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

25 October 2023. Canberra Theatre

Unmissable!

After all the drama surrounding the life of choreographer Liam Scarlett, leading to his death by suicide in April 2021, what a thrill it was to see a restaging of his exceptional work, A Midsummer Night’s Dream—a joint production between Queensland Ballet and Royal New Zealand Ballet. It was first seen in New Zealand in 2015 and then in Brisbane in 2016. How lucky we are that Li Cunxin has seen fit to have it staged again by Queensland Ballet.

Scarlett’s work, somewhat rearranged from the play of the same name by William Shakespeare, juxtaposes two worlds—that of a fairy realm led by Oberon and Titania as King and Queen, who are squabbling over a changeling child; and a mortal world inhabited by rustics and a group of ‘explorers’ (so to speak) who enter a forest clearing inhabited by the fairies. The love lives of the ‘explorers’ become a little muddled when Oberon’s apprentice, Puck, receives instructions from Oberon to help with his squabble with Titania.

The forest setting is spectacularly designed by Tracy Lord Grant with strings of lights, stylised flora, a bridge among the tree tops, exotic tent-style dwellings for the fairy folk, and then some down-to-earth tents for the explorers. She is also responsible for the remarkable and beautifully coloured costumes. The work is lit with style by Kendall Smith.

Scarlett’s choreography is quite individualistic. It is beautifully musical with individual steps that are sometimes so small and fast that it is almost ‘blink and you miss them’. Then he invents lifts that are unlike anything we have seen before; he combines turns and jumps in unusual ways; he creates group movements that seem just perfect for the moment; and his choreography always matches the nature of the characters in the work. On this last mentioned issue, the group choreography for the rustics is a perfect example—it is, well, just rustically unsophisticated!

Victor Estévez as Oberon in *A Midsummer Night’s Dream*. Queensland Ballet, 2016. Photo: © David Kelly

The dancers of Queensland Ballet danced brilliantly, as we have come to expect these days. Victor Estévez was a rather solemn Oberon but I loved seeing him lurking in the background (often on the treetop bridge) keeping an eye on what Puck was doing. Lucy Green handled the role of Titania with ease and the pas de deux between her and Estévez at the end of the work, when their differences had been resolved, was full of love and even a bit of sexiness. The four ‘explorers’, Mia Heathcote as Hermia, Alexander Idaszak as Lysander, Georgia Swan as Helena and Vito Bernasconi as Demetrius, engaged our attention throughout, while Rian Thompson as Bottom was memorable especially after the spell linking him and Titania had been broken and he struggled (choreographically) to understand what had happened.

While it is a hard task to single out individual performers in a show where the standard of performance is so high, Kohei Iwamato as Puck needs a special mention. Apart from the fact that he danced with spectacular leaps, great turns and detailed choreographic focus, the facial and physical expression that he used to give depth to his character was remarkable. I also found Georgia Swan truly engaging as the slightly crazy Helena. There was a lovely moment, after she and Demetrius had come together, when Demetrius took out a pair of glasses to show Helena that he too wore glasses.

This was my second look at Scarlett’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream after seeing it in Brisbane in 2016. As often happens with dance productions, the second viewing brought out things that I hadn’t noticed to such an extent the first time. Apart from the comic angle which hadn’t seemed so obvious before, I was entranced by the way every single character had an individuality, even when dancing as a group. The fairies and the rustics brought this out really well.

A truly unmissable show and I look forward to another viewing.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream continues at the Canberra Theatre until Saturday 28 October. If you miss it in Canberra, it is part of Queensland Ballet’s 2024 season and plays at Queensland Performing Arts Centre’s Playhouse from 12–27 April. See this link for more information about that 2024 season. It will also be restaged by Royal New Zealand Ballet 24 October–14 December beginning in Wellington. See this link.
Update: Here is a link to my second viewing in Canberra.

Michelle Potter, 26 October 2023

Postscript: At the post performance event following the opening night of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in Canberra both Alex Budd, director of the Canberra Theatre Centre, and Li Cunxin mentioned in their speeches the move currently underway to build a new and enlarged theatre space for the Canberra Theatre Centre. Both spoke of the size of the current main stage and the difficulties associated with staging some performances on it. The size of the Canberra stage has been an issue for some time now and a new stage is a terrific development. But I have to say that Li Cunxin managed to fit Midsummer onto the current stage just brilliantly even though he admitted there had to be some adjustments. He said when asked that he never says ‘No I can’t do it.’ He always finds a way. Well that’s Li. He succeeds where others can’t be bothered trying.

