Thanks for reading this year. Sophie Bastas is the winner of our comment of the month competition for December for her beautiful missive on Damien Welch’s final performance. For January, we’ll be giving away copies of Graeme Murphy’s Swan Lake on DVD to TWO lucky commenters, so please keep the good stuff coming! We’ll announce the winners at the end of the month.
Have a fantastic Christmas and a balletlicious new year,
Behind Ballet
Coryphée Stephanie Williams has only been with The Australian Ballet three short years, but has already danced an impressive array of lead roles. We celebrate Stephanie’s recent double Telstra Ballet Dancer Award win by sharing some of her favourite performances to date.
Concord
I was in both Por vos muero and Dyad 1929. For me, Por vos muero is the complete package. I fell in love with dancing it, and I fell in love with watching it – you can’t always say that. Dyad 1929 was incredible too. I loved watching Wayne McGregor work and hearing what he had to say – I liked being the sponge. No one had any pre-conceived ideas about the work, so I could just go out, dance and be me completely.
Jerome Robbins’ Afternoon of a Faun
This is a work of pure genius. Throughout the ballet, you hardly catch eyes with your partner, but when you do it’s magical. It’s the most beautiful thing on stage when you share a moment with your partner that no one else truly understands. I was honoured to dance this with guest artist Cedric Ygnace for the Sydney season.
Stanton Welch’s The Sleeping Beauty
I love The Sleeping Beauty because it’s really classical, and that’s what you always dream of dancing as a little girl. I performed the role of the Lilac Fairy, which is very challenging. When I perform it I really feel like I’ve been taken away to another world. Read the rest of this entry »
The Silver Rosetells the tale of the Marschallin, a celebrated actress who is facing the passing of time and the fading of her youth. The Marschallin’s lover Octavian finds himself unexpectedly enraptured by Sophie, a younger woman. While watching her lover drift into the arms of another, the Marschallin remains resilient but finds herself in the shadow of young love. Graeme Murphy choreographed the role of the Marschallin on Sherelle Charge for the Bavarian State Ballet. Now Sherelle is teaching principal ballerinas of The Australian Ballet the ways of this complex character.
The Marschallin is a beautiful, strong character. Do you think she might go down as one of those roles dancers dream to perform?
Absolutely. It’s a character that gives the ballerina a chance to delve deeply into her emotional side. What’s so enjoyable for the dancer performing the Marschallin is that she has this dual personality. She shows an external strength but, internally, she’s very fragile. She’s really struggling with her personal life and how she’s aging. It’s an issue you see every day in Hollywood, with women filling their face full of Botox and trying to do everything to stop themselves from getting old. Time is something that affects the Marschallin deeply, and not just physically. She’s had a history of many men and she’s realising this is finishing. It’s not her personal look that’s changing – it’s her whole life.
When the Marschallin is on stage, you get a real sense of her past. What kind of history did you create for her?
I think you craft a history for every role you perform on stage. But in The Silver Rose you really have the chance to see that she has a story to tell. In the initial scene she is having a nightmare about her past lovers. You can see that she was always very dependent on her youth and beauty. Read the rest of this entry »
Picture this: Mikhail Baryshnikov in a dusty room, being seduced by a red-lipped grim reaper. He throws himself onto wooden furniture and is eventually coerced into committing suicide. This is the opening sequence to Taylor Hackford’s 1985 film White Knights in which Nikolai Rodchenko (Baryshnikov) and evil Colonel Chaiko mimic the two rival nations – Russia and the US – during the Cold War.
What follows is a drama slash dance film set in Leningrad, starring Baryshnikov alongside tap great Gregory Hines. Paralleling aspects of his own life, Baryshnikov plays Russian dancer and defector to the US Nikolai Rodchenko. Nikolai’s plane is forced to land in Russia, leaving him a prisoner to the evil Colonel Chaiko. Hines plays an American expatriate who becomes involved with Nikolai’s plight to escape Russia’s Orwellian society and return to America.
