Lyric Theatre, The Star
January 4 2011

By Kristy Johnson.

When it comes to a night of quality entertainment, Annie the musical ticks all the right boxes. The timeless tale of little orphan ‘Annie’ caters for both the young and old in a lavish and energetic stage production. Produced by John Frost, this is a classic musical about never giving up hope. Based on the popular Harold Gray comic strip, Annie burst onto the scene in 1977 and has been playing across the world ever since.

With a star-studded cast, the Australian production of Annie lives up to expectations. Anthony Warlow reprises his role as ‘Daddy Warbucks’ after the highly successful production of Annie in 2000. With a stella career spanning diverse performances, it was no surprise that Anthony brought charisma and a thrilling voice to the role. He is teamed with theatrical legend and stage veteran Nancye Hayes, playing the role of villainous ‘Miss Hannigan’, and the ever-versatile performer Todd McKenney, as Miss Hannigan’s con-artist brother ‘Rooster’.

Other standout performers include Chloe Dallimore who brought great comic timing in her portrayal of ‘Lily St Regis’, and Julie Goodwin with beautiful poise and an incredible voice playing assistant ‘Grace’. Even radio shock-jock Alan Jones took a shot at the role of ‘Franklin D Roosevelt’. It was an interesting choice to have Jones play the President, as his accent needed some work, however the radio personality seemed to enjoy himself on stage and carried the audience along with him.

Miss Hannigan (Nancye Hayes), Rooster (Todd McKenney) and Lily (Chloe Dallimore). Photo Jeff Busby

Siena Elchaar took on the role of ‘Annie’. Although she may not have had the strongest of voices on the night, she made up for it with a confident stage presence. Siena was backed up by a group of talented girls who played the orphans. All the girls seemed to carry off their roles with ease, and performed like true professionals. Their performance of ‘It’s The Hard-Knock Life’, choreographed by Kelly Aykers, was a definite showstopper. Ayanda Dladla, who played ‘Molly’ on the night, was adorable and proves to be a great talent already at such a young age. However, if you were to go by the reaction of the audience, then perhaps ‘Sandy’ the dog, was the real star of the show. Each time the dog came on stage the crowd erupted!

The sets and costumes did not disappoint. With each scene, you could see that an immense amount of detail had gone into the use of props, lighting and backdrops, and ‘Daddy Warbuck’s’ wealth came to life with a rather lavish set design to depict his New York mansion.

Annie has it all: a stellar cast, impressive set design and great comic ability. The production was a crowd pleaser, and is definitely one for the whole family to enjoy.

Top photo: Annie (Lucille Le Meledo), Julie Goodwin, Alan Jones, Anthony Warlow and ensemble cast.
Photo Jeff Busby.

Seymour Centre, The University of Sydney
January 2012
As part of Sydney Festival

By Linda Badger.

Set in what could be the tiny and obscure boxing gyms of backyard Scotland, Frantic Assembly and the National Theatre of Scotland brought their mesmerising physical theatre production of Beautiful Burnout to Sydney Festival.  

The atmosphere was set as we entered the theatre with trance-like electro music preparing the audience for what would be a very confronting journey; a journey through the intense psychology of the sport of boxing…the highs, the lows, the struggles and the wins.  With a stage almost in the round, interchangeable parts and a set you could hang off, this was sure to be a winner. 

However, even though the show boasted some incredibly phenomenal moments, these were juxtaposed by elements that were fairly average. There was a real contrast in presentation.  There were few standout performance moments, notably one by lead character ‘Cameron Burns’ (Kevin Guthrie), highlighting in the closing moments the physicality of his portrayal of the effects of an horrific boxing injury. This scene completely drew me in.  I can’t say there were many other moments like this though, which was not helped by a fairly under developed storyline.  There were snippets of how this world of boxing affects the people involved, their relationships and their worldview.  However, they were only snippets, with immature character and story development for all the ‘cans of worms’ that were opened.  There was neither lead up nor follow through, leaving us wondering why things were revealed but not validated. Each moment could have been interweaved throughout the story and resolved or unfolded, but instead they left us dry.

Choreographically there were a few really interesting moments. The movement was geared towards the non-dance audience. The choreography was very simplistic and literal. It was not an attempt at being too artistically clever or abstract, and was geared completely towards the characters.  The actors embraced this so well that we were not distracted by portions of technical dance movement. Each character was at the forefront of these moments, not giving us the impression that we were watching a jazzed up ‘dance break’, which was no easy feat for the performers.   

The soundtrack mostly consisted of electro and mood music, written by Underworld, who are long term collaborators with Frantic Assembly.  Structurally the work went from dialogue, to monologue, to movement, in a fairly repetitive pattern interjected with random moments such as characters hanging of the back drop having a casual conversation.  Not exploring much outside of this, the work seemed a little un-inventive.

