past (with one from this year).

Yuumi Yamada as Clara in The Nutcracker. The Australian Ballet, 2019. Photo: © Daniel Boud

Carols by Candlelight, Woden Valley Youth Choir, 2022
Carols by Candlelight, Canberra’s Woden Valley Youth Choir, 2022

Christmas bells, Bali 2018

The church at Chimayo, New Mexico, 2007


Have a safe and happy holiday season, whichever holiday you may be celebrating.

Michelle Potter, 24 December 2022

Featured image: The Santa Claus on the right was a Christmas present from a little boy in one of my ballet classes way back in the 1980s. On a trip to Scandinavia in around 2006 (perhaps a little earlier?), I bought the other two. The little wood cutter in the centre always sits on top of the quintessentially French bûche de Noël (Christmas log), a dessert I often make at Christmas time.

Cranko. The man and his choreography. Book review

Cranko. The man and his choreography by Ashley Killar
Matador/Troubador Publishing
ISBN. 978-0-646-86603-1
reviewed by Jennifer Shennan

This biography of John Cranko is a deeply researched, widely contextualised and beautifully written account of the life and work of a major choreographer of mid-20th century. There is meticulous detail in the documentation and analysis of Cranko’s vast choreographic output, both within the text and in appendices. Ashley Killar has drawn on that oeuvre, as well as many of Cranko’s letters to friends and colleagues, to evaluate the teeming imagination and artistry, musical ear, lively sense of wit and satire, the devoted loyalty to friends and colleagues, the generous personality, the frankness over frustrations when things went wrong, the ability to move on to the next thing, the excesses in a sometimes reckless lifestyle —-all the good and some of the bad in a life fully lived but ended too soon. You come to know the man through coming to know his works, not just by reading a list of titles but by experiencing the texture and timing of the choreographies. That’s skilful dance writing.

Killar was a member of Stuttgart Ballet from 1962 to 1967 so he knew Cranko well. The book Is a devoted tribute to the man and his work, but in no measure is it simply hagiography. The contexts of socio-political history and related arts that open several chapters, and are also summarised in the appendix of choreography, are welcome reminders of a 20th century world. The contrasts of living conditions and morale in South Africa (where Cranko was born, in 1927), in post-war England (where he lived, danced and began to choreograph), in a divided post-war Germany without a single national ballet company (where he flourished, from 1961 to 1973), in Russia (where there were intriguing interactions within the political control of ballet, and the dancers visiting from Stuttgart had to step through a door in an iron fire-curtain lowered to end the applause but the audience would not cease applauding), and in America (where on a number of tours, thanks to Sol Hurok, Cranko met with great success with audiences, who loved the narrative and dramatic power of his works that their own dance-makers had not produced. There was also ongoing disdain from certain critics, Arlene Croce the most vocal among them… as though to say, ‘If you love —Balanchine then you must hate Cranko’. OK, so did that mean the reverse was true?  (KIllar’s pen is wiser and more tempered than Croce’s was).  

These contextual accounts are briefly but tellingly written and the book should appeal to a much wider readership than just ballet afficionados. It places the man in his dances, his dances in society, and societies in their response to his dances. That’s resonant choreography and insightful appreciation combined.

There were seemingly unconventional work practices in all his career. Cranko never had an office but would sit in the company canteen, use the phone on the counter, and be at all times accessible to the dancers he considered members of a family—holding no truck with the typical power and control that many a ballet company director adopts in the vain pretence that this secures leadership. The accounts around England’s Royal Ballet and that company’s ethos under Ninette de Valois’ directorship, come under the spotlight. Peggy van Praagh by contrast emerges as a genuinely joyful and encouraging figure who instantly recognised Cranko’s talent and knew how to help him rein in so that his best ideas could emerge, that less would be more. Her own long life generously devoted to dance is well caught here.

You could look at the listing of dancers in the Stuttgart company and fledgling choreographers stimulated and nurtured  by Cranko—they are among the best in the world, and New Zealand gets an entry. There is further resonance for New Zealand in that Martin James danced the title role of Eugene Onegin many times, rating it one of the most demanding and rewarding in his own remarkable performing career. It is but one example of how the dance profession becomes a kind of country in its own right, crossing over the political and historical boundaries defined by nationalism and history.