Li also seized the opportunity to speak about another important issue—government funding for Queensland Ballet, which he says is minimal compared to funding for other major dance companies in Australia. This is a situation that needs to be changed. Under Li Cunxin and Mary Li the company has grown in size; has become more adventurous than ever; has built new and hugely responsive audiences; has brought major sponsors on board, has built a new home for Queensland Ballet (including a theatre), and now the company has a standard of performance that is hard to beat anywhere. That it has been unable to garner funding that recognises its place as a world class company is outrageous. We need to lobby those who are in a position to bring about change.

Featured image: Queensland Ballet in a moment from Liam Scarlett’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, 2023. Photo: © Nathan Kelly

Chi Udaka. Lingalayam and TaikOz

19 October 2023. Drama Theatre, Sydney Opera House

Chi Udaka was an outstanding collaborative venture between Lingalayam, a company directed by Australian-Indian dancer Anandavalli, and TaikOz, an Australian music group co-founded by Ian Cleworth and Riley Lee and currently directed by Cleworth. The show focused on Anandavalli’s interest in the two Indian classical dance styles of Bharata Natyam and Kuchipudi, and the intrinsic interest of TaikOz on drumming but with that interest extending to other instruments, especially the shakuhachi and, on this occasion, to the sounds of the cello of John Napier. Chi Udaka is not a new production but this 2023 presentation was part of the 50th anniversary celebrations of the Sydney Opera House. And the show itself was beautifully celebratory in its inspiring combination of music and dance.

‘Chi’ means earth in Japanese and ‘Udaka’ means water in Sanskrit so the production juxtaposed these two ideas with the story taking place within one day from early morning to late evening, although the focus was not really on a strong narrative structure but rather, at least for me, on artistic collaboration. Nevertheless, it began with a kind of meditation in the early light of morning, with a rare and welcome appearance by Anandavalli who introduced a rhythmic element with chanting and the playing of small hand held instruments, and who eventually rang a bell to announce the beginning of the day. It concluded with Anandavalli closing the show with a gathering together of the cast in a kind of closing communion, accompanied by singing from vocalist Aruna Parthiban.

Between these opening and closing moments the dancing and music were exceptional. The dancers, stunningly dressed in saris designed by Anandavalli, moved with close attention to the detailed movements of bodies, hands and feet of the classical Indian styles, and with extraordinary lyricism between individual movements. A highlight was a duet between one dancer and Riley Lee on the shakuhachi, but every combination of dancer and musician, and there were many different combinations, was transforming to watch and hear.

And can drummers dance? They certainly can. They were completely involved both in the very physical way they engaged with their instruments, and in their awareness that they were part of an overall production. They were just brilliant. But then so was Riley Lee with his shakuhachi and other flute-like instruments, as was John Napier with his cello.

A scene from *Chi Udaka*. Photo from the TaikOz website. Photographer not identified.

The overall ambience of the work was quite evocative of time and place, changing as the work progressed with a particularly strong contribution from lighting designer Karen Norris. It was in all a show that brought huge pleasure and a renewed interest in what dance and music can achieve together.

The complete work (from a 2016 production) is available on Vimeo at this link.

Michelle Potter, 23 October 2023

Featured Image: Promotional image for Chi Udaka from the Sydney Opera House website. Photographer not identified.

Platinum. Royal New Zealand Ballet

13 October 2023. St. James Theatre, Wellington
reviewed by Jennifer Shennan

Platinum is a dense, malleable, ductile, highly unreactive, precious, silverish-white transition metal. It has remarkable resistance to corrosion, even at high temperatures, and is therefore considered a noble metal. It is the traditional gift used to mark the 70 year anniversary of a relationship.

That makes Platinum a well-chosen title for this single performance in the Company’s home theatre of St. James, Wellington. The 70 year legacy of this intrepid little troupe of dancers reaches back to the legendary Poul Gnatt, and equally heroic Russell Kerr and Jon Trimmer, among many others. That mantle now falls on younger shoulders to maintain the morale, health and welfare of the dancers, as of us all, for the next 70 years.

The program comprised four group works, six pas de deux and two solos, each of which will have been somebody’s favourite.

The opening work, Te Ao Mārama, by Moss Patterson, on his whakapapa (lineage), seen in the Company’s recent Lightscapes program, maintains its integrity in a strong haka taparahi performance by the all-male cast. Later in the program an all-female cast performed Stand To Reason, Andrea Shermoly’s impressive tribute, as strong as any haka, to the Suffragette pioneers. Two male solos, Val Caniparoli’s Aria, a striking work to Handel, and Mark Baldwin’s Nobody Takes Me Seriously to the rhythmically lively song by Split Enz, were both stylishly performed.

(left) Joshua Douglas (a student at New Zealand School of Dance) in *Aria*; (right) Shaun James Kelly in *Nobody Takes Me Seriously*. *Platinum*, Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2023. Photos: © Stephen A’Court

There is real challenge for a pas de deux to capture the style and context of its full-length parent work, though the Don Quixote and Black Swan items did achieve this admirably. We saw Mayu Tanigaito in both, shining as a dancer of highest calibre, her fabulous technique always serving interpretation, never the other way around.