All in all, the formula for this kind of production has been done and done, so it would be nice to see this piece developed further, with more room for some of the juicier parts of the story, and exploring less typical choices of soundtrack and structure.  It was enjoyable to watch nonetheless, with an intriguing subject matter. However, I believe the potential for this work has yet to be reached. Beautiful Burnout is still one to go and watch if you enjoy physical theatre.

Top photo: Beautiful Burnout by the National Theatre of Scotland and Frantic Assembly. Photo by Gavin Evans.

Playhouse, Sydney Opera House
January 2012
As part of Sydney Festival

By Elizabeth Ashley

While Nijinsky’s L’Après Midi d’un Faune may be 100 years old this year, it still packs an inspirational punch for  choreographers, dancers and other performers.

The original performance premiered in a storm of scandalous success to a 1912 Parisian audience eager to see the iconic Ballet Russes.  To its detractors in the dance world Nijinsky was accused of being “anti-ballet” when he delivered a performance that attempted to strip ballet of its sentimentality and stressed instead a feral, instinctive and coldly sexual quality.

These qualities seem to be the inspiration for choreographer Martin del Amo as he worked with renowned dancer Paul White to create their Anatomy of an Afternoon. Underplaying the mythical and classical elements of the original work, del Amo emphasises the natural and the animal that is in the dance. Also in this work, the mythical aspect of the faun, a strange creature of half man half goat is replaced with a meditation on the potential qualities of an afternoon with its mix of languidity, frustration and possibility.

Paul White’s solo performance is a marvel of animal magnetism as he captures the inherent grace of various animals from upright cassowary-type bird to slithering lizard and underwater squid. The juxtaposition of effortless animalistic grace with human form creates an uncanny sense of mythological faun and the beast inherent in man.

Without narrative or emotion, White holds the audience spell-bound as he evokes the native life forms of a forest conveying the heightened sensitivity of an animal in response to its environment.  From the hypnotic head movements of a snake charming its master to a satisfied cat licking its paws, White effortlessly fascinates us with the centrality of the body in the natural world. 

At times this bodily love is shown in a joyful, undressed and yet aimless running, perhaps conveying the excess of Nijinsky’s Faun.  Yet del Amo and White’s work is objective, studied and appropriately named Anatomy. The body’s centrality is performed with all the strength and graceful control that is Paul White’s forte, but in contrast to the introversion and self-absorption of Nijinky’s Faun, this creature is very much outward-looking. He gazes intently at the audience, proudly rippling his muscular frame and teasing us with a barely-covered pair of animal glutes.

Martin Bradshaw’s eclectic music, played by a small ensemble, attempts to convey the ‘elusive nature of the afternoon’. While there is a strong sense of the longing inherent in an idyllic Queensland afternoon it seems a touch too insipid to convey the rhythmic essence of the wild body.  The sense and mood of an afternoon isn’t helped by Matthew Marshall’s light and design on a bare stage, which while beautiful, suggests more of a moonlit forest rather than a sunlit afternoon.

Anatomy of an Afternoon may not instigate the same controversy as its predecessor, but it does provide a timely reminder that much of what is graceful is centered on the feral, untamed body and instinct; and it can still hold us spellbound. The Faun of the 21st century reflects our increasing fascination and anxiety about our relationship with nature in its various forms.

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

Canberra Theatre Centre
November 2011

By Lynne Lancaster.

Perfect family fare, Cinderella is an excellent introduction to ballet for children, and WA Ballet’s rendition was a good, very serviceable production that had the packed audience entranced. I attended the matinee, and there were masses of little girls, dance teachers and grandmas who absolutely relished the show.

The ballet told the standard fairytale of poor Cinderella being horribly ignored and abused by her stepmother and stepsisters. Set apparently in the 1930′s, or thereabouts, the ballet began with Cinderella’s mother’s funeral, with everyone in black .The adult stepsisters were shown as beautiful on the outside, but dark within. This version conflated Cinderella’s real mother and the Fairy Godmother. The Fairy Godmother was assisted by garden nymphs and the characters of Faith, Hope and Charity who were three male dancers in spectacular costumes of blue, red and green.

For touring purposes a recorded Prokofiev score was used, accompanied by Allan Lees’ ravishing sets and costumes. Much use was made of a romantic, glowing full moon and Cinderella’s carriage was light, airy and filigree silver, complete with a couple of tiny attendant cupids! The dresses worn by the ladies for the Ball scene were beautiful and the sparkling silver and white tutu of the Fairy Godmother was worthy of Tsarist Russia. The way the long skirt of Cinderella’s white dress at the Ball rippled and fell flowerlike was fabulous.

