Macbeth. Royal New Zealand Ballet

25 February 2026. St James Theatre, Wellington

Alice Topp’s version of Macbeth begins, as does the Shakespearean play itself, with three characters interacting with each other. They are witches in Shakespeare’s play, but called influencers in Topp’s ballet and, while Shakespeare’s witches are ‘serious’ individuals, the influencers are hilarious and somewhat crazy persons with phones that they frequently use. They are also (apparently) people with social media accounts.

The three influencers, (l-r) Shaun James Kelly, KIrby Selchow and Ruby Ryburn. *Macbeth*, Royal New Zealand Ballet 2026. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

This difference at the very beginning marks where Topp’s production sits in relation to her approach to the Shakesperean Macbeth story. She puts before us, dramatically at all times, the concepts that Shakespeare develops—power, ambition, determination, the disintegration of those concepts as time passes, and more— but she puts those concepts in a different era.

Choreographically Topp has created a work that moves in a fast and furious manner, which has audience members on the edge of their seats for two hours. It’s not a relaxing night at the theatre! But it certainly holds one’s attention for those two hours (and even after the two hours are over). Her characters mostly share the names of the Shakesperean characters and have relationships that are similar to their Shakesperean counterparts. But Topp’s characters are different human beings. They belong to a contemporary era and certainly display an opulence that makes their ambitions credible. But, nevertheless, we see, as in the play, that Macbeth’s desire to rule is strong, and with input from Lady Macbeth we see his way of bringing to a deathly end those who stand in the way of his achieving his desired goal.

Macbeth is filled, as we have come to expect from Topp, with exceptional pas de deux work, especially between the main characters. The lifts she creates continue to surprise in the way the dancers make use of the space around the two bodies, and I was taken by the way the men held the women (something I hadn’t really fully noticed before). It’s not just around the waist!

In addition to male/female duets there were several occasions when two male characters danced together. These moments were equally as spectacular. There were also group sections when the various characters danced together. These sections were also quite fast and mostly highly animated.

One of the strongest moments for me, however, was the death of Lady Macbeth whom we see sleepwalking, talking to herself and trying to remove blood stains from her hands (‘out, damned spot’ according to Shakespeare). We watch as she drinks a concocted liquid and dies in her bathtub, the very place we had first seen her in in Act I.

Ana Gallardo Lobaina as Lady Macbeth in her death scene. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2026. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Equally as powerful was the death of Macbeth who was killed by those he had opposed. His death happened as he was pushing himself up a slope (now that’s metaphorical!). But his journey was cut short by those standing on a structure above him, who were furiously banging spear-like items on the ground they occupied. Macbeth slid backwards to the floor leaving a trail of blood behind him. Branden Reiners as Macbeth had an enormous role to play and did so in a spectacular and completely engrossing manner. Just amazing.

The death of Macbeth. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2026. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

It is also interesting (to me at least) that Topp manages to make her works expand one’s thoughts beyond the obvious. There were at least two scenes in Topp’s Macbeth where the cast gathered to dine and celebrate a particular occasion. They sat around a long table with the majority sitting along the upstage edge of the table. On both occasions I couldn’t help but think of Leonardo da Vinci’s painting The Last Supper. The situation onstage made me think that Macbeth’s end was near, which of course it was.

In addition to Topp’s narrative development and choreographic input, this Macbeth is a masterful collaboration. Jon Buswell’s lighting and set design fit beautifully with the contemporary (modernistic?) approach of Topp. His simple set of a series of moveable screens is stunning to look at closely. The screens, which form both various backdrops and wings or side screens, are made up of multiple small squares of silvery material with each square covered in finely etched designs.

Dancers of Royal New Zealand Ballet in a scene from *Macbeth*, 2026. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

But Buswell has also made use of the upper space of the stage with a platform that extends down from the flies at various times to make an ‘upstairs’ area that is Lady Macbeth’s bedroom/bathroom. His input also includes the lighting of each scene and the frequent use of billowing white smoke that darkens in Act II as the concepts being explored also darken. Those smoky creations make an appearance in the upper areas of the performing space and sometimes include the occasional word or sentence from Shakespeare’s play.

