Arangetram—Indian Dance Performance. Mudra Dance Company

14 January 2024. Whirinaki Arts Centre, Upper Hutt, Wellington
reviewed by Jennifer Shennan

An arangetram is a graduation recital in the Bharata Natyam tradition of Indian classical dance. It’s effectively a solo performance lasting close to two hours—a phenomenon in any dance terms, demanding stamina and memory of heroic proportions. To witness a young performer achieve the standard where they can share what they have learned in up to ten years of study and training is not easily matched in any other dance practice that comes to mind.

Vivek Kinra is a renowned teacher in this tradition, and 45 graduates of his Wellington-based Mudra Dance Academy have performed an arangetram over these past three decades, an extraordinary statistic. Typically, the young dancer will be in late teens, perhaps early 20s (though there are exceptions. ‘You perform when I say you are ready,’ says their teacher) so it echoes the achievement of Solo Seal in ballet terms, though in the Indian case this is a fully choreographed and costumed performance in a theatre. The music is recorded in India, the costumes are made there. Detailed and beautifully illustrated printed programs are given out. Tasty Indian refreshments will be provided in the intermission, and upon arrival you have been greeted by a line of smiling hosts who offer a sugar crystal, and a bindi for your forehead. (‘A bindi … symbolizes spirituality, identity, and heritage, and is associated with the activation of the third eye chakra’).

It’s clear we are in for a special experience. The audience is radiantly attired, so whatever you wear you will be outshone, but you don’t waste time wondering what on earth you have done to deserve an invitation to such an auspicious gathering. You just sit down and read your program because there’s a lot of good guidance in it.

I told you there were exceptions, but today’s arangetram takes some beating. Esther McCreadie is the first full-European student to graduate from Mudra. She is of Irish descent and did not begin her study of Indian dance until seeing Vivek perform when in her 20s. She is now aged 46. I suck the little sugar crystal to calm my nerves. I can only imagine how Esther is feeling.

Kinra is a celebrated graduate of the renowned Kalakshetra Academy in Chennai. It is Wellington’s fortune that he has taught here since 1992. The high standards of his own performing, choreography and teaching are well recognised and his pupils are in safe hands.

The first half of the program comprised Mangalam, Alarippu, Shabdam and Ranjani Mala, a varnam. These dance types have contrasting rhythmic demands and dramatic qualities, but in each of them Esther’s technique and sense of line in sculptural poses are secure and give much aesthetic pleasure. We are immediately at ease to see her mudra handwork beautifully articulated, her strong rhythmic security, and the varied range of abhinaya, facial expressions. Creatures galore are evoked—gods and kings, devotees and cupids, gopis and demons, as well as lotus flowers and jewels of adornment.

After the intermission there are keertanam, bhajan, padam and thillana—in celebratory or meditative mood. The padam, Asai Mugam, is particularly poignant as it laments the dancer’s separation from Lord Krishna whose face she can no longer remember, and she struggles to understand what she has done to deserve that punishment. The final scintillating thillana makes a triumphant end to a beautiful and memorable performance.

Various experts pronounce regularly on the benefits of extreme physical exercise for our human body to function at optimum health. Many people count how many steps they walk each day. I think they’d be better to take Bharata Natyam classes since the mind as well as the body is involved to the maximum, and the music is way way better. Namaskar.

Jennifer Shennan, 16 January 2024

All photos: © Gerry Keating

Featured image: A moment from Esther McCreadie’s arangetram, 2024

New Breed. Sydney Dance Company, 2023

9 December 2023. Carriageworks, Eveleigh (Sydney)

New Breed, an annual program of new works from four emerging choreographers, celebrated its tenth year in 2023. While I haven’t seen all ten seasons, two works from previous seasons stand out in my mind—Melanie Lane’s WOOF from 2017, which has gone on to have main stage performances and has lost none of its brilliant approach to choreography and theme, and Reign in 2015 from Daniel Riley, who is now artistic director of Australian Dance Theatre. For me, however, none of the fours works in the 2023 season, one each from choreographers Riley Fitzgerald, Eliza Cooper, Tra Mi Dinh and Beau Dean Riley Smith, had anywhere near the same impact as the two works I remember so clearly from the past. Unfortunately! But then I guess we can’t expect necessarily that every season will have a work that is so good that it remains in the memory for years.

From a purely visual point of view, Eliza Cooper’s Revenge tales and romance looked spectacular with its remarkable, colour-drenched costumes designed by Aleisa Jelbart. But it was hard to follow what exactly Cooper was getting at. After reading the program notes, it seems there were many thoughts (too many) going through Cooper’s mind as she put the work together. Brazen heroism? The appropriateness of symbolism and archetype? Legacy and canon? And so on. Dance doesn’t lend itself to a multitude of abstract ideas in my opinion and I found Revenge tales and romance entertaining in some respects, but frustrating to follow in many others.