Technically the dancing was excellent. Jayne Smeulders devised a work (her first full length) that impressively combines contemporary and classical ballet, using pointe and non-pointe work. It also particularly emphasised the female characters. There were allusions to Ashton’s iconic work and his A Month in the Country, especially at times with the fiendishly difficult, fiddly footwork and batterie.

As Cinderella, Anna Ishii was charming and delightful. We empathised with her from the beginning. She is a terrific dancer and performed some mesmerizing solos. She was believable both as the meek, downtrodden family servant and as the rapturous, unexpected princess-to-be who captures the heart of Prince Charming.

As Cinderella’s mother/Fairy Godmother, Fiona Evans radiated love, sweetness and appropriate authority in her battle against evil. Tall and distinguished, Benjamin Marett played Cinderella’s quiet, loving and disastrously henpecked father excellently. There were some very fine duets and trios for Cinderella’s stepmother and sisters and they had a wonderful time being horrid to Cinderella, hamming it up slapstick-like and display great comic timing.

As Prince Charming, immaculate in white and gold, Daniel Roberts was splendid. He is a fabulous dancer who coped easily with the difficult, strenuous choreography. He was full of the rather stereotypical poise and the elegance required for the role. The final pas de deux for Charming and Cinderella was joyous and enchanting, and had the audience cheering.

Prince Charming’s two younger brothers played by Mark Dennis and Andre Santos, were also very fine dancers, debonair in burgundy jackets. This company has some magnificent male dancers but the men were possibly under utilised in this production.

West Australian Ballet’s Cinderella was a charming, delightful performance for all the family.

Sadler’s Wells- Peacock Theatre, London
November 2011

By Lara Bianca Pilcher

Some Like It Hip Hop is an original and highly entertaining dance theatre masterpiece that is fun, fun, fun! This innovative production showcases company founder Kate Prince as the director but also as lyricist, co-choreographer and co-writer.  

ZooNation attracts an audience to the theatre that is varied from long time dance lovers and children to even those who usually just watch MTV; attracted to commercial music and dance.

Many children were in the audience. It’s so refreshing that founder Kate Prince has made a family friendly show that will encourage many children to pursue the arts. The stereotypes of hip hop being violent and overly sexualised are broken and hip hop is portrayed in a way that creates a safe show for anyone to come and see.

The story hooks the audience in, continually introducing more dance characters and further evolving others. The live song and acting moves the company from a dance only company to a revue.

The number ‘Invisible Me’ was like a hip hop version of Chicago’s ‘Mr Cellophane’, showing an oppressed character.  It demonstrates how hip hop dance can be fused with music to further evolve the dance narrative and allow dance to be a much more communicative theatre language. 

I’m a big fan of clean comedy (believing that it takes more skill than reverting to toilet humor) and there are so many moments to make you smile. Natasha Gooden’s doll like face is simply delightful as the dance character ‘Oprah Okeke’. The dancers’ faces and acting skills move them beyond dancers alone into true performers.

The lighting design by Johanna Town, is intricately designed and sets by Ben Stones are well integrated. The sets are as big and transformable as any top West End musical. So often dance is executed on a rather empty and bland stage but not in this show, the sets move and are constantly changing. There is never a dull moment.

The music by DJ Walde and Josh Cohen is original, enhancing the dance communication. There is a symbiotic relationship between the movement and music, true to the foundation of hip hop in the 1970s in Bronx NYC. 

The big numbers at the end are a bonus and the whole cast, including the vocalists each have a short freestyle solo, reminding us of the spontaneous and competitive nature of street dance. Many of the performers move with explosive speed and risky air-born lifts and flips. The show is simply invigorating.

Sydney Theatre
October 2011

By Dolce Fisher

Sydney Dance Company’s second installment for the year was the Land of Yes and the Land of No. Originally commissioned for Bonachela Dance Company in 2009 and receiving international acclaim, Australian audiences had the pleasure of delighting in its artistry.

Inspired by traffic signs and the way we navigate through our lives, the work was expanded from a cast of six to ten for the SDC production.  It was full of a myriad of motifs and embellished with canon upon canon. Bonachela is truly a creator of choreography of mathematical proportions. Some sections contained so much intricate detail and were executed with such precision, that it made me think twice about the movement I’d just witnessed.

Opening with an emotional solo performed by Charmene Yap she left the stage looking back, choosing to walk a different path in life, reminiscent of Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken.  Other highlights were Chen Wen and Natalie Allen’s childlike flirtatious duo and Richard Cilli’s intense solo.

The lighting design by Guy Hoare created a maze of fluorescent light structure, changing and creating doorways and patterns. The light often took shape like the directions on my GPS direct the way I should travel.