Cranko’s longstanding friendships with designer John Piper, and with composer Benjamin Britten (whose Gloriana, Peter Grimes, Prince of the Pagodas, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Bouquet Garni were choreographed to) are covered. Figures in the English ballet world include Cranko’s relationship with the somewhat caustic de Valois, the idiosyncratic Frederick Ashton, as well as his camaraderie with Kenneth MacMillan, and are notable. It is Peggy van Praagh who emerges as an independent thinker and visionary to my mind.  I was intrigued to hear of the early influence on Cranko of the work of Rudolf Laban and Kurt Jooss—and later of his appreciation of the technique and style of Martha Graham, and suspect van Praagh was instrumental in this open-mindedness. Cranko’s partnership with Anne Woolliams as influential teacher at Stuttgart and her later appointment to the Australian Ballet, where van Praagh was a pioneering and spirited leader, provide a further connection to ballet in this part of the world.

From a hugely prolific body of work it is probably the early Cranks revue, the now largely forgotten Prince of the Pagodas, his The Lady and the Fool, Romeo & Juliet, Onegin and The Taming of the Shrew for which he is most remembered.

Marcia Haydée was legendary dancer and company stronghold at Stuttgart for many years. Among the young dancers in his company whose choreography he encouraged and nurtured are John Neumeier, Jiri Kylian, Gray Veredon (New Zealand’s own) and Ashley Killar himself (artistic director of RNZBallet 1992-1995, whose No Exit and Dark Waves were among the most dramatically incisive works in the company’s entire repertoire).

Cranko’s legacy speaks volumes and Killar has done him proud.

Jennifer Shennan, 13 December 2022

Cranko. The man and his choreography is available through Bloch’s ballet centres (including by mail order). Alternatively, the book is available to order through bookstores, or direct from www.troubador.co.uk/bookshop/biography/cranko/ 

Go to www.crankobiography.com for more information.

Romeo and Juliet. The Australian Ballet (2022)

10 December 2022 (matinee). Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House

Choreography: John Cranko
Design: Jürgen Rose
Lighting: Jon Buswell
Composer: Sergei Prokofiev

It is hard to believe that it is around 20 years since John Cranko’s Romeo and Juliet was last performed by the Australian Ballet. Since then the production of Romeo and Juliet that the Australian Ballet has shown on numerous occasions has been by Graeme Murphy. Apart from the Murphy production, in the 20 years prior to the current production of Cranko’s work, I have seen Kenneth MacMillan’s Romeo and Juliet, danced by the Royal Ballet and by Queensland Ballet, as well as productions by Stanton Welch for Houston Ballet, Sasha Waltz for the Paris Opera Ballet, John Neumeier’s production danced by the Royal Danish Ballet, a condensed version with the title R & J by Natalie Weir for Expressions Dance Company, and a reimagined production of the story, called Unravel, by a Canberra-based pre-professional company. So, rather than do a regular review I am simply noting some high points from the performance I saw just recently from the Australian Ballet.

Tybalt
I had the good fortune to see Joseph Romancewicz in the role of Tybalt, kinsman of the Capulet family. I have enjoyed watching Romancewicz for some time now and I thought his performance as Tybalt demonstrated a well thought through characterisation. He was cold and unrelenting in his dislike for the Montagues. He never fell out of character and his sword fight with Mercutio and then his death at the hands of Romeo were dramatic and powerful.

The ball scene (Act I, scene 4)
The largely-black costumes by Jürgen Rose for the guests at the Capulet ball were spectacular, as was the choreography and the dancing of it. I especially loved the moments when the men fell to their knees, on cushions they had dropped to the floor, and made a kind of reverence to their lady partners.

The music
The well-known music by Sergei Prokofiev, with the orchestra under the baton of the new Australian Ballet conductor Jonathan Lo, sounded just brilliant. Filled with such a diversity of thematic material and so much emotion, it was used to great effect by Cranko.

The carnival scene in the marketplace of Verona (Act II, scene 1)
Although I found the costuming for this scene a little overly decorative, the dancing was exciting to watch: I especially enjoyed the acrobatic moments by a quartet of very flexible performers. But all the dancers were full of the excitement of the moment, until the joy was interrupted by the demands of Tybalt.

The carnival in the marketplace from Romeo and Juliet. The Australian Ballet, 2022. Photo: © Daniel Boud

The progression of the storyline
The storyline moved along quickly and without a hitch. Every scene made its point clearly, never lingering over non-essential matters. The one exception, perhaps, was the dance of the bridesmaids (Act III, scene 3) which choreographically seemed to be a little uninspiring to me and continued for too long.