Scene from *Revenge tales and romance*. Photo: © Pedro Greig

Choreographically I particularly enjoyed Tra Mi Dinh’s Somewhere between ten and fourteen, which explored the changing light of the period of dusk. Although it seemed rather long (even though it lasted just 22 minutes), it was well constructed with its group of dancers changing patterns and moving through space quite nicely. With just one major idea at its centre, it was a work that spoke clearly and allowed further, personal thoughts to emerge at times.

Riley Fitzgerald’s EverybOdy’s gOt a bOmb (and yes, the upper case O in three spots is how it was spelled) was based on several distressing events that occurred during the 1999 Woodstock Festival in Rome, New York State. Fitzgerald’s program notes says his work explores ‘raw, primal behaviours that emerge during such chaotic events’. The choreography was sometimes ugly (appropriate given the theme?) in its groupings, and it was certainly chaotic, but, a little like Cooper’s work, it was not an easy topic to follow.

Having been a longtime admirer of Beau Dean Riley Smith’s work as a dancer and occasionally choreographer with Bangarra Dance Theatre, I had been looking forward to his Gubba, a work in which he set out to examine the demolition of First Nation’s peoples over time by white colonists. It was a great topic and well worth telling through an Indigenous perspective. I admired the choreography, with overtones of Bangarra vocabulary, but it was a shame I thought that Smith chose to think of the colonists as akin to Martians. The word ‘gubba’, which gave its name to the work, is defined in the Macquarie Dictionary as ‘n. Aboriginal English, (oft. derog.) a white man’. That was enough to reflect an opinion, especially given the derogative nuance of the word, and perhaps it was somewhat unnecessary to go ‘off the planet’ as it were.

New Breed, produced with a principal partnership from the Balnaves Foundation, is a terrific initiative and, despite my various misgivings, I look forward to seeing another iteration in 2024. You never know what and who might emerge.

Michelle Potter, 18 December 2023

Featured image: (l-r) Eliza Cooper, Beau Dean Riley Smith, Tra Mi Dinh and Riley Fitzgerald. Photo: © Pedro Greig

Possum Magic. The Ballet. The Australian Ballet School

8 December 2023. The Playhouse, Victorian Arts Centre, Melbourne

I was more than curious when I heard that Loughlan Prior was preparing a ballet based on the much-loved children’s book by Mem Fox, Possum Magic. I mean how on earth was he going to manage the invisibility of Hush, the possum character on whom Grandma Poss casts a spell making Hush disappear from sight in order to save her from danger in the bush? Despite the invisibility, Hush continues to play an ongoing, major role as her visibility slowly reappears. She rarely leaves the stage.

Well I need not have worried. It all happened with cleverly introduced costume changes and terrific input from the other characters who acted beautifully throughout to stage a pretence that they couldn’t see Hush while she was under the spell of invisibility.

Grandma Poss has forgotten the magic that will return Hush to a state of visibility and, as the story progresses, the invisible Hush and Grandma Poss hop on a bike and travel through the Australian countryside and the country’s major cities, nicely shown through snippets of film, looking for human food that might restore Hush’s visibility. After eating some typical Australian delicacies at various stops, including Pavlova, Lamingtons, Vegemite, Minties, Anzac biscuits and others, Hush returns slowly to a visible state. The critical items are Pavlova, Vegemite and Lamingtons and the return to visibility, and arrival back in the bush where the characters live, is warmly welcomed by everyone.

Milana Gould as Hush danced beautifully. Her finely boned body and her long and flexible limbs brought out the best in Prior’s choreography, which shows not only classical steps and combinations, but some more contemporary movements as well. Kit Thompson as Grandma Poss gave an outstanding performance with excellent stage presence and I especially enjoyed watching two sparring kangaroos (Thomas Boddington and Tadgh Robinson) and an impressive and quite dominant koala (Ethan Mrmacovski).

Possum Magic. The Ballet showed Loughlan Prior at his theatrical best. His insertion of film was exceptional as was his varied choreography to suit the characters, especially for the Pavlova ladies whose dancing was very classical indeed. His collaborators worked beautifully with him with a very danceable score from Claire Cowan, costumes and set from Emma Kingsbury (I especially loved the Pavlova tutus—red skirts trimmed with white Pavlova slices around the edges); and lighting from Jon Buswell. The ballet is a delight to watch and encapsulates beautifully the Mem Fox book on which it is based. It deserves further showings.

