Diamond. Liz Lea and colleagues

My review of Diamond was published online by CBR CityNews on 7 August 2026, following its opening performance in Canberra on 6 August The review below is a slightly enlarged version of the CityNews post. Follow this link to the CityNews review.

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6 August 2026. The Q Theatre, Queabeyan

Diamonds are indestructible; people are not. No matter what media statements might and do say about the brilliance and dazzling complexity of womanhood, for me the idea of destructibility, and its opposite, lies at the heart of Liz Lea’s latest show, Diamond.

Diamond is the second part of a projected dance trilogy. The first was Lea’s 2012 show Red, which took us on a journey through Lea’s career as a dancer battling endometriosis. It had an exceptional reception both in Australia and overseas. Diamond takes us through a new, later stage in Lea’s life, one in which she struggled with the physical and emotional issues she encountered during and after menopause.

The dancing in Diamond was distinctively varied. The show opened with Lea standing centre stage in a sparkling costume—one from the series that has been used everywhere, over and over, as advertisement for the show. During this opening sequence, Lea moved slowly with expressive arms, which nevertheless suggested that age had diminished her ability to undertake complex choreography. She danced with stronger movements at other points throughout the show but much of her input involved sitting on a chair, in a simple, black, body-hugging costume, and speaking about her difficulties as she faced the inevitability of living with an ageing body.

Liz Lea explaining in words some of the issues she encountered during menopause. Diamond, Canberra 2026. Photo: © Olivia Wikner, O&J Wikner Photography

She pulled no punches as she explained those difficulties, with frequent reference to vaginal problems and the life consequences that developed as a result of such issues. From this point of view, Diamond was certainly a courageous show.

The most dancerly moments, however, came from the High Kix dancers from Canberra’s Born Funk studios. These dancers are comparatively young women and they looked fabulous in their blue, feathery outfits, and later dressed in white. They consistently moved beautifully, even with what was relatively simple choreography, and their role in the show allowed us to look back at Lea’s early career as a cabaret dancer.

High Kix dancers performing in Diamond, Canberra 2026. Photo: © Olivia Wikner, O&J Wikner Photography

Then, towards the end of the production, dancers from Canberra Dance Theatre’s GOLD company took the stage, adding dancers older than Lea to the situation. They moved around the stage making attractive groupings rather than dancing anything complex. They too looked fabulous in decorative black and white costumes, including somewhat startling hats. There were even two men involved.

Diamond was stunningly put together as a multi-faceted production. It had exceptional lighting by Karen Norris, as usually happens when Norris is involved. Her input into Diamond was engaging from the beginning, even on the empty stage before the actual performance had started, to the end where an object was placed on the floor and sent out diamond-like rays of light into the auditorium. The diamond rather than the person lives on.

There was also some strikingly structured film input from cinematographer James Hiscutt. It included an absolutely absorbing section where Lea appeared on the backcloth/screen as autumn leaves fell around her body. It was beautifully related to a story Lea spoke about in relation to a request she had from a person who was using her house as a B&B guest. ‘May I sweep up your autumn leaves?’, he asked.

But as a whole Diamond was a production that opened up an area of a woman’s life that perhaps needs not to be made so public, or not with so much confronting speech. Dance can do it without words, or at least on this occasion with fewer words. Then perhaps I am ageing as I disliked the way the subject was constantly and unnecessarily frank in its text? Just dance!

Who knows what the third part of the trilogy will involve?

Michelle Potter, 7 August 2026

Featured image: Liz Lea in the opening moments of Diamond. Queabeyan, 2026. Photo: © Olivia Wikner, O&J Wikner Photography

I was a guest of Liz Lea Productions at this performance.

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3 thoughts on “Diamond. Liz Lea and colleagues

  1. This certainly sounds like a courageous and unconventional project.
    All power to Lea.

    Re the business of dance and text — I would always invite my husband to come on the press ticket to a dance performance whenever I was reviewing. If it was ballet he would politely decline, saying “Invite someone who would appreciate it more. I can’t hear the words” … the joke being, of course, there were no words. ( A Douglas Wright production was always the exception … for that he would book tickets to take the whole family to every performance — our children included, whatever age they were at the time.. He knew chances like that are rare indeed).

    Nowadays one does encounter from time to time spoken text incorporated into choreography
    ( Neumeier’s exquisite Dona Nobis Pacem, for example, when a performer stands downstage centre to speak the words of John Lennon’s poem, Imagine..) — or projections of written text appear (Schermoly’s Stand to Reason, for example).

    I guess it’s a matter of proportion, each case on its merits – and the trust we place in the choreographer.

    Good luck to us all.

  2. Thanks for your comment Jennifer. I have to say I am not opposed to text appearing in dance productions. I’ve seen many works where text has added beautifully to a show.

    I disliked Liz’s insertion of words largely because of the extent of the text, which in my opinion overtook the dancing, and because of the highly personal nature of what was said. Why does anyone think an audience needs or wants to know about a choreographer’s personal vaginal, and related sexual, issues? Not only that, often the words were accompanied by a finger indicating the area being discussed, and in a very obvious way … and so on.

    I made the best effort I could to highlight the positive aspects of the show but there was no way I could ignore the bits that I thought destroyed the production.

  3. I asked AI (yes, I succumbed) how important was media spiel when reviewing a performance. The following was the reply: ‘Media spiel (the promotional narrative, press releases, and marketing angles provided by a production’s publicists) is largely irrelevant to the artistic merit of a performance, but it heavily influences public perception and can trap a reviewer in pre-set expectations.’

    In reviewing Diamond I tried to ignore the ‘over-spiel’ associated with the work. The media was definitely over the top. I have to say, however, that I wrote what I did before looking up AI since I think, always have and always will, that the approach of the critic should not be influenced by the media hype that precedes the performance. AI certainly confirmed my ideas re theatrical criticism.

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