Theo Clinkard’s costuming was a hit and a miss. The women were styled well with a very feminine edge that really complimented the movement. On the other hand there were male dancers in shorts which allowed you to see the lines created, then others were dressed in massive pleated pants which hindered the choreography.

The work was set to the music of Ezio Bosso and it had a similar emotional quality to that of other Bonachela/Bosso collaborations, but this score had more light and shade.  One beautiful section featured just the piano and the plucking of strings and others included vocal chanting and brass instruments. After seeing the partnership of Bosso and Bonachela develop it will be interesting to see how Bonachela’s choreography will diversify in 2012.

I give a ‘Yes’ to amazing, inspiring and beautiful!

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.

Melbourne International Arts Festival
Malthouse Theatre
October 2011

By Grace Edwards.

Indonesian choreographer Jecko Siompo’s Melbourne Festival offering, We Came From The East, is a light-hearted exploration of the roots of hip-hop. “Hip-Hop was born in Papua, you don’t have to believe me, but my great grandmother told me,” says Siompo. Starting with this simple premise, Siompo traces the journey hip-hip may or may not have taken from Papua, through Indonesia and finally to New York.

Performed in Siompo’s trademark “animal pop” style, this piece is nothing if not energetic. It’s a frenetic blend of contemporary and tribal dance styles infused with the shuddering movements, screams and yelps of wild animals set to a lively and highly percussive soundscape. The ensemble dancers handled the fast-paced choreography reasonably well, whilst the acrobatic displays of the male performers added an extra physical dimension to the piece. The popping and locking sequences were less well-executed, perhaps owing to the different backgrounds of the dancers, though this did not prove a major hindrance to the overall design of the choreography.

The piece could, however, have benefitted a great deal from a stronger conceptual direction. The overarching theme of the show was hinted at only briefly, most explicitly in a vocal mosaic of interviews and musings on the origins of hip-hop. In the final scene, the dancers donned bright-coloured jackets, marking the arrival of contemporary hip hop; how we got there, however, remains a mystery. Meanwhile, a few odd quips and some seemingly out-of-place references to Pinocchio only further obscured any insights to be gleaned.

The choreography also suffered from a lack of light and shade. There were indeed signs of progression throughout the piece; the heavy use of floor work in the initial stages of the performance was replaced by more upright passages, the plain costumes and heavy tribal body paint was balanced by the contemporary final sequence. The dancers’ verbal passages progressed through several different languages, presumably Papuan and Indonesian dialects, through to English. Nonetheless, Sempo’s choreographic style proved somewhat limiting in this respect, at times becoming overly repetitive.

Soloist Jakob Yaw, stunningly painted half in black and half in white in perhaps a nod at his heritage, performed his role with strong presence and assurance.

The shortcomings of this production were ultimately minimised by Sempo’s playful, joyful approach to this piece. We Came From The East is a show to be embraced not for its profound insights nor its technical wizardry, but for its most basic contribution as an energetic and uncomplicated tribute to the ever-evolving and awe-inspiring world of dance.

Photo: Jecko Siompo’s We Came from the East (c) Riduan

Stage Art, Choreographed by Stephen Agisilaou/Adam Blakey

Chapel Off Chapel, Melbourne
Oct 12-22

By Paul Ransom

Sex, death, passion, suicide…

There is a reason the grand themes are continually revisited, not only in drama but in dance. They make for potentially great narrative theatre. The ambitious and energetic Matalor, with its live rock soundtrack and character driven pieces plugs into the much loved and oft re-dredged Romeo & Juliet to find its inspiration; and in so doing delivers a passion filled and somewhat camp tale of doomed desire.

Under the choreographic baton of Stephen Agisilaou and Adam Blakey, the large ensemble cast fill the stage with a blend of Latin, contemporary, ballet and drag show dramatics. Backed by a live band pumping out covers in a glossy, faux-80s style the cast move through a mixed bag of high energy, almost operatic vignettes.

The problem for Matalor is that it’s often so busy you can’t focus. Indeed, the net result is a little more like an end-of-year show than a fully mapped out dance concept. Whilst the athleticism and commitment of the young cast is evident and unwavering throughout, the emotion of the piece fails to translate.

Having said that, plaudits must go to Eley May and Alexander Bryan for their lead roles and to Agisilaou and Blakey for managing to insert some truly excellent choreographic details into the piece. On top of that, the sheer audacity of doing it to a live and loud rock soundtrack is something to be applauded.

Matalor is certainly an interesting blend of aesthetics and, in its showiness and ‘big’ drama, quite possibly a real crowd pleaser. More important than any of this, however, is the fact that Matalor loudly champions the incredible vibrancy and talent of a new generation of Australian dance talent. Maybe if they had been even bolder with this piece we’d be raving about them already.

Photo: In rehearsal for Matalor. Photo by Belinda Strodder