Grandma Poss and Hush (foreground) with Palova ladies in Perth. Photo: © Sergey Konstantinov

The second half of the program consisted of three short items, Degas dances from Paul Knobloch and largely danced by Level 4 students of the School with some outstanding solo sections from Ruito Takabatake; Nexus from Stephen Baynes for Level 7 students; and Techno Requiem from Lucas Jervies showing a contemporary dance style and strongly performed by Level 8 students. I was particularly thrilled to see Nexus as Baynes’ choreography is not often on show these days. Nexus, danced to Capriccio for Piano and String Orchestra by Graeme Koehne, shows Baynes’ innate musicality, his beautiful and sometimes surprising use of space, and his unique choreographic style and structure. But in all this second part showed off the range of dance that is taught at the Australian Ballet School.

Michelle Potter, 13 December 2023

Featured image: The characters in Possum Magic. The Ballet with Milana Gould as Hush (centre, held aloft by Koala). Photo: © Sergey Konstantinov

Swan Lake. The Australian Ballet (2023). A second look

9 December 2023 (matinee). Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House

There’s nothing like being there!

My first impressions of David Hallberg’s vision for a new Swan Lake were not entirely positive—but I saw it first on film. My second viewing was a live performance and, while the stage of the Joan Sutherland Theatre is really too small (as we have all known for years) to stage a fully successful production of any large scale ballet, being there rather than watching ‘from the comfort of my own home’ gave me a new and more positive impression.

In Act I, following an interesting Prologue in which we learnt of the long-standing role of von Rothbart, the dancing from those gathered to celebrate Prince Siegfried’s name day was joyful and just gorgeous to watch. As often happens, my eye was drawn to Joseph Romancewicz* who always seems to inhabit the role he has taken on, even when it’s simply a character in the corps de ballet. But everyone in the corps of dancers looked and performed just beautifully. Nathan Brook as Siegfried was suitably withdrawn as he pondered his future, although his solo, which concludes the first act, was a little shaky in parts. It would have been a stronger Act I, however, if the Queen Mother (Gillian Revie) had had more dominance in the unfolding of the narrative. She seemed almost superfluous.

Unfortunately however, my original thoughts on Act II didn’t change much with the stage performance I saw. The dancing, especially from the corps de ballet and soloists, was exceptional but there was still little emotion on display, including from Dimity Azoury who danced Odette. I have never seen Act II of Swan Lake danced with the coldness, or apparent lack of emotion, that seems to be what is required in this production. Why is it like this? Very disappointing.

Things changed a little in Act III. The national dances were more spirited than what I saw on film and both Odile and Siegfried were more believable as characters, even if Azoury as Odile needed to be more seductive (rather than just smiling out at the audience). Sadly too Azoury’s 32 fouettés were somewhat out of control.

The last act, however, was quite stunning. I was transfixed by the beautifully minimal aspect of the choreographic structure, and how the dancers’ performance made this structure very clear. I also loved the way the four little swans and the two leading swans (Isobelle Dashwood and Saranja Crowe) were so clearly included in the group sections of the choreography in this act. In addition, the unfolding of the story in this final act was very clearly shown and, to my immense pleasure, there was at last some measure of emotion between Odette and Siegfried, especially noticeable from Brook’s strong input in relation to his feelings for Odette and for his betrayal of her in the previous act. What a difference a bit of emotional input makes!

As for the curtain calls, they were distinguished by the loud boo-ing that greeted von Rothbart (Jarryd Madden) as he entered to take his call. A real accolade for Madden’s fine interpretation of von Rothbart especially in Act III where his belief in his superiority (even to the extent of his sitting in the vacant chair next to the Queen Mother), and his absolute single-mindedness that Odile would triumph, were very clear.

And as a final point, the orchestra, led by Jonathan Lo, was in fine form. We could almost see the music and hear the choreography so well were they together.

Michelle Potter, 11 December 2023

Featured image: A choreographic moment from the corps de ballet in Swan Lake. The Australian Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Daniel Boud

*Joseph Romancewicz danced von Rothbart at some performances. I regret that I didn’t see him in that role. I’m sure he would have made it his own!

Postscript: One of my recent second-hand purchases was a book I previously never knew existed: Misha. The Mikhail Baryshnikov Story (London: Robson Books, 1989) by Barbara Aria. In it the author talks about the Baryshnikov staging of Swan Lake for American Ballet Theatre. Speaking of Swan Lake as brought out of Russia in annotated form by Nikolai Sergeyev, Aria writes on p. 175, ‘It was these contemporary Soviet versions that Misha restaged at ABT, adapting and streamlining them in the process.’ While Hallberg was not part of ABT when Baryshnikov was leading the company, I can’t help wondering whether there is some influence from the ‘adapting and streamlining’ that Aria suggests characterised the Baryshnikov ABT production (which perhaps was also there in subsequent ABT productions?) in the ‘boiled down and refined’ production that Hallberg was seeking, which I mentioned in my previous review.