Costumes by Aleisa Jelbart are also a great addition to the work. They reflect a contemporary era and the opulent characteristics of those who are creating the story. The costumes have a simplicity along with a markedly expensive look about them and are varied in the choice of materials used in their making (including leather as well as cotton/nylon/linen materials). A commissioned score from Christopher Gordon is loud and overwhelming at times but reflects the similarly overwhelming nature of the activities of the characters.

This Macbeth is highly theatrical and completely engrossing. A must see show that is a co-production with West Australian Ballet. The dancers of Royal New Zealand Ballet gave an absolutely outstandng performance on opening night and are to be congratulated on bringing the production to an amazing level of dancing and acting.

MIchelle Potter, 27 February 2026

Featured image: Branden Reiners as Macbeth with dancers of Royal New Zealand Ballet. Macbeth, 2026. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Postscript: There is much more to say about this production, and I look forward to seeing it again, perhaps in Perth when it opens there in September. In this post I have deliberately concentrated on production values rather than the storyline itself. Other reviews I’m sure will analyse the storyline in more detail. For those who go to the show, there is a good description of the story as it unfolds in the Topp production in the very informative printed program.

Solace. Royal New Zealand Ballet

1 August 2024. St James Theatre, Wellington

Below is a slightly enlarged version of my review of Solace published online by Dance Australia on 5 August 2024. The Dance Australia review is at this link.

Solace, the recent triple bill from Royal New Zealand Ballet (RNZB), offered audiences a thought-provoking look at the approach of contemporary choreographers who work with ballet companies. They are often inspired by abstract ideas rather than by a narrative line. Such was the case with the three works that made up Solace: Wayne McGregor’s Infra, To Hold by Sarah Foster-Sproull, and Alice Topp’s High Tide.

First up was Infra, danced to a score by Max Richter. I first saw Infra in an Australian Ballet season back in 2014 and I was not really thrilled with what I saw then. But I felt quite differently watching the RNZB production. In his RNZB program notes McGregor remarked that ‘Infra has become simply about people’. Two people stood out in the cast I saw—Branden Reiners and Kate Kadow. Their duet, one of several in Infra, was filled with emotion as a result of the magnificent contact they made with each other. The connection they created was not simply a result of the physicality they developed through McGregor’s choreography but in other ways as well, including through their constant and engaging eye contact. But eventually Reiners left the stage, walking off without acknowledging Kadow. Her reaction continued the momentum that the duet had generated. Kadow seemed stricken by anxiety and pain as she reacted to Reiners’ departure. It was heart-stopping. Despite exceptional dancing by the entire cast, nothing could match the performance of Reiners and Kadow.

Branden Reiners and Kate Kadow in *Infra*. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2024. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Apart from being moved by the Reiners/Kadow connection, it was interesting to watch the unfolding of McGregor’s choreography. With Infra he worked within the classical medium but pushed that medium to exceptional lengths. In particular, his choreography moved away from the classical notion that the body is centred on an erect spine. In Infra it was quite noticeable that the spine was often curved with the dancers pushing the pelvis backwards and forwards to remove and then reinstate the straight line of the spine. Great work from RNZB.

Next was Sarah Foster-Sproull’s newly-commissioned work, To Hold, again dealing with an abstract idea, ‘ways of holding and being held’. This idea was constantly made clear by the groupings Foster-Sproull created throughout the piece. Often the dancers gathered together in large, tightly-held arrangements. Often too they joined arms to create various groupings. Frequently the hands, often with fingers spread wide apart, were very prominent. To my mind this focus on joining hands in various ways meant that other choreographic moves seemed of secondary importance. I would have loved to have seen more variation rather than the work being overburdened by ‘togetherness’.

A moment from Sarah Foster-Sproull’s *To Hold*. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2024. Photo: © Stephen A’Court.