Mayu Tanigaito and Laurynas Véjalis *Black Swan*. *Platinum*, Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Sara Garbowski in the Act 2 excerpt from Giselle gave an exquisitely poetic performance with beautifully judged dynamics and phrasing of movement. This was from the celebrated production by Ethan Stiefel and Johan Kobborg in 2012, followed by the outstanding feature film directed by Toa Fraser—the best film the Company has ever produced of its repertoire. It’s worth noting that the recording here was by Orchestra Wellington conducted by Michael Lloyd, so the music’s calibre for dancing was guaranteed.

I will confess my concern at the poor amplification of the music accompaniment for several of the other items, however. Does the St. James Theatre need to invest in installation of a better quality sound system?

Unusually, none of the items carried a staging credit. The Bournonville works, Flower Festival in Genzano and La Sylphide, were challenged to capture the distinctive technique and vivacious style of the Danish heritage that this company inherited from Poul Gnatt all those decades ago.

Laurynas Véjalis (left) and Kirby Selchow in moments from *La Sylphide*. *Platinum*, Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2023. Photos: © Stephen A’Court

The final work, for full company, was a premiere—Prismatic, choreographed by Shaun James Kelly, a tribute to the Company’s landmark work, Prismatic Variations, made by Russell Kerr and Poul Gnatt in 1959. There was an attractive energy, personality and enthusiasm from this cast, with a spirited final image of a dancer poised aloft high above all the group, suggesting airborne hope. It was in considerable contrast to the original choreography, five couples in a work of abstract, astringent and timeless classicism, echoing the geometric design of backcloth by Raymond Boyce.

The music—Brahm’s Variations on Haydn’s St Anthony Chorale—always seemed to flood the auditorium with joy and elation. Here in a recording by the Berlin Philharmonic, conducted by Herbert von Karajan, you would expect no less, but again the theatre’s amplification seemed unable to offer the exhilaration we remember as an intrinsic part of the choreography.

It seemed a missed moment not to have brought on stage the incoming Artistic Director, Ty King-Wall, and the new Executive Director, Tobias Perkins, so we could welcome them—and also thank the outgoing Interim Artistic Director, David McAllister, for having stabilised the Company during its transition year.

Roses are the traditional flowers to mark 70 years and even one bouquet would have brought a sense of occasion and celebration to the stage full of talent. Instead, I came home and picked at midnight the single rose left in my windswept garden to place in a vase, as gratitude for seven decades of dancers who always gave and give their all.

Three talisman photos grace the printed program—Mayu Tanigaito and Laurynas Véjalis in Black Swan pas de deux; Patricia Rianne and Jon Trimmer in the 1978 production of The Sleeping Beauty; Russell Kerr and June Kerr in Prismatic Variations, 1960. Roses to them all.

Jennifer Shennan, 15 October 2023

Featured image: Scene from Shaun James Kelly’s Prismatic. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Yummy. The Chaos Project, QL2 Dance

13 October 2023. Canberra College Theatre

This review is a slightly expanded version of one that appeared in CBR City News, digital edition, 14 October 2023. The review published there is at this link.

Change is in the air at QL2 Dance, Canberra’s esteemed youth dance organisation. This year’s Chaos Project, an annual event bringing together dancers of various levels of experience, was largely managed by Alice Lee Holland. Holland is currently Associate Artistic Director at QL2 Dance and will take over as Artistic Director in 2024 when longstanding Director Ruth Osborne retires from the role, a position she has held since 1999.

Chaos 2023, produced by Emma Batchelor, had the overarching title of Yummy. It looked at five tastes that we all, or most of us, have experienced in our lives: salt, umami, bitter, acetic and sweet, with each taste represented by a separate segment created by a different choreographer. On the surface it seemed a conceptually difficult topic for dance. How does one dance bitter? Or acetic? But what seemed like a problem was nicely solved with a voice-over, spoken by Liz Lea, that introduced each taste.

Umami, choreographed by Holland, had an interesting spoken introduction that explained the origins of the term and its Japanese origins. But the most engrossing of these spoken sections was that for Acetic. It was highly technical in content and often scarcely understandable to a non-scientific ear. But, when the dancing began, the concept was clearly visible in the movement envisioned by choreographer Patricia Hayes Kavanagh, with the dancers giving their impressions of tasting an acidic item.

Scene from *Acetic* in *Yummy*. The Chaos Project QL2 Dance, 2023. Photo: © Lorna Sim

From the point of view of dance technique, the strongest section was Bitter choreographed by Ruth Osborne and performed by eight senior dancers. The use of the stage space was beautifully handled with at times small groups of dancers taking a prominent place, while at others all eight dancers spread across the space, dancing individually.