In the same book the author quotes from a review by esteemed New York-based dance critic Joan Acocella. Writing on p. 197 on Baryshnikov’s portrayal of Siegfried in Swan Lake’, Acocella is quoted as saying, ‘[Baryshnikov’s] mere shoulder, seen from behind, told you everything you need to know about the Act III Siegfried: that he’s a prince, that he is in love, that he is in doubt.’ There it is—the way in which simple movements can portray aspects of narrative!

New Zealand School of Dance: Performance Season 2023

29 & 30 November 2023. Te Whaea, Wellington
by Jennifer Shennan

NZSD offered alternating programs, one of Classical and one of Contemporary dance, across a five-day season. There was a consistently high standard of dancing from all the students across both programs, though a number of audience members admitted they would have liked to see pieces from each stream combined onto one program, since they were only able to attend a single performance. That too would have demonstrated the range of technical and aesthetic strengths that the School offers, and varied the choreographic experiences for us all.

The timing of the season makes it effectively a Graduation though it is not billed as such, so we surmise it’s the Third Years who are graduating, or Second Years who may be leaving if they have already been offered a contract somewhere. All the students deserve congratulations for staying the distance, and we wish them courage and stamina as they seek out pathways to long and fruitful dance careers. There’s a rich legacy, since the School’s beginning in 1967, of many graduates who have done just that, and that list would read as tribute to all the former and present faculty and students who have made the world a better place by dancing.

The Classical program comprised four works all by American choreographers with, unusually, all of them staged by one person, Betsy Erickson, an American visiting teacher to the School. Meistens Mozart was choreographed in 1991, by Helgi Tomasson, long-time artistic director to San Francisco Ballet (recently retired—and replaced now by the wunderkind of international ballet, Tamara Rojo—it will be of considerable interest to see how she handles the American ballet scene after ten tears at the helm of English National Ballet). The work was lively and danced with enthusiasm, to a set of songs by Mozart and contemporaries.

Tessa Cockerton Holmes and Angus O’Connell in Helgi Tomasson’s *Meistens Mozart*. New Zealand School of Dance Performance Season, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Aria, by Val Caniparoli, is a striking solo for a masked male, danced here with much aplomb by Joshua Douglas (a 2nd year student already headed for a career opportunity at Queensland Ballet). The Handel sarabande is sublime dance music and the choreography etches its way into a beautiful response to that, inviting a fine performance. It would have been fascinating to watch a Contemporary dance student, maybe a female, in a following repeat performance, to help us all see and appreciate where technique and virtuosity give way to character and emotion. Therein lies theatre.

Vivaldi Concerto Grosso, choreographed in 1981 by Lew Christensen, also of San Francisco Ballet, gave further lively opportunity to a larger cast, though had a similar choreographic structure and style to the opening work.

A piece that reflected New Zealand’s ballet legacy would have provided welcome contrast—from Bournonville, Fokine, Kerr or Veredon for example. The current NZSD faculty includes Anne Gare, Turid Revfeim, Sue Nicholls, Nadine Tyson, Vivencio Samblaceno—most of them graduates of NZSD and all of them formerly with RNZBallet, so staging something from the Company’s repertoire would have been in safe hands, and acknowledged the relationship between the two enterprises.

Another work from Val Caniparoli, made in 1980 for Seattle’s Pacific Northwest Ballet, used the familiar and playfully percussive Schulwerk of Carl Orff for Street Songs, that captured a young and optimistic mood and fitting finale to the evening.

Classical ballet students in Val Caniparoli’s *Street Songs*. New Zealand School of Dance Performance Season, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

The following evening’s Contemporary dance program had an altogether different sense of occasion, with Vice Regal and Ambassadorial attendance, and opened with a substantial whakatau (Maori welcome) delivered by Tanemahuta Gray.

The first work, a premiere this season, Thank You, was by Felix Sampson, a graduate of NZSD, now in DanceNorth company in Townsville, Australia. The tongue-in-cheek opener with a cleverly judged tone was a spirited piece, and the large group of dancers made a well-bonded ensemble.

Outlier, also a premiere, by Kit Reilly, a recent NZSD graduate, was a standout choreography with reflections of sounds, rhythms and forms in natural surrounds. At times there were poetic echoes of the kinds of creatures that David Attenborough brings to our attention, and that is high praise from me. We can look forward to more dance-making from Reilly since he clearly has what it takes to shape movement into ideas, and vice versa.

Contemporary dance students in Kit Reilly’s *Outlier*. New Zealand School of Dance Performance Season, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Excerpts from The Beginning of Nature by Australian choreographer Garry Stewart, to music by Brendan Woithe, used solos and duos as well as group work that made for intriguing counterpoint. It’s hard to know from these excerpts what the complete work is like, the program note reads that it ‘…delves into territoriality, senescence and symbiosis, offering a glimpse into life’s beauty.’ A solo danced by Mārie Jones will stay with me a long time however. (A second-year student but leaving NZSD and heading for Canada, I’m guessing she will make waves wherever she dances).