The bright blue costumes by Donna Jefferis moved beautifully as the choreography, and the score by Eden Mulholland, unfolded. The costumes added a visually impressive element to the work.

Ana Gallardo Lobaina (left) and Joshua Guillemot-Rodgerson (right) in Sarah Foster-Sproull’s *To Hold*. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2024. Photo: © Stephen A’Court.

The evening ended with another new work, High Tide, created by Australia’s Alice Topp to music by Icelandic composer Ölafur Arnalds. Topp writes that the work is ‘a tender look at the isolating experiences of fear and our ever-changing shadows’. High Tide consisted largely of duets, a dance format that is a specialty of Topp’s choreographic approach. Topp showed off her skill at developing lifts and partnership moves that were often quite spectacular in the way bodies linked up. Dancers were, for example, often held upside down or in twisted positions, and they frequently pulled away from each other while still maintaining a physical connection. Topp’s choreography is firmly classically based but is demanding in its complexity and there were moments when I felt a little anxious about some of the performers. High Tide probably needs more time for the dancers to develop greater confidence and fluidity with Topp’s choreography.

Ana Gallardo Lobaina and Branden Reiners in Alice Topp’s *High Tide*. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2024. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

While visually all three works had an impact, the most outstanding collaborative contribution was designer Jon Buswell’s huge and domineering orb that accompanied High Tide. It reflected, on its changing surface and with its movement within the performing space, much of what Topp hoped to express about human experiences.

Solace was a demanding triple bill and RNZB rose skillfully to the occasion. It was an evening to be savoured and enjoyed for what it demonstrated about ballet today.

Update on request. An oral history interview with Alice Topp, recorded for the National Library of Australia, is available at this link. (MP 7/8/24)

Michelle Potter 5 August 2024

Featured image: A scene from Alice Topp’s High Tide showing Jon Buswell’s orb at the back. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2024. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Swan Lake revisited. Royal New Zealand Ballet

Production by Russell Kerr, staged by Turid Revfeim—alternate casts in continuing Wellington season
reviewed by Jennifer Shennan

I have been privileged to see the three casts of the Wellington season of Swan Lake, in Russell Kerr’s pedigree production (and note there is also a fourth cast, though not performing in the capital). It’s impressive that a relatively small ballet company can field that number of Principals since ours is half or a quarter the size of major world companies who would stage a Swan Lake.

We might also score as the world’s most widely nationally touring company. That dates back to 1950s when Poul Gnatt took ballet to 156 towns throughout the country each year. In part the geography of Aotearoa New Zealand allowed that, provided you could find the stamina, but it was also Gnatt’s intent to take ballet to the people, to the farming community, to schools, to local towns where billets were forthcoming and the provision of suppers became a thing of some local competition—in contrast with his own homeland where people had to travel to Copenhagen to see their national company. Gnatt’s vision seems to have worked since sell-out shows of Swan Lake around the country are still happening, and the zeitgeist of the Company today is causally connected to those beginnings.

I said in my review of this production’s opening night that the corps de ballet of swans are making a particularly beautiful line-up, and that is impressive since most of them would not have danced Swan Lake before. Also noteworthy is that none of the Odette/Odile-Siegfried casts has ever danced these full-length roles before either. And what’s more you can spy last night’s Swan Queen in the line-up of Princesses dancing at court tonight, and here amongst the corps de ballet tonight, as a fragile and beautiful but anonymous swan, is tomorrow’s Odette/Odile. Perhaps it is the freshness of so many premiere performances that is contributing to the rich and committed quality of this production. That, and the staging by Turid Revfeim.

Ana Gallardo Lobaina and Joshusa Guillemot-Rodgerson with corps de ballet and von Rothbart in *Swan Lake*. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2024. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

Kate Kadow as the Swan Queen uses her statuesque physique to real effect and gives a striking performance particularly as Odile. Her Siegfried, Branden Rainers, is a strong and secure partner.