Scene from *Bitter* in *Yummy*. The Chaos Project QL2 Dance, 2023. Photo: © Lorna Sim

But every section had its high points from the very young dancers who made up most of the cast for A Pinch of Salt choreographed by Olivia Wikner, to the mixed-age group dressed variously in pinkish hues who occasionally drifted off to sleep from an overdose of sugar in Sweet choreographed by Jason Pearce. Sweet had a number of highlights including the sudden appearance of bright pink concentric circles of light that briefly transformed the stage floor (lighting design was by Alice Lee Holland and the choreographers). It also had engaging choreography that often highlighted younger dancers being lifted in various ways by older performers. With A Pinch of Salt I especially enjoyed those moments when a dancer stepped forward to tell us an important fact about salt!

Scene from *Sweet* in *Yummy*. The Chaos Project QL2 Dance, 2023. Photo: © Lorna Sim

But what of changes in the air? Musically Yummy sounded quite different from previous Chaos events. The diverse selection of music ranged from Vivaldi as recomposed by Max Richter to a selection from the avant-folk group, pigbaby. I also enjoyed the change from one segment to another, which was different on each occasion and included some unexpected moments when Acetic transitioned to Sweet. To my surprise, sugary dancers entered and physically removed acidy dancers from the stage. One such moment even drew a laugh (of surprise and pleasure) when a dancer ran quickly from one side of the stage towards the other and in a flash, almost as he reached the wings, picked up a young dancer, lifted him high into the air and carried him into the wings.

Aspects of the curtain calls were also somewhat new. For the closing moments, all the dancers were costumed alike rather than in the costumes worn for individual segments—costume coordination was by Natalie Wade. There was no issue at all when the dancers came forward in groups to take their bows— recognition of who had appeared in what was instantaneous. That must say something about the standard of the performance!

The Chaos Project has been a longstanding aspect of the QL2 Dance program. It looks set to continue as an event to enjoy as Alice Lee Holland begins her transition from Associate Artistic Director to the leader of QL2 Dance.

Michelle Potter, 14 October 2023

Featured image: The start of the curtain calls for Yummy. Almost a chaos (a purposeful one). Photo: © Lorna Sim

Swan Lake. The Australian Ballet (2023)

Digital screening, September–October (filmed on 29 September 2023 during the Melbourne season of Swan Lake)

I am not a huge fan of this latest production of Swan Lake from the Australian Ballet—a version directed by artistic director David Hallberg but based on the 1970s production by Anne Woolliams with dramaturgy and a little extra choreography from Lucas Jervies.

On a positive note, the corps de ballet of 26 swans danced as a group with exceptional precision. Whether they were making and holding a line, a circle, a V-shape as in the opening to Act IV, or any other shape for that matter, their groupings were beautifully precise. And their dancing was in unison to the extent that, for example, they usually managed to lift their legs in arabesque to the same height as each other, and execute other steps with amazing togetherness. The four little swans—Evie Ferris, Jill Ogai, Aya Watanabe and Yuumi Yamada—stood out with regard to this unison and precision. It was pure perfection.

Then there were the costumes by Mara Blumenfeld. They were exceptional in design, colour and cut. I especially admired the costumes for the character dances, and the very elegant black and white striped suit worn by von Rothbart in ACT III, befitting a Baron I thought.

But that’s about all the positivity I can muster.

I found the production quite lacking in emotional content. While in his between-acts spiel on this streaming platform Hallberg made much of the partnership between Benedicte Bemet as Odette/Odile and Joseph Caley as Prince Siegfried, and while technically they danced well both separately and together, I could not feel or see any passion, or even affection, between them. And there was certainly no changing emotion visible as the situation between them changed. Ballet is a wordless art but when there is a narrative, as there definitely is in Swan Lake, the story has to be clear and prominent enough in a physical sense for the audience to see and understand the narrative, even if, as in the case of Swan Lake, so many of us have seen it so many times that we have a clear idea already about the storyline. Clarity of narrative and the changing of emotions can be achieved by a simple movement of the head, a lift of the arm that is different from what went before, or something quite simple. But it has to be a physical change that we as the audience can notice and feel, not just a thought in the dancer’s head.

Then I was taken aback by the character dances in Act III. There were three (one each from Spain, Hungary and Italy) rather than the more usual four and they were danced largely without any of the passion that characterises national dancing. Everything seemed to be angled towards a perfect, balletic technique—mostly with the frame of the body held erect and little expression in a physical sense or even through facial expression. Character dances are full of physical expression and theatricality growing from a pride by the characters (as played by the dancers) in a particular heritage.