Contemporary dance students in Garry Stewarts’s *The Beginning of Nature*. New Zealand School of Dance Performance Season, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Re:Action, by Ross McCormack, to a combination of musics, is a series of responses by the dancers to a large rock-like prop, designed by Max Deroy, and named ‘the force’. The deliberately slow pace of movement did not seem to aim for any denouement or cadence to help us in our own response to the choreography.

The final work, Incant—summoning the lost magic of intuition, by Amber Haines, of DanceNorth, is an attractive set of large and smaller group pieces, with some effective sculptural shapes caught in a series of arm movements.

All of the students in both programs gave completely committed performances and they should know we wish every one of them a long and wonderful career.

A note on strobe lighting: A warning in the foyer that there will be strobe, and also loud music, during the performance is a bit like the road sign ‘Beware of falling rocks.’ Not a lot you can do about it except close your eyes—which is what I always do when strobe starts. Not an ideal way to review a dance performance I admit, but I’m not prepared to compromise on that.

And a comment in retrospect—that Classical and Contemporary dance training share much more similarity than difference. The profession needs dancers who can do everything a choreographer asks, so a combination of works from both NZSD programs would help us to celebrate what dance in the theatre can do for us all.

Jennifer Shennan, 5 December 2023

Featured image: Joshua Douglas in Val Caniparoli’s Aria. New Zealand School of Dance Performance-Season, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Hot to Trot. QL2 Dance (2023)

26 November 2023. QL2 Theatre, Gorman Arts Centre, Canberra

Hot to Trot, the annual program for young choreographers from QL2 Dance, is always varied in what is presented to us, the audience. The 2023 season began with a film documenting the relationship (now twenty years old) between QL2 Dance in Canberra and Thailand’s Bangkok Dance Academy. We were introduced to the varied activities that have been part of that relationship from both a Thai and an Australian point of view.

The film was followed by six short works from choreographers Jahna Lugnan (Hazy Misconceptions), Julia Villaflor (Coloration), Emily Smith (You did this), Calypso Efkarpidis (Polarised Light), Arshiya Abhishree and Maya Wille Bellchambers in a joint production (Parasitic Waves), and Charlie Thomson (Humanchine). None of the choreographers had had extensive choreographic experience and for five it was their first effort. All the choreographers, in an introductory short statement about the work each was presenting, stressed the collaborative nature of the process and expressed the pride and pleasure they felt working closely with the dancers.

What was most striking for me was the way in which each of the choreographers managed the small black box space of the QL2 Theatre. There was no misunderstanding of the size and layout of the space in which they were working, and the movement spread beautifully up and down, across and around the space available. In addition I was impressed with many of the groupings that we saw, which were often a surprise and sometimes intertwined and layered in a quite special way (even if some reminded me of well-known images from past, well-documented productions).

Scene from *Coloration* in Hot to Trot, 2023. Photo: © O&J Wikner Photography

The final piece, Charlie Thomson’s Humanchine, was certainly the most entertaining to watch. It dealt with technology and its effect on human beings. ‘At what point are our thoughts our own and how much of it is informed by the machine,’ Thomson wrote in the printed program. The five dancers were dressed as individuals and showed themselves as having individual thoughts through facial and bodily expression. But they often performed together—often in a line, sometimes looking slightly mechanical. There was a point where the machine and the individual merged (if ever so slightly).

Scene from *Humanchine* in Hot to Trot, 2023. Photo: © O&J Wikner Photography

I also especially enjoyed Calypso Efkarpidis’ Polarised Light. Made on just three dancers it sought to explore the notion that some colours are visible to some creatures but not others, as discussed in a David Attenborough documentary called Life in Colour. The choreography was simple but strong and beautifully performed.

Scene from *Polarised Light* in Hot to Trot, 2023. Photo: © O&J Wikner Photography

Hot to Trot is a great initiative and the courage of those who take up the role of choreographer in the shows is remarkable. But the idea of expressing concepts that are often quite abstract has always bothered me when watching Hot to Trot shows. Even when explained in words, both verbally and in printed form, the ideas are not always visible as strongly as is needed. l often think that emerging choreographers need to consider in greater depth how the body can make concepts visible. I’m sure they do think along those lines but It isn’t an easy task to turn thoughts into movement. The works that always stand out most strongly in Hot to Trot are those where ideas and movement speak as one.

Nevertheless, the 2023 Hot to Trot was a remarkable event. Every work was outstanding in terms of the stagecraft and dancing that emerged.