Ana Gallardo Lobaina and Joshua Guillemot-Rodgerson make another fine pairing in the title roles, again spectacular in the Odile-Siegfried liaison. The solo of the melancholy prince alone on stage between acts is a poignant and beautiful performance I will long remember.

Ana Gallardo Lobaina as Odile and Joshusa Guillemot-Rodgerson as Siegfried in *Swan Lake*, Act III. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2024. Photo: © Stephen A’Court

It is quite a moment when after the matinee performance Ty King-Wall, the Company’s artistic director, takes the stage to announce that both Ana Gallardo Lobaina and Joshua Guillemot-Rodgerson are being promoted to the rank of Principal.

A ballet stage is usually full of beautiful things many, many times rehearsed and then impeccably delivered. Improvisation and spontaneity are not normally on offer, so it is quite wonderful to watch Gallardo Lobaina overwhelmed at the surprise announcement. ‘Is she laughing or crying’ is the 4 year old’s urgent whisper beside me in the dark. The answer is ‘yes’ since she is a quivering, laughing, crying dancer who hasn’t rehearsed this bit, but eventually, after several minutes, finds a fist punch to say ‘OK. Yes. I accept.’

The Jester in that cast, Dane Head, is a truly mischievous character with impeccable timing throughout (echoes of a Mercutio or a Harlequin in some other ballet). Von Rothbart, here played by Zacharie Dun, also has the week’s edge of that role in his scheming duplicity and evil intent (reminding me of the Devil in Denis Potter’s Brimstone and Treacle, that tour de force of the theatre). Paul Mathews, returning from retirement to play the somewhat bumbling old Tutor Wolfgang, of course wears the same costume by Kristian Fredrikson as did the late Jon Trimmer who created the role, and we welcome the reminder of that.

Russell Kerr’s catch-cry was always ‘There’s no such thing as a small part’ and that would explain why every performer in his productions makes the stage their own. The Spanish, Hungarian and Italian entertainers at court, in von Rothbart’s thrall, are delivered with exceptional panache. Catarina Estevez-Collins has a stand-out quality, but it’s always Kirby Selchow who steals my eye. She is the character who acts before she dances, whereas in ballet is mostly the other way round. Calum Gray continues to impress, and he will likely be a Siegfried in years to come.

Katherine Minor, the ‘fourth’ Odette/Odile (with Kihiro Kusukami as Siegfried) is the cast I didn’t see. Minor is in the corps of swans each night in Wellington, they are all immaculate and identical but there’s an aura of Olga Spessivtseva about Minor that uncannily marks her out from the rest (and what’s more she is a dead ringer lookalike of former Royal New Zealand Ballet dancer, Fiona Tonkin— now there’s New Zealand ballet history for you).

We have already seen Minor as Odile in a recent Tutus on Tour program so we know she can do it, but it’s always the matter of how evenly and convincingly Odette and Odile will play off the double sides of that single role that takes us back to the next performance. In this season and by my reading, it is Mayu Tanigaito who plays both aspects equally and deeply, right from the get-go—the subtle and anguished Odette, equally with the sparklingly duplicit Odile (possibly the somewhat ‘easier’ role to smash out? Who knows? Ask the dancers). Tanigaito appears as each of these persona before she even starts dancing. How that mystery, that alchemy works is another reason we go back to the ballet. So sadly, I’ll just have to imagine how Minor is playing out her double character in the role of a lifetime.

Of course, what Swan Lake is ‘really about’ is the emotional stamina required to continue living when your beloved partner has had to leave—in other words, it’s an essay on grief, how to live with the memory of someone after von Rothbart has stolen her away. That’s ‘really’ why we go to back to see Swan Lake, and why Russell Kerr’s quiet mastering of the layered and ambiguous ending is so very consoling, so very finely wrought.

Jennifer Shennan, 12 May 2024

Featured image: Kate Kadow as Odile with Branden Reiners as Siegfried in Swan Lake Act III. Royal New Zealand Ballet, 2024. Photo: © Stephen A’Court