Perhaps my dislike of this Swan Lake reflects a remark made by Lucas Jervies when speaking to Hallberg and Livinia Nixon in the conversations between acts as part of the streaming. Jervies mentioned that Hallberg asked for the production to be ‘boiled down and refined’, and Hallberg confirmed that this was his aim. The ‘boiling down’ just took everything away. A strong (refined?) focus on technique and little else doesn’t make a theatrical production. At least not for me.

I have a subscription ticket to see this Swan Lake in Sydney towards the end of the season there. Perhaps I will feel differently then?

Michelle Potter, 2 October 2023

Featured image: A moment from Swan Lake. The Australian Ballet, 2023. Photo: © Kate Longley

Strictly Gershwin (2023). Queensland Ballet and collaborators

28 September 2023. Lyric Theatre, Queensland Performing Arts Centre, Brisbane

Absolutely stunning!

From the brilliant performances by the dancers—in ballet, tap, ballroom and other forms—to the exciting and emotionally moving sound of the orchestra and singers (all onstage); from the lighting that made the whole look as if being performed within a second proscenium, to the background screen featuring assorted references to the Gershwin era, Strictly Gershwin was probably the most thrillingly presented and spectacularly performed show I have seen this year

Choreographed by Derek Deane in 2008 for English National Ballet and first presented by Queensland Ballet in 2016, Strictly Gershwin pays tribute to brothers George and Ira Gershwin and their contribution to the ‘big band’ era of the 1930s. In his program notes Deane remarks on the pleasure he experienced in being able to create the work: ‘I was free from the restrictions of the purely classical ballets and was able to experiment more choreographically with all the different dance styles in the production.’ And it is partly this diversity of dance styles that makes the production so fascinating.

Deane does, however, admit to including ‘two complete small ballets’ in the total show, one of which, Rhapsody in Blue, provided two highlights for me. Rhapsody in Blue opened part two of the production, ‘Gershwin in Hollywood’. Rhapsody was made for three couples and a corps de ballet and I was especially impressed with the women in the corps whose beautifully held upper bodies, tilted back slightly when they were in a kneeling position, and their ability to dance almost perfectly together, was outstanding. But the absolute standout dancer was the leading male dancer in Rhapsody, Patricio Revé. He partnered Neneka Yoshida and, whether in his partnering or in his solo work, he was absolutely committed to making every move full of meaning and emotion. The variety of his physical and facial expressions throughout was exceptional and it was hard to take my eyes off him.

Patricio Revé in *Rhapsody in Blue*, 2023. Photo: © David Kelly

But of course there were many other highlights. The two tap dancers, Kris Kerr and Bill Simpson, who also appeared with Queensland Ballet in 2016, were as amazing as ever and their performance with Rachael Walsh and ten other dancers in Oh, Lady be Good was another highlight.

Rachael Walsh (centre) and tap dancers in *Oh, Lady be Good*, 2023. Photo: © David Kelly

I have to mention, too, Lina Kim and Rian Thompson who danced so well together in Someone to Watch Over Me (as they also did in 2016). Their lyricism throughout and the beautiful lifts they performed, unexpectedly different from what we might be used to seeing, made watching them such a pleasure and, with the added singing of Nina Korbe standing at the side of the stage, it was a special collaborative section.

Rian Thompson and Lina Kim in *Someone to Watch Over Me*, 2023. © David Kelly

So many other special moments: Mia Heathcote throughout, Georgia Swan and Vito Bernasconi in Shall We Dance?, Yanela Piñera and Camilo Ramos (also from the 2016 cast) in the sexy It Ain’t Necessarily So, and so many others…

Yanela Piñera and Camilo Ramos in *It Ain’t Necessarily So*, 2023, © David Kelly

The music for Strictly Gershwin was played by Queensland Symphony Orchestra with a solo piano section in Rhapsody in Blue from guest artist Daniel Le. The costumes, every one of which was eye-catching to put it mildly, were by Roberta Guidi di Bagno and Howard Harrison’s original lighting was revived by Cameron Goerg and Ben Hughes. Then there was the conductor, Michael England, who often danced along himself (while still conducting). What a show! How lucky we were to be able to see it again!

Michelle Potter, 29 September 2023

Featured image: Lucy Green and Victor Estévez (centre) with Georgia Swan and Vito Bernasconi, and Laura Tosar and Alexander Idaszak in the opening scene from Strictly Ballroom, 2023. Photo: © David Kelly

(m)Orpheus. New Zealand Opera & Black Grace

20 September 2023. Opera House, Wellington
reviewed by Jennifer Shennan

This extraordinary production, (m)Orpheus, by New Zealand Opera & Black Grace, is billed as a re-imagining of Christoph Gluck’s 18th century opera, Orfeo ed Euridice. The program note calls it a dance-opera collision—which it is, but it’s also a great deal more than that.