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Apart from the dance for the bridesmaids, there were other aspects of the work that didn’t appeal, which I think related more to the dancers I saw than to the work itself. Apart from Romancewicz, the only other dancer who made my eyes light up was Lucien Xu as Benvolio, who often is an easy-to-ignore character. But not this time.

As a final comment, I have to say that Cranko’s Romeo and Juliet, which concludes the Australian Ballet’s 2022 season, is a master work really. It had, thankfully, so much more to offer than the previous program, Instruments of Dance.

Michelle Potter 12 December 2022

For reviews of other productions of Romeo and Juliet, and some stories relating to the work, see this link.

Featured image: The carnival in the marketplace from Romeo and Juliet. The Australian Ballet, 2022. Photo: © Jeff Busby

The Nutcracker. Queensland Ballet (2022)

2 December 2022. Playhouse, Queensland Performing Arts Centre, Brisbane

I have fond memories of watching a production of Nutcracker pretty much every Christmas as a young ballet student in Sydney and it is great to see Queensland Ballet making their Nutcracker (choreographed by Ben Stevenson originally in 1976) a Brisbane tradition. Every production has its high points and the highlight for me in this Queensland Ballet performance was the snow scene where Clara (Chiara Gonzalez) is transported, after her encounter with the Nutcracker and his fight with the army of rats, to the Kingdom of the Sweets via a snowy landscape. The appearance of the Snow Queen gave me a frisson of excitement to begin with and as the dancing progressed the goose bumps continued. Mia Heathcote as the Snow Queen and Patricio Revé as the Prince danced exceptionally well both in solos and pas de deux, and the snowflake corps de ballet were also a delight to watch. The set for this section (sets by Thomas Boyd) reminded me of a trip way back in December 2007 through the snowy Kit Carson Forest, in New Mexico.

Mia Heathcote and Patricio Revé in Ben Stevenson’s Nutcracker. Queensland Ballet, 2022. Photo: © David Kelly

Then there was the orchestra playing that moving section of Tchaikovsky’s score with the addition of the Voices of Birralee from St Peter’s Lutheran College Choir. It was all just glorious and, to the amazement of everyone (at least those where I was sitting), snowflakes fell on us as the lights went up for interval!*

But to the production as a whole: the opening scenes were filled with action as guests enjoyed themselves at the Christmas party that opens the ballet. The stage space was a little crowded, however, and the action rather too full of pantomime-style behaviour for my liking. It weakened the presence of Dr Drosselmeyer (Alexander Idaszak) and his two sets of dolls, and the other various activities that have prominence in these scenes. There were just too many people trying to dominate the action of the party.

But as Clara retired to bed and the army of rats and the soldiers who fight the rats arrived, the production became easier to watch. There were some lovely humorous moments, including when ‘nurse rats’ arrived, with one waving a white flag and others carrying a stretcher, to carry off the injured body of the King Rat. The King Rat had just a brief role but Vito Bernasconi, who danced the part on opening night, was an outstanding interpreter of Stevenson’s expressive choreography of twists, bends and jumps that gave such character to the role—and Desmond Heeley’s costume was exceptional.

Vito Bernasconi as the King Rat in Ben Stevenson’s Nutcracker. Queensland Ballet, 2022. Photo: © David Kelly

Act II was very ‘sweetish’ with little cakes and other sweet items decorating the set and a bunch of cooks rushing in and out with their items for Clara to taste. Some of the entertainment, watched by Clara and the cooks, was somewhat different in Stevenson’s version from what many older folks might remember. For example, the Russian gopak usually a dance for more than one man, was a solo brilliantly performed by Bernasconi, and the Chinese Dance (Mali Comlecki and Luke DiMattina) was highly acrobatic and was akin to a martial arts demonstration. The always-anticipated Waltz of the Flowers showed Lucy Green and David Power dancing the lead couple with exception fluidity and grace.

Lucy Green and David Power as the lead couple in the Waltz of the Flowers in Ben Stevenson’s Nutcracker. Queensland Ballet 2022. Photo: © David Kelly

The grand pas de deux was danced on opening night by Yanela Piñera as the Sugar Plum Fairy and Patricio Revé as her Prince and once more I was especially impressed by Revé as a partner. He is completely engaged with whomever he partners, and in whatever role he performs. Watching Piñera was a joy too as from the relatively close seat I had I could see how every tiny move she made filled the space around her. Beautiful dancing from both artists.