Michelle Potter, 27 November 2023

Featured image: A moment from Emily Smith’s You did this in Hot to Trot, 2023. Photo: © O&J Wikner Photography

Hansel & Gretel. Royal New Zealand Ballet (2023)

10 November 2023. Regent on Broadway, Palmerston North, Manawatū
reviewed by Jennifer Shennan

This return season of Hansel & Gretel, from choreographer Loughlan Prior and composer Claire Cowan, is a colourful riot of a pantomime romp that the dancers milk to the max. There are some very skilled comic performers among the soloists who use every moment and centimetre of opportunity to entertain us.

I have come to Palmerston North for the performance in Regent on Broadway, a venue that always offers a sense of occasion. The 1400 seat grand theatre, converted and beautifully restored from the original cinema house built in 1930, is a source of local pride and rightly so. The opening to this production of Hansel & Gretel, designed by Kate Hawley, is cleverly styled as a silent movie, so it’s an echo to the days of Busby Berkeley, Whoopee! and Flying High! I don’t suppose there’s anyone in the audience tonight who saw those movies here first time round, but hey, who’s to say there isn’t?

The folktale as we’ve known it from the Brothers Grimm is not the narrative adopted for this choreography. Instead the opening has fashionable well-to-do folk and their snobbish children striding about, flaunting their wealth and casting scorn on the poor little Hansel and Gretel who have nothing much except a toy rabbit to cling to. Their wicked Stepmother is instead recast here as simply the poor wife of the poor husband whose mischievous children are always hungry, so leave home in search of food. The danger of a cruel Stepmother within the family is thus replaced by two worlds of ‘those who have’ and ’those who have not’ as the scenario.

A moment from the opening scene in *Hansel & Gretel*. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

(I sensed here a poignant hint of Katherine Mansfield’s story, The Doll’s House—where the magnanimous Burnell children allow the working-class kids, the Kelveys, a brief visit to see their prized possession. There’s extra resonance in that, since Prior’s recent choreography, Woman of Words, was made as a tribute to the illustrious KM in her centenary year, though has seen only one performance in an arts festival town in the distant south. Many would love to see that work presented on a national scale, and it would further convert to a film of considerable international interest. Now there’s a gauntlet to the recently welcome new Artistic Director of the Company).

Luke Cooper as the Transformed Witch in *Hansel & Gretel*. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

There are fetching scenes of Bird-children, Dew fairies and a Sandman who guide the siblings’ journey, and the gingerbread house of Act Two opens up to fill the stage with the aromas of candy floss, toffee apples and soft-serve ice cream, though with danger lurking in the spokes of a punk-steam bicycle. The role of Hansel was danced with great spirit and comic timing by Shaun James Kelly, and Gretel was fetchingly played by Ella Chambers. Sarah Garbowski dances with a lovely lyricism so the role of gentle Mother suited her well. Ana Gallardo Lobaina, a stunning performer with a magnetic quality that claims your eye whenever she is on stage, was an outrageous Ice Cream Witch, but Luke Cooper as The Transformed Witch probably shares the prize for his high camp and wickedly funny performance, OTT but never out of time.

Ella Chambers as Gretel in *Hansel & Gretel*. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court.

I like trying to imagine the reinstatement of Hansel and Gretel’s cruel stepmother into a ballet, since that is a trope society still has to deal with, and would bring stronger drama to the somewhat lengthy divertissements in several scenes. But having said that I can also admit to being swept along by a madcap ballet that throws comic opportunities at numerous dancers who relish moving to Claire Cowan’s terrific and lively score. The redoubtable Hamish McKeich conducts three different orchestras for the seasons in the main centres, but it is a recording of the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra that we hear in this performance. It is inspired music that truly motivates the dancers, but has also achieved recognition in its own right.

There’s a new and happy energy in the excellent printed program, with essays from all the main contributors in the team that created this production.

Jennifer Shennan, 15 November 2023

Featured image: Ana Gallardo Lobaina as the Ice Cream Witch in Hansel & Gretel. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

The Dream and Marguerite and Armand. The Australian Ballet

15 November 2023 (matinee). Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House

This double bill of works by Frederick Ashton was an entertaining two hours of ballet. I enjoyed in particular the opening work, Marguerite and Armand, for its episodic structure that gave a strong focus to specific moments of love between Marguerite and Armand, and later the moment of Marguerite’s death from tuberculosis. I enjoyed too the minimal set and its semi-circular nature (design Cecil Beaton) that went well with the general structure of the work.

Valerie Tereschenko danced nicely as Marguerite and made her characterisation reasonably clear. But Maxim Zenin as Armand didn’t offer quite enough of Armand’s emotional state to make his character stand out. So the partnership was not as powerful as it needs to be in this work.

