Sydney Opera House
December 2011

By Linda Badger

There are many advantages to creating a new version of something old.  Audiences are familiar with the old, and love to see the creativity that a new artist can bring to the original.  Graeme Murphy has created many brilliant, fresh interpretations of various classics for companies worldwide.  He has successfully managed to take on this new season in his career with gusto, and the critics have been raving about his work.

In December, Murphy’s adaptation of Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet was showing at the Sydney Opera House.  His long time collaborators shone throughout the work, with Akira Isogawa on costume design, Gerard Manion on sets and Damien Cooper managing lighting.  Isogawa’s costumes were stunning.  The use of colour, line, texture and concepts woven into each detail of every costume was art within itself.   It brought new meaning to each character, and freshened up the entire look of the production.  However, it felt at times like we were watching a fashion show. I felt major sensory overload.  The costumes were just gorgeous, but they completely overtook and distracted from the choreography itself.  It was a display of costumes with dancers in them, not costumes with the purpose of complimenting the choreography.

The most memorable performances were that of the characters of Romeo and Juliet played by Daniel Gaudiello and Leanne Stojmenov. Both wore fairly simple costumes, and therefore their movements were the focus. The company all danced well, but the dancing was just not as memorable as the costuming. This was highlighted with the addition of a random second wedding scene, set in a Bollywood style. This again was a chance to show off the talents of Akira Isogawa, but it didn’t necessarily add to the storyline, nor did it fit in with the cultural setting of the show.

One of the most interesting changes, although slightly out of context, was the addition of a holy man who married the fated lovers. He was portrayed as a Buddhist monk. Within the scenes that involved this holy man and his acolytes, we saw some of the most inventive choreographic moments. These scenes were mesmerizing, but they once again added a completely new culture to the mix, which didn’t really make sense. 

I wondered the purpose of all these additions? In this case the additions were not in line with the story, the culture, or the setting of the ballet. If in the program there could have been some explanation for the choices Murphy made, we may have been able to piece together this work a little more easily. 

Choreographically, Murphy’s use of motif for Juliet’s character was interesting. It seemed very well thought out and her interpretation of the role was undeniably realistic and mesmerising, taking us on her journey through the work seamlessly. Murphy’s reputation for bringing something special out of a dancer was brought to life in this casting.

The use of multimedia within the work was ingenious. With screens being an interwoven part of the setting, not an added extra, they helped make each scene come to life.

Death was added as a character, and he was fantastic, adding a new interpretation on the lead up to the character’s deaths.  He made cameo appearances throughout the work, and the context within which Murphy weaved him into the story was clever.  If every addition had this much relevance to it, it would have made the work that much better.

The most captivating scene was within the final moments of the work, where the two lovers both committed suicide to be with each other in eternity. Gaudiello and Stojmenov’s acting was realistic and they gave so much emotion in their portrayal of their characters.  It was an awesome scene to observe. It really drew one in.  In this moment the show took us back to the original version, and we were finally able to focus on the dance, the story and where the two were emotionally.  Notably there were not the distractions of extravagant costumes or sets. The dancers felt more tangible, and their movement and role-play was what stood out.

This version of Romeo and Juliet is one that audiences either love or hate, or walk away confused with all the ideas that are thrown at them.  I think Murphy definitely pitched this ballet at a contemporary audience. Lovers of the classic may leave the theatre feeling as if this revival was not justified.  There were so many great ideas and concepts, but not every idea and concept needed to be used to make the show great.  The original ballet was definitely in need of a revamp to make it attractive to the modern theatregoer who may not normally attend the ballet, so bravo to Murphy and collaborators for such a bold attempt at bringing to life a classic.

Photo: Kevin Jackson and Madeleine Eastoe of The Australian Ballet. Photo by Georges Antoni

Melbourne International Arts Festival
The Arts Centre
October 2011 

By Rain Francis. 

When, as the ushers check your ticket, you are handed earplugs, you may experience a mix of excitement and trepidation.  Then, when the show opens with the jaw-dropping depiction of a samurai warrior sacrificing himself, you know you are in for a ride that will be engraved on your retinas for some time.