Indeed, the whole enterprise is a five-point star—visionary and innovative direction and choreography by Neil Ieremia, a totally stunning set and costume design by Tracy Grant-Lord, a skilful re-orchestration of Gluck’s original by composer Gareth Farr played by a chamber ensemble conducted by Marc Taddei, beautiful singing delivered by three fine soloists and a wonderful eight member Chorus, and inspired dancing by members of Black Grace contemporary dance company. They all melded into the spirit life of a production that could only have been realised in Pasifika-Aotearoa New Zealand. Some of the text was sung in English, some in Samoan. For us there were shivers, some tears, some laughter, grief, solace, and an alchemy of life and death, not as opposites but as a spectrum to be celebrated. That’s some achievement for a night at the opera. It was then, it is now, it is us, we are here. Manuia lau malaga (Samoan: ‘Farewell in your journey’).*

Farr made much inventive use of unconventional instruments—including marimba, and saxophone in his scoring. Much pizzicato from violins, together with the softened sounds of marimba, lent a subtle percussive effect as suited the Samoan dimension of the production but also honoured Gluck completely. The guitar, beautifully played by Gunter Herbig, was Orfeo’s lyre come to life.

Samson Setu singing Orpheus was a beautifully steady and centred presence throughout, his rich and resonant voice effortlessly delivered as he avoided any operatic extravagance. Deborah Wai Kapohe was perfectly cast as Euridice and reminded me of korimako/bellbird.

Madison Nonoa as Amor totally relished her role and played it to the max, hilarious and poignant by turns. In these three stellar performers the singers were greatly indebted to Tracy Grant Lord’s staggeringly wonderful set design of this world/underworld, but you’ll get no spoiler alerts from me.

(left) Dancers from Black Grace echo the characters of Orpheus and Euridice; (right) Deborah Wai Kapohe as Euridice and Samson Setu as Orpheus. Photos: © Andi Crown

A relatively small chorus of eight singers, Samoan and Maori, nonetheless filled the stage with sounds you didn’t want to end. They did Gluck proud, and also ‘morphed’ into Samoan dances of great grace and joy—siva was there, sasa, fa’a taupati and taualuga were there.

The dancers performed enchanting lyrical and impressively rhythmic sequences in and around the Chorus so the two arts were seamlessly joined. (In the Pacific music and dance were never separated anyway). The choreography throughout was layered—sometimes the dancers joining the moving Chorus, at other times dancing a duo to affirm in exquisite duplication the emotional journey of Orpheus and Euridice.

My only quibble for the evening concerned the printed program-no bios for the performers, and very small but shiny typeface on a black background. Impossible to read in the theatre, and quite a challenge at home too.

This production has already had an Auckland season with a different musical team. Here in Wellington is a three show season over four nights. deserves to be seen far and wide. The large audience was hugely enthusiastic, and I think Gluck would have been too

Jennifer Shennan, 21 September 2023

Featured image: Scene from (m)Orpheus, 2023. Dancers from Black Grace, chorus from NZ Opera. Photo: © Andi Crown

*As the dirt and flowers are tossed into the grave, sentiments of – ia manuia lau malaga; ‘farewell in your journey‘ – are echoed by mourners as they release their beloved member. Samoan people maintain the essential belief that death is not a final ending.

The Sleeping Beauty. Royal Czech Ballet

17 September 2023 (matinee). Canberra Theatre Centre

The Canberra Theatre, the main one, not the smaller Playhouse, was jam-packed for this performance of The Sleeping Beauty. Scarcely a seat was empty and those that were empty were dotted here and there around the auditorium and seemed to have been meant for people who, for some reason, were not able to make it after all. It was an exceptionally popular show and, given that it was a matinee performance, attracted a bevy of little girls and boys and grandparents!

The Sleeping Beauty is a ballet that tells the well-known story of Princess Aurora who eventually marries Prince Desiré—sometimes known as Prince Florimund. The marriage happens only after an eventful and unwanted connection with an Evil Fairy (Carabosse). It is basically a story about the triumph of good over evil and there are of course many different approaches to the ballet, which was first performed in St Petersburg in 1890 with choreography by Marius Petipa. Almost every major company has a Sleeping Beauty in its repertoire. Some productions say that choreography is ‘after Petipa’, others don’t. Some choreographers have presented a ‘re-imagined’ version—Mathew Bourne’s production springs to mind. This website contains reviews of productions from the Royal Ballet, Queensland Ballet, Matthew Bourne’s company, the Australian Ballet and Royal New Zealand Ballet and I couldn’t help wondering where the Royal Czech Ballet’s production would fit.