Unfortunately (or fortunately for me), I clearly remember Sylvie Guillem dancing the female lead in Marguerite and Armand in Sydney and Melbourne way back in 2002 when the Royal Ballet, then under the direction of Ross Stretton, visited from London.* More recently (2018) I also saw Alessandra Ferri and Federico Bonelli give a stunning performance with the Royal Ballet in London. So I had high expectations, which I’m sad to say weren’t met. I get the feeling that the Australia Ballet currently concentrates more on technical action at the expense of the need for a powerful dramatic essence.

As for A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Bendicte Bemet as Titania and Joseph Caley as Oberon danced well but again I felt they lacked strength of characterisation. Were they King and Queen? Did they rule over the Fairies? Were they really arguing over the Changeling? And so on.

Of the other characters, Bottom (Luke Marchant) dancing on pointe is always a highlight in the Ashton production and Marchant looked very comfortable as he hopped and skipped around on pointe. But again he needed stronger characterisation, especially after he had returned to his role as a Rustic and tried to remember what had happened while under the spell cast on him by Puck.

Unfortunately (again) in terms of how I saw the Ashton production and the Australian Ballet’s performance of it, I had just seen Liam Scarlett’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream performed by Queensland Ballet. Scarlett’s take on the story has so much more to offer than does the Ashton production. And in performing it the dancers of Queensland Ballet demonstrated not only their truly exceptional technical and production values but also the manner in which they have been coached to inhabit a role. It was completely engaging rather than simply entertaining.

While I can say the Australian Ballet’s season of the two Ashton works was entertaining, it did leave me a little cold. I hope there might be more focus soon on dramatic and emotional input. Please!

Michelle Potter, 16 November 2023.

*The Australian Ballet’s website mentions that Marguerite and Armand is having its premiere season in Australia. It might be the premiere for the Australian Ballet, but it’s not the premiere for Australia, the country.

Ballet Noir. Mary-Jane O’Reilly and Company

28 October, 2023. Q Theatre, Auckland
reviewed by Jennifer Shennan

Choreography: Mary-Jane O’Reilly
Script, design & production: Mary-Jane O’Reilly & Phil O’Reilly

From the program note: ‘Ballet Noir is a meditation on Giselle Act II as viewed though a Film Noir lens.’ We all know Giselle of course—or do we? I certainly found new resonance in this innovative and stylish treatment of the Giselle story, which incorporates both old and new elements—bringing the timeless themes of broken trust and hearts, forgiveness and love, up against the forces of vengeance and cynicism. It’s a contemporary reading less concerned with narrative, more with psychology of personalities, and should move both diehard balletomanes as well as first timers in the audience.

That achievement grows from Mary-Jane O’Reilly’s respectful treatment of ballet, while simultaneously being a force for contemporary dance. She trained at National School of Ballet, now New Zealand School of Dance—also in London—and danced with New Zealand Ballet when Poul Gnatt directed. MJ has choreographed the major work, Jean (about Jean Batten) for RNZB, as well as directing, dancing and choreographing for Limbs Dance Company from late 1970s until 1986, with her colleague, the late Sue Paterson.

It is apparent to anyone who thinks about it that ballet/contemporary dance/dance theatre are no longer useful or discrete categories, and certainly not opposites. Leading American dance writers—Selma Jeanne Cohen, Jack Anderson and Joan Acocella—have discussed these topics for years and their writings help us recognise the ways in which dance styles and techniques evolve and reflect the cultural and social contexts of their respective countries and companies. That’s a much richer complex than the binary of ballet/non-ballet. The really interesting professional dance companies in the world require equal strength and versatility in classical and contemporary techniques and interpretation, with dancers ready for whatever a choreographer might require. Ballet Noir straddles this perceived divide with great aplomb. It’s very clever to stage highly trained classical dancers in a contemporary psychological setting, which in turn for me resonates with how Antony Tudor choreographed his masterpieces.

There’s an 8-member troupe of The Cynics, (The Wilis to you), who stride and mince, twist and pose in high style of fashionable black, wearing soft ballet flats but on such high demi-pointe as to stab you with their stiletto heels a mile high. Their temps levé and penchée motifs are timed to the familiar music by Adam, but there are also interpolated soundscapes that take us to new places. Despite their strut, The Cynics are actually in the grip of the devastating Ice Queen, phenomenally played by Shona Wilson, long-time Auckland dance figure from the days of Limbs. We’ve never seen Myrthe dance quite like this before, and there are intriguing flashbacks for us to piece together her own backstory to explain this relentless revenge she holds against men. Shiver me timbers, she gave me the goosebumps.

Shona Wilson as the Ice Queen in *Ballet Noir*, 2023. Photo: © Dave Simpson

Giselle is a naive and lovely girl, the young bride who never quite makes it to the altar. Her vulnerable character grows in strength as she finds how to stand up to the Ice Queen, and there are poignant sequences in a beautifully shaped role. I saw two performances with a change of cast of soloists—Amy Moxham and Lucy Lynch each giving Giselle a convincing presence.