After a standout appearance at the 2009 Melbourne Festival, Hofesh Shechter was back this year with his first full-length work, Political Mother.

This is a total immersion experience for the audience; a powerful blitz of live music, dance, and striking imagery. With his uncommon duality – being both composer and choreographer – Shechter has created a show where the music and dance are not only equally compelling and equally central, but integral to one another.

The music is brutal; thrashing between hard rock and military drumming. Rather than simply being placed on stage, the musicians have an intense visual presence. The rock band, elevated above the rest of the action, is shrouded in haze, with the players evenly spaced and lit from below. Between them and the dancers is a sinister line of often faceless drummers, stern and upright, with the brass buttons on their uniforms gleaming in the dark.

The dance itself is constantly moving; the feet shambling and shuffling, the floor patterns looping intricately, mathematically organised. The arms are very expressive, but never fully extended. They are strung aloft by the wrists, or cradled in what sometimes seems like self-defence, sometimes submission, sometimes weariness. It is emotionally draining. We feel the performers clinging to near-shredded hope, always moving forward though close to exhaustion.

Tying together and somewhat brightening all this darkness is a strong sense of community, which seems to empower the individual. Shechter has interwoven traditional folk dance with his own contemporary vocabulary to comment on the way humanity deals with the pressures of modern life. The result is surreal, but also hyper-real, with a timeless, universal quality. Political Mother reels you in, envelops you and takes you on an intense voyage through worlds colliding.

Gasworks Theatre, Albert Park, Vic
August 12

By Grace Edwards

Ignite The Dark’s latest work, The Earth, the Sea and the Moon is a story about a neurotic artist named Moon and his ever-growing obsession with the girl of his dreams, the waitress who works in the café beneath him. Falling further into a world of fantasy and neurosis, Moon creates an alter ego intent on foiling his every move.

The choreography showcased a range of dance styles including jazz, tap, ballroom and ballet, each of which was used to highlight aspects of the storyline. A ‘tango pasión’ introduced the sexually-charged character of the alter-ego, a creation of Moon’s imagination, whilst a ballet scene sought to highlight his romantic chemistry with Moon’s love interest.

The structured format of the show was clear and the storyline consequently easy to follow. The choreography and the dancing was at its best in the jazz-inspired commercial dance numbers, particularly the unison ensemble sections in which the dancers appeared well rehearsed and in sync. However, many elements were surprisingly derivative for a company that describes itself as “innovative”. There was little evidence of experimentation in the choreography, and many of the movement sequences and steps seemed so familiar as to result in dance sequences that were rather extreme clichés of their genres. There were also one or two conspicuous moments in which the use of moving props threatened the safety of the performers and needed to be more closely choreographed.

The piece is structured in a series of chapters, connected by dialogue, video, text and storyline. There were moments in which the video was used well to articulate the inner world of our hero, but the dialogue sections were somewhat jarring, at times giving the impression of a school play. This impression was not helped by the lack of attention to details in the setting, such as the untidy handwritten paper sign used to denote the ‘Pie in the Sky’ café at which our waitress/heroine worked.

The dancers struggled technically through a number of passages, and this was most obvious in unfamiliar genres such as ballet. The choreography demanded of the female performers a number of passages en pointe and the dancers appeared worryingly unstable. Attention needs to be paid to the finer details and to the feet and leg extensions in jumps and lifts.

This company has some way to go if it intends to rival other professional companies working in Melbourne. However, the broad appeal and youth of the company should ensure enthusiastic support and a wide pool of creative talent from which to draw in its attempts to make its mark on the dance scene.

State Theatre, Arts Centre Melbourne
July 13 2011

By Rain Francis

Fourteen years after their last visit, the incomparable Nederlands Dans Theater came back to Australia, for an exclusive season in Melbourne. With a diverse triple bill, this was easily the most fulfilling dance experience I’ve had, and am likely to have, in a long time.

The programme opened with Double You, performed with breath-taking precision by Bastien Zorzetto. Choreorgraphed by Jiri Kylian, it embodies the style which the Czech master made synonymous with Nederlands Dans Theater, and with his own name. It explores themes of self-doubt, both psychological and physical, and of dealing with the passage of time. Upstage, two giant pendulums swing quietly, their size suggesting domination, their gradually waning energy reflecting the cycle of life. 