There is romance, car chases and a soundtrack from the likes of Lionel Ritchie, all punctuated by intelligent and powerful dance scenes. Highlights include Baryshnikov’s passionate solo to Vysotsky in a deserted Mariinsky Theatre and his infamous pirouette gamble. Hines bets Baryshnikov eleven-Rubles in exchange for eleven pirouettes. They are done effortlessly. Blink and you’ll miss them.
While you may have seen Baryshnikov’s acting abilities as Carrie Bradshaw’s ‘lover’ in the final season of Sex and the City, it is truly amazing to see his acting talent alongside his natural talent: dance.
Marissa Shirbin was a dancer, is now a romancer and an editorial assistant at Right Angle Publishing
In an age where superliners tend to resemble shopping malls on water, Darcey Bussell’s new role as godmother to the P&O’s Azura will inject some good old-fashioned glamour into the world of pleasure cruises.
Cruise ships used to be places where, if the movies are anything to go by, you might have chanced upon a dapper group of African-American musicians jamming with Fred Astaire in an Art Deco ship’s engine room. Now we have Darcey to rekindle the idea that cruise ships should be places of style and charm rather than floating theme parks where cattle roam hungrily amongst the video game arcades and 24-hour buffets.
Bussell, who is well known internationally for her career as a ballerina as well as her current role as Strictly Come Dancing judge in the UK, will smash open the champagne at a naming ceremony for Azura in Southampton in April next year.
Only a few months ago the world’s largest cruise liner, Oasis of the Seas, began its maiden voyage from Helsinki to Florida. Weighing in at roughly 226 000 tonnes to Azura’s 115 000, I would say it probably heaved rather than glided out of the harbour. Quality over quantity should certainly prevail when members of the Royal Ballet perform on deck at Azura’s launch next year.
Dear Colin,
Can you tell me what a male ballet dancer is called?
Kathy
Dear Kathy
That’s exactly what they are called – male dancers! Originally in Italy they were known as ‘ballerinos’ but this was never used outside of that country. In France they are called ‘danseurs’ and this is occasionally used in other countries, but in English speaking countries the regular term is simply ‘male dancers’. In The Australian Ballet they are also know by the rank they have obtained in the company – corps de ballet, coryphée, soloist, senior artist and our top rank, principal artist. You can learn more about our male dancers on our website.
Best wishes,
Colin
Dear Colin,
My nine-year-old son Orlando is only one of two boys enrolled in our local small town dance school. Although he is extremely dedicated, how can we encourage his continuing involvement in dance during future years when his resolve may be tested?
Rhonda
Dear Rhonda
The main problem with learning dance in a small town dance school is the lack of competition for male dancers. Males need to feel challenged so that they do not lose interest. As there is only one other male in the school, I suggest that you stimulate his interest with DVDs of dance, especially ones where the male dancers exhibit athletic as well as aesthetic excellence . It would also be a good idea if his teacher occasionally rewarded his hard work by allowing him to join a higher class. Finally, ask the teacher of the school to join The Australian Ballet Buddies programme. This allows the students of the school to correspond with a company dancer and, when the occasion arises, meet with them. More information can be found on our website .
Best wishes,
Colin
You can email your ballet questions to Colin at hello@behindballet.com
Images: Tristan Message takes a Boys’ Day class. Photography Jim McFarlane
Kevin Jackson. Photography Justin Smith
Lucinda Dunn, The Australian Ballet’s longest serving principal artist, is revered equally for her bulletproof technique and her sparkling approach to characterisation. As she prepares to tackle the complex and very demanding role of the Marschallin in Graeme Murphy’s The Silver Rose, Luci shares some of her favourite ballet moments so far.
The Sleeping Beauty
Aurora is one of the ultimate ‘ballerina’ roles to perform. It’s so pure and technical with big a story to tell, from Aurora’s 16th birthday right through to her marriage celebrations. Although I always find this ballet daunting and challenging, I have wonderful memories of performances where I danced to my full capacity. Plus, having a new version of a classic created on you and dancing the world premiere is every dancer’s dream. Don Quixote Don Quixote is another great technical, demanding and energetic three-act ballet, and there are so many facets to the role of Kitri. I gained an Australian Dance Award for my performances in 2007. Read the rest of this entry »
Principal Flautist Libby Pring has been playing the flute for the Australian Opera and Ballet Orchestra (the Australian Ballet’s Sydney orchestra) for 20 years. She spoke to Jessica Thompson about how playing music for ballet keeps her on her toes.