The first thing to mention is that Royal Czech Ballet’s version is a scaled back production. The Sleeping Beauty usually has a large cast of dancers many of whom take on a lot of small roles in various crowd scenes. But the Royal Czech Ballet is a small company of around 26 dancers so scenes like the 16th birthday of Aurora and her eventual wedding to Prince Desiré looked a little sparse. I was curious about the choreography too. Some looked very much in the ‘Petipa style’ with its structured lines and groupings of dancers. This was especially noticeable in the choreography for and dancing by the corps de ballet in the early scenes. Some sections were quite familiar in both a choreographic and narrative sense—the Rose Adagio, for example, where at her 16th birthday Aurora dances with four suitors; and the Bluebird pas de deux and variations in the wedding scene. Other sections looked very different from what we have seen in other productions.

Technically I was somewhat disappointed in what I saw. Too many of the cast were not focusing on pointed feet, turned out knees, the lyricism that is needed to join one step to another, nor on other similarly basic matters. And that included the principals I saw as Aurora and Prince Desiré. The standout dancer for me was the Lilac Fairy, soloist Ana Oleinic. Her ability to connect with the audience was commendable and, as a result, my eyes were constantly drawn to her. Not many of the other dancers were able to make that connection, despite that they were often smiling.

The costumes (I’m not sure who the designer was) were quite startling. Especially remarkable was the black, gold and sequined outfit worn by Carabosse. In addition, I was taken by the tutus for the Fairies and other female dancers. They were beautifully decorative.

While I think that this production is not one that will suit many diehard ballet goers, the storyline of the Royal Czech Ballet’s Sleeping Beauty is easy to follow and the production is visually striking. The final curtain fell to loud applause and the art of ballet is not just for diehard fans.

Michelle Potter, 18 September 2023

David McAllister, 2019. Photo: Georges Antoni

Ballet Confidential and Soar. Books by David McAllister

Ballet Confidential
by David McAllister
[Thames & Hudson, 2023]

Soar
by David McAllister with Amanda Dunn
[Thames & Hudson, 2021—also available as an e-book]

Books reviewed by Jennifer Shennan

David McAllister has through this year, 2023, been Acting Artistic Director of Royal New Zealand Ballet—to oversee the process of appointing a permanent Artistic Director, and to stabilise the management situation after both the previous directors, Executive and Artistic, had departed suddenly from their positions at Company.

It’s therefore been timely to be reading Ballet Confidential, to learn about McAllister’s own long-term career as a dancer, then his even longer term as Artistic Director, with the Australian Ballet. As well there is his earlier and more personal memoir, Soar, written with Amanda Dunn, both books published by Thames & Hudson.

McAllister’s writing is eminently accessible, conversational in tone, addressing the reader directly. He keeps a friendly, light, honest and humorous touch throughout—giving the welcome impression that he takes his art, but not himself, seriously. There is sincere respect for the dancers whose dedication and discipline is the seminal part of any company’s achievements—as well as insights into the management and governance responsibilities involved in directing that river of talent.

McAllister is out to debunk the reputation of ballet as an elite theatre art that entices only its afficionados, and he offers numerous encouragements to those who think ballet is strictly for the birds, who don’t attend performances because they ‘can’t hear the words’ to instead give it a go.

New Zealand readers who have followed the fortunes of our own national company across its 70 years cannot help but compare the scale of company size and resources for dance between the two countries. The Australian Ballet has become a flagship company for its country with a number of high-profile and successful international tours to its credit. Our own company has not toured internationally for a number of years (not a Covid-related phenomenon) but anyone who pays attention to the fortunes and woes of ballet companies worldwide will nonetheless know ours as a stalwart and determined 7 decades-long endeavour that has served drama, joy, vivacity, solace, style and beauty to its home audiences.

Ballet Confidential is not intended as a scholarly history of ballet—but it certainly contains much of interest as McAllister traces some of the seminal figures who have featured in Australia’s dancing life. (In this regard I’d have valued an Index for the book—since Soar does include a very good one, and has photos of very high quality on dedicated paper).

The reader can also recognise telling comparisons with New Zealand in other areas—particularly in the acknowledgment of First Peoples’ prominence in historical, cultural and social identity. There is also the issue of the resources given to sport across its many codes, with all the touring of teams and spectators alike, and the wealth of domestic and international media coverage beyond compare. Ever positive in his thinking, McAllister nonetheless points out the striking progress across the past few years in elite sports training, injury prevention and management that are such a near and present issue for sportsfolk and dancers alike, and that the relevant medical practitioners have been able to share their approaches to the challenges common to both callings.

It is wonderful to be reminded of AB’s major seasons of commissioned full-length choreographies. Graeme Murphy is the shining star in the firmament there—with his extraordinary Nutcracker: The Story of Clara, and the celebrated Swan Lake. (Lucky those of us who crossed the Tasman to see the latter—and top marks to those who made the feature film of Clara, so we have been able to see that too. It’s available for viewing on Vimeo through AB website).