The second work was The Second Person by Associate Choreographer, Canadian Crystal Pite. An ensemble piece for 22 dancers, it provides a wonderful contrast to Kylian’s opening solo. Pite has created a highly theatrical yet powerfully human world using a voiceover, a stormy backdrop, an eclectic soundscape, rat-race costumes and – in the words of Artistic Director Jim Vincent –  ‘miniature humans’. Immediately we are drawn in, and immediately we know that this is a piece about us; that although we are unique, we are part of collective. While various solos and duets bubble out of the mass of grey suits, the mass itself develops and envelops like a storm cloud. The closing imagery, where the individuals finally unite and harness a collective intuition, flowing in harmony, is one what will stay with me.

Closing the evening was Lightfoot Leon’s Silent Screen, inspired by silent movies. I can comfortably describe this one as an epic saga – a thoroughly engaging one at that. It is a journey through a lifetime, through the course of a relationship, and through time itself. It is bookended by a beautifully made, primarily black and white film, in which the dancers seem to be characters. Paul Lightfoot’s and Sol Leon’s daughter features both in the film and, by representation, in the choreography. Lightfoot said, ‘Saura was six then and we both felt like her state of innocence was changing, her consciousness, and that’s what we wanted to explore in the piece – changes of states of being, growing older with someone’.

Silent Screen is set mostly to Phillip Glass’, Glassworks; a perfect choice, with its constantly forward-driving rhythms and a hypnotic melody which seems to embed itself in the listener’s consciousness. In a particularly memorable moment, a man and a woman emerge from the orchestra pit and move upstage. As they travel, the woman’s dress trails behind her, covering the entire stage, until suddenly, the featherweight silk is billowing, brought to life by some hidden wind.

The three works in this programme were linked by anthropological themes, giving the evening a sense of cohesiveness. As Vincent said, ‘This is a pretty clear and somewhat perfect cross-section of the company today. It maintains the history, respects the tradition but it also looks to the future of the company’. Performances from all dancers were, not surprisingly, flawless – these truly are some of the best dancers in the world. Let’s hope this magnificent company return to Australia soon. 

Photo by David Wyatt

Shaun Parker and the teenagers of Western Sydney

Seymour Centre, Sydney
May 27 2011

By Elizabeth Ashley

With 40 teenagers tutting, locking, hip-hopping and booty-shaking, choreographer Shaun Parker evokes the western Sydney school yard in all its multicultural diversity and underlying tension.

A collaboration with CAPTIVATE, the performing arts program of the Catholic Education Parramatta Diocese, ‘The Yard’ is both joyful and poignant, expressing a living contemporary dance language. As Shaun Parker explains, ‘what you see here is the contemporary movement language that these kids live in, the crumping, jerking, hip-hopping of their everyday.’

The recently appointed resident choreographer of the Seymour Centre in Sydney has once again explored a microcosm of real life and revealed it to us through dance. Just as in ‘Happy as Larry’, showcased at Sydney Festival 2010, Parker both confronts and enchants the audience with a snapshot of contemporary life, this time the school yard.

The students are individuals using their own unique style of movement language to intimidate, coerce, bully or attempt to cross cultural divides. As one of the dancers explains, ‘it could be about bullying, it could be about sadness and emotion.’

With a cast consisting of teenagers and a plethora of recently arrived migrants the central theme that emerges from this work is the forms of belonging that shape the life of many of the adolescents.  The fluidity of belonging to an institution, a culture, a clique or a couple is explored in a multiplicity of short dances capturing the hurried and flexible lives of this “social networked” generation.

A bare stage, apart from one slippery-dip, is the yard where students – all in school uniform or sports uniform – enter, interact, form clusters, disperse, play, perform and fight. We are not mere observers but rather ‘feel’ this yard that resonates with the diversity of cultures heightened by the sensitivity and energy of adolescence.

Parker’s choreography, while emphasizing the group life of many teenagers, avoids the mass synchronized feel of many School Eisteddfod events that minimise an individual focus.  Instead, Parker draws out individual personalities through their individual dance styles. Parker should be commended for blending the style and character of these relatively untrained performers, allowing their street culture to provide shape and narrative to drive the performance.