How does playing for ballet differ from playing for opera?
With opera we can hear the singers, and so although we do rely on the conductor we also rely on our ears and listen to what the singer’s doing. With ballet we rely very much on the conductor because we can’t actually see the dancers, and we really have to play according to the tempo the dancers want or that they can cope with. You have to trust the conductor and be ready for something like a sudden change of tempo – if a dancer takes off!
So the tempo can vary depending on who’s dancing?
Yes, very much. Nicolette [Fraillon, Music Director and Chief Conductor] always warns us “this is the faster team” or “this is a slower team”. If it’s a bit slower one night then a bit faster the next you just know it’s a different set of dancers.
Do you ever get tired of playing second fiddle, so to speak, to the dancing?
No, not really. We enjoy the ballet repertoire. It’s different from the opera repertoire in that it really is its own music – we’re not accompanying a singer. It’s more similar to the symphonic repertoire in a way. You should play with some sense of inspiration; I think that’s very important for us and also very important for the dancers – if they hear an orchestra really enjoying what they’re doing I’m sure that helps them feel inspired. Read the rest of this entry »
Introducing ‘Divertissements‘, a new series which sees pop-culture critic Martyn Pedler explore ballet’s strange cameo role in film and TV.
Early film pioneer George Méliès was not only a director; he was a magician and mad scientist too. One of his cinematic obsessions was with the “pliability of the body”, having it transform, change size, break into pieces, or disappear entirely.
His favourite bodies to use in creating these special effects? Those of ballerinas belonging to companies like Théâtre du Châtelet and the Folies Bergère.
In 1902, he created La Danseuse microscopique, unfortunately translated as The Dancing Midget. It shows a magician producing an egg that hatches a tiny ballerina. One year later, he made Le rêve d’un maître de ballet, or The Ballet-Master’s Dream. Melies plays a man frustrated with his attempts to create a ballet, and dreams of ever-transforming dancers atop his bed.
Ballerinas aren’t quite as obvious in his most famous creation, 1902’s Le voyage dans la lune, or A Trip To The Moon. Widely regarded as the first science fiction film, its image of a human-faced moon with a rocket shoved uncomfortably into its eye is iconic.
Méliès may not have found room for actual dancing, but dancers appear nonetheless. The last thing the space-faring astronomers of A Trip To The Moon see on earth are ballerinas waving them goodbye; the first thing they see on arrival are the same unearthly beauties, appearing in the moon’s sky as if by magic.
“I know you’ve heard it all before,” Ballet Mistress Wendy Walker says convivially. She is taking rehearsal for Swan Lake. Standing before her are a flock of girls, all in lines, in unison. It’s the fifth rehearsal of the week for the corps de ballet swans. Given that the steps are second nature to most of the dancers in the studio, it feels like the hundredth. Sighs of exasperation echo around the walls as we attempt to unpick and re-stitch the fabric of the choreography we have danced many times before. It is ironic that these rehearsals can at times seem tedious when routine is the life force of a dancer’s career. We are all about routine. A dancer will wake up and before they know it, one hand is on the barre and pliés have begun.
Days begin to melt into each other. Eventually repetition can be mind-numbing, dangerous even, for a dancer. One unconsidered step can result in injury. As equally as our days are routine, so are they highly unpredictable. Unlike a violin, which rests in its case overnight untouched, unaffected, a dancer’s body is undergoing constant change. No two days are the same. Four pirouettes one day and two the next. Perhaps this unpredictability is why we feel the need for formulaic days. Towards the end of a particularly long season of performing, I look around the dressing room at my colleagues, each girl with their pre-show rituals down pat, settling into a comfortable, unvaried pattern.
Behind Ballet is the blog of The Australian
Ballet. Looking at dance through the prism of
fashion, music, art and literature, we unravel
the stories behind our productions and mine
ballet’s juicy past to find the new in the old and
the old in the new.
Behind Ballet is taking a little holiday over the Christmas period, but we’ll be back in the new year.
Dear Colin,