Two young men stray onto the scene—a couple of spivs, let’s call them Hilarion and Albrecht, out for a night on the town. (There’s no Act I in this story). Their dual routines are comic and clever—Jacob Reynolds and Oli Matheison in one cast, Kit Reilly and Thomas Harris in the other—giving as good as they get. Then acid rain starts to fall and they are sucked in to a circle of vengeance not of their own making, as though a nasty scene developed somewhere in the town sometime in the night, and it’s possible they won’t get to see the dawn, though any police will have quite a hard time piecing together what actually happened. We witnessed it though, so we could be interviewed.

Lucy Lynch (Giselle), Shona Wilson (Ice Queen) and Jacob Reynolds (Albrecht) in *Ballet Noir*, 2023. Photo: © Dave Simpson

Throughout the work there’s a backscreen of film sequences that range from slow and oily raindrops to a slow-motion tear running down a cheek, an exquisite crescent moon and a stormy sky, marauding packs of wild dogs and a silly little skit of a dog in a neck ruff doing tricks at a party, wee toddlers playing, grown men sparring. This all may sound like a distraction but in fact was fully absorbed into the danced work throughout.

The ‘Killer Queen’ in *Ballet Noir*, 2021. Photo: © Kezia Barnett

The design of costumes, with several quick changes in the shadows sidestage—long tulle skirts flashing around like evil cloth, then as capes of birdwings. The Ice Queen first wears a long pointed (clear perspex) beak facemask, like some Scandinavian mid-winter ritual dress-up, but in one gesture lifts that high onto her head to become a queen’s crown, or is that a unicorn horn. You tell me. I appreciated the way that a number of motifs through the work were open for personal reading, and all of them will be right readings.

This is an impeccable production that deserves to be widely seen, and would do well in a number of arts festivals. It’s emotionally nuanced, tight and spare, savvy and sexy. Albrecht and Giselle dance their lyrical lovemaking and I get the goosebumps yet again.

Jennifer Shennan, 5 November 2023

A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Queensland Ballet (2023). A second look

28 October 2023 (matinee). Canberra Theatre

I was lucky enough to have the chance to see Liam Scarlett’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream a second time in Canberra. I especially wanted to see the cast that was not dancing on opening night. Mia Heathcote and Alexander Idaszak took on the roles of Titania and Oberon at the second performance I saw, although I hesitate to call them the ‘second cast’ as they were simply a different cast from the opening night.

Everything I previously wrote about the production itself stands for this second review—fabulous set and costumes, gorgeous lighting, great dancing by the Rustics and Fairies. And the rest. But there were some highlights for me from this cast and these highlights are the focal point for this second post.

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Mia Heathcote and Alexander Idaszak as Titania and Oberon.

I admired immensely not just the dancing by Mia Heathcote as Titania and Alexander Idaszak as Oberon, as exceptional as it was throughout, but also the connection that was set up between them. It ranged from the competitiveness they created in the early stages of the work as they argued about who ‘owned’ the changeling child, to love and attraction for each other in the final moments of the work as the issues were resolved. There were of course many other emotions in between the two mentioned but the connections, whatever emotion was in play, were strongly established and always very clear.

The final pas de deux between them was quite astonishing technically, especially in the performance of Scarlett’s surprising and beautiful lifts in which Titania’s body swirled constantly around Oberon’s. I was especially moved too by Idaszak’s lyrical use of every part of his body to enhance the choreography. He was just just magnificent.

Vito Bernasconi as Bottom

Vito Bernasconi was a fascinating Bottom. He made the change from Rustic to Bottom and back again very clear in a physical way and we were in no doubt about his confusion as he tried to understand what had happened to him when, under the spell cast on him by Puck, he engaged with Titania.

Neneka Yoshida and Rian Thompson as Hermia and Lysander

Neneka Yoshida and Rian Thompson made a charming couple as Hermia and Lysander. I was especially taken by Yoshida’s beautiful performing presence and her very easy style of moving and execution of Scarlett’s choreography. And she had a very attentive partner in Thompson. They were such a pleasure to watch.

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Liam Scarlett’s Midsummer Night’s Dream is a work that engages the audience from beginning to end. As happened on opening night, at the Saturday matinee there was not just applause but laughter and cheering at every opportunity.

Unfortunately there are no photos from the Canberra production that I can add to this post. The ones sent to media from the Canberra Theatre Centre were from a production in Cairns where the cast was not quite the same!

Michelle Potter, 30 October 2023

Featured image: Four of the eight Rustics in Queensland Ballet’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Photo: © David Kelly