David tells the story of being a young dancer in his first year at the Company, 1983, cast in Le Conservatoire, the Bournonville work staged by Poul Gnatt on Australian Ballet. (He had earlier staged it on the Australian Ballet School during the 1960s). David enjoys the symmetry and longevity of that association through being Interim AD of the company Gnatt founded here in 1953—’so Poul is still giving me the chance to do something worthwhile all these decades later’.

The announcement just last week of the new Artistic Director of RNZBallet, Ty King-Wall, a New Zealander with many years’ experience in Australian Ballet, is most welcome, and my heart skipped a beat of joy (is that what a cardiologist would say?) to read in King-Wall’s profile that he has danced lead roles in Bournonville choreographies over the years, so he understands the technique and style of our company’s original tradition.

There are other names to slip in here of the ballet links between our two countries and two companies—apart from van Praagh and Gnatt, and Borovanksy before them—that includes sharing Bryan Ashbridge, Jon Trimmer, Jacqui Trimmer, Harry Haythorne, Roy Wilson, Susan Elston, Fiona Tonkin, Graeme Murphy, Jane Casson, Martin James, Adrian Burnett, David McAllister, and now Ty King-Wall with his dancing wife, Amber Scott. These are ties that bind.

Jennifer Shennan, 17 September 2023

Featured image: David McAllister, 2019. Photo: Georges Antoni

Kiku. A short dance film from Itazura Co

11 August 2023. Arc Cinema, National Film and Sound Archive, Canberra

Kiku, a film choreographed and directed by Japanese-Australian artist Natsuko Yonezawa of Itazura Co, had its premiere showing on 11 August to a sold-out, very enthusiastic audience at the National Film and Sound Archive’s Arc Cinema. I was taken aback when I realised the theatre was chock-a-block. I have never seen that theatre so crowded!

Natsuko Yonezawa during the filming of *Kiku*. Photo: © Andrew Sikorski

Kiku was danced by six women aged between 59 and 74—Suzannah Salojarvi, Vilaisan Campbell, Jane Ingall, Anne Embry, Sue Andrews, and Julie (Jules) Rickwood. It set out to examine the notion of ageing and, in particular, the individual journeys of each of the dancers across the decades of their lives. It began with constantly changing groupings of the six dancers in which they linked up with each other in a variety of ways, most often using arms and hands to wrap themselves around each other, or to extend the space each grouping occupied.

Throughout the work, the dancers often held their hands together at the wrist and then, keeping the wrists touching, opened their hands and spread their fingers as if a flower was blooming. The word ‘kiku’ in Japanese means ‘listen’ and/or ‘chrysanthemum’, but perhaps even more relevant in relation to this work is the fact that Yonezawa was inspired not just by the concept of ageing, but by Makoto Azuma, a Japanese flower artist and botanical sculptor. In his work, I discovered, Azuma groups flowers together so that they merge with each other, twisting this way and that. Yonezawa worked in a similar fashion with her dancers.

Following the opening group sections, each dancer had a solo. But following those solos, the dancers began regrouping in various arrangements. I was especially taken by a section that seemed to be in 3D as three groups, each consisting of two dancers, took up positions along a horizontal line in the performing space. The eyes of the audience were able to follow a line to a vanishing point as each group grew smaller along the line. Videographer was Trent Houssenloge and lighting designer was Craig Dear. Both added exceptional effects to the work.

(left) Julie (Jules) Rickwood and (right) Vilaisan Campbell in a scene from *Kiku*. Photos: © Andrew Sikorski

Kiku was danced to a commissioned soundtrack from Rebecca Hilliard sung by members of the ANU Chamber Choir and Luminescence Children’s Choir.

The film was followed by a documentary created in the homes of the six dancers. In this short documentary the dancers explained in words something of their journey through life, and their approach to dance and ageing. The documentary was also beautifully filmed with the occasional look beyond the dancers to items within or outside the homes—two galahs drinking from a birdbath, a close-up of sunflowers, for example. The evening finished with a Q & A session moderated by Marlēné Claudine Radice, a composer and performer who acted as MC throughout the evening.

Despite the documentary and Q & A, which had their interesting moments, it was Kiku the film that was the highlight of the night. It was a stunning creation and one that developed the art of collaboration to an exceptional level.

Michelle Potter, 12 August 2023

Miscellaneous matters
Itazura means ‘mischief’ in Japanese. According to Yonezawa, Itazura Co is ‘the home of mischievous performance art’.

Kiku is the last work Natsuko Yonezawa will make in Australia for the moment. She is about to head to London where she will undertake a Master’s degree in Performance: Design and Practice at Central Saint Martins, University of the Arts.