Yanela Piñera and Patricio Revé in the grand pas de deux from Ben Stevenson’s Nutcracker. Queensland Ballet, 2022. Photo: © David Kelly

From a different point of view, I have much admiration for Nigel Gaynor, Queensland Ballet’s conductor and musical arranger. I have always been impressed by the collaborative way he works and this time I was sitting close enough to see just how he engaged with the dancers, even applauding at various stages (baton still in hand), when a solo or pas de deux was especially spectacular.

Despite my comments on the opening party scenes of this production, it was a treat to see this Nutcracker danced so beautifully across the evening by the hugely talented team that makes up Queensland Ballet these days.

Michelle Potter, 4 December 2022

* I’m not sue what the ‘snow’ was except that it wasn’t bits of white paper. Perhaps water, slightly frozen? But this delightful addition to audience experience has never happened to me before.

Featured image: Mia Heathcote as the Snow Queen in Ben Stevenson’s Nutcracker. Queensland Ballet, 2022. Photo: © David Kelly

Dance diary. November 2022

  • Sydney Dance Company in 2023

2023 marks Rafael Bonachela’s fifteenth year as artistic director of Sydney Dance Company and he has announced that he will continue in the role for another five years. The 2023 season will open with a triple bill called Ascent co-commissioned by the Canberra Theatre Centre. As such it will have its opening performances in Canberra followed by a season at the Sydney Opera House as part of the 50th anniversary celebrations of the House.

Ascent will feature a brand-new work by Bonachela, the return of Forever and Ever by Antony Hamilton, first shown in 2018, and a world premiere by Spanish choreographer Marina Mascarell. Of the program Bonachela says, ‘After the challenges of the past few years, I am so pleased to again be commissioning an international artist whose works have garnered critical acclaim around the world, alongside showcasing the work of a brilliant Australian choreographer.’

Scene from 'Forever & Ever', Sydney Dance Company 2018. Photo: © Pedro Greig
Scene from Antony Hamilton’s Forever and ever. Sydney Dance Company, 2018. Photo: © Pedro Greig

And I am so pleased that Canberra will be the city hosting the premiere of Ascent. Sydney Dance Company has been touring to Canberra pretty much annually (last year, 2021, is the only exception that stands out in my mind) since the 1970s. It is great to see this initiative, for which we must acknowledge the Canberra Theatre Trust for its co-commission.

Further information on the 2023 season is available on the Sydney Dance Company website. It includes information on the company’s regional tour, and its season of Up Close, a new venture to bring the company and audiences closer together and which will include a new work from Bonachela called Somos (meaning ‘we are’ in Spanish).

  • Launch of Glimpses of Graeme

Hobart, more specifically the Battery Point Community Hall, was the site for the launch of my latest book, Glimpses of Graeme. Reflections on the work of Graeme Murphy. The event was beautifully hosted by the Hobart Bookshop and it was a full house for the conversation between Graeme and me, which was moderated by Lucinda Sharp. Also featured were two short excerpts from works created for MADE by Murphy and danced by Sue Pickard and Laura Della-Pasqua, the official launch by Shirley Gibson from MADE, and a book signing.

In the image below, taken at the end of the event, see (l-r) Lucinda Sharp, dancer Susan Pickard, Michelle Potter, Graeme Murphy, Bronwyn Chalke (owner of Hobart Bookshop), dancer Laura Della-Pasqua (at rear), Shirley Gibson from MADE who did the official launch, and Janet Vernon.

Copies of Glimpses of Graeme are available from FortySouth online book store at this link.

  • Eileen Kramer turns 108

Early in November Eileen Kramer, once a dancer with Gertrud Bodenwieser, celebrated her 108th birthday. These days she works closely with film maker Sue Healey and a group of close friends in Sydney, where she currently lives.

See this tag for posts about Kramer on this site. My favourite is a link to a film made by Healey in 2017, which won an Australian Dance Award. Happy returns to Eileen Kramer.

Eileen Kramer, 2021. Photo: © Sue Healey
  • News from James Batchelor

James Batchelor’s Shortcuts to familiar places premiered in Berlin in October and was toured to Bangkok in November. Batchelor has recently shared two comments on the work, including one from Australian dance artist Alice Heyward. Heyward’s essay is beautifully and thoughtfully written and constructed and so worth reading. Here is the link.

Michelle Potter, 30 November 2022

Featured image: Publicity shot for Sydney Dance Company’s 2023 season. Photo: © David Boon