As two boys show off their hip-hop moves or twins zip around the stage adding confusion, the audience cannot help but interact with applause and laughter or gasp at the balancing acts that take place. The “Yard” that emerges is predominantly a male stronghold with all the usual braggadocio, faux aggression and testosterone that characterises street culture.

Technical musicality isn’t always strongly felt, apart from a memorable krumper who takes possession of the beat. His powerful krumping, locking and popping converts his limbs into a singular percussion instrument for the girls’ admiration. There is a standout performance also by a lanky student, who moonwalks, juggles basketballs and balances precariously using random props.

It’s a simple scenario and structure complemented by a youthful, electronic ‘street-feel’ soundtrack by Nick Wales and Bree Van Reyk.

Parker started working with a group of 40 students 3 years ago, traveling 3 times a week out to the western suburbs of Sydney. And so they come to centre-stage in Sydney’s CBD, focused and committed with their youthful enthusiasm and bravado to create a heart-warming and joyful celebration of unity in diversity using the medium of dance. In Shaun Parker’s words, ‘it celebrates the extraordinary in the ordinary.’

Sydney Festival 2011
Sydney Theatre
January 26

 By Linda Badger

Entity by Wayne McGregor | Random Dance was challenging.  Having read so much on how McGregor is pushing the boundaries choreographically (in collaboration with not only his dancers but significant others such as scientists), his ideals and his use of technology, I expected so much more from this work. Difficult posture and speed of movement made it technically demanding for the dancers, but one could not read much beyond that.

It was refreshing to see costuming, lighting and set design that was relatively simple. It gave the dancers a chance to shine and allowed the choreography itself to complete the stage, which is something we don’t see much of these days.  It takes a talented choreographer not to rely on these elements to make the piece. 

The choreography was very reminiscent of the work coming out of many mainstream contemporary companies in Europe, displaying formal lines mixed with broken lines and changes in posture, but still requiring its dancers to be ballet dancers at the core.  The movement itself was very much based on traditional classical ballet and the long lines that the discipline requires.  McGregor himself is known for his lengthy limbs and his ability to be able to move with incredible speed despite their length. This was seen in his attempt to have his dancers move the same way.  There were some inspiring and beautiful moments in the choreography where the dancers really extended to the very nth degree, and then quickly moved on to a distortion of the shapes they had created. 

The strength and uniqueness of McGregor’s choreography seemed to come in the group moments. The whole company was on stage performing separate movements that in just moments became very connected.  It was special as we watched sparks of random connection.  I really enjoyed the group work.  I was left wanting to see more group choreography, and perhaps less duo or trios, as there was little or no meaningful or personal connection between the dancers, and when those interactions did occur, they did not seem to lead anywhere.

Despite the dancers’ wealth of training and experience, I found the overall technique lacking.  Some had beautiful technique, gorgeous feet (which is essential for very classical work) and physique.  Other dancers lacked in all three areas.  I felt that the company, although a contemporary company with dancers of all different strengths and personalities, was attempting work that would look much better on the classical companies McGregor is renowned for working with. 

McGregor has been appointed as the first contemporary resident choreographer for the Royal Ballet (with no formal classical training himself).  I am sure his work is going to see justice on the Royal Ballet dancers and the audience will see its fullest potential.  Entity was frustrating to watch as I could see what could have been achieved if the dancers were physically ready for the choreography.  It would be mesmerising to see this work on a truly classical company.

I felt that the male dancers’ portrayal of their roles was much too feminine at times, and quite distracting, leaving one wondering if there was a point to having the two separate genders in the company.  Male and female roles don’t need to be defined all the time, but the male dancers didn’t show their strength and individuality as males. The sensuality of the women was shown exquisitely.  It was a shame that the men fell under the same style at times. 

Overall the work was commendable, with some really nice partner work, lifts, physical shapes and interactions. I admire the dancers’ attack of such difficult choreography.  At times I was completely mesmerised, but at other times I wondered why interactions were happening or what McGregor was attempting to tell us. I have no doubt that opinions of the work varied across the audience.

Photos: Prudence Upton