What’s involved in Gideon Obarzanek’s brand-new work for the Infinity program? There’s definitely spoken word. There’s definitely deconstructed Swan Lake choreography. There will definitely be a mix of the contemporary and the classical. And there will be guests from the contemporary dance scene joining our dancers. It’s an intriguing mash-up of styles!

We can’t wait to see the full work unveiled later this month.

You can see There’s Definitely a Prince Involved as part of the Infinity program, which opens in Melbourne on 24 February and in Sydney on 5 April. Tickets on sale now.

Read more about Infinity

All photography in this post by Lynette Wills

After making the spectacular story ballet Romeo & Juliet for The Australian Ballet in 2011, Graeme Murphy has returned to the basics for his new abstract one-act work The Narrative of Nothing. His inspirations are the dancers and Brett Dean’s Fire Music. Photographer Lynette Wills captured Graeme at work on an intriguing passage of the ballet, which shows his trademark intricate yet flowing movement.

You can see The Narrative of Nothing as part of the Infinity program, which opens in Melbourne on 24 February and in Sydney on 5 April. Tickets on sale now.

Read more about Infinity

All photography in this post by Lynette Wills

[Show as slideshow]

It’s been a great joy to have Stephen Page and the dancers of Bangarra Dance Theatre back in the studios with us making Stephen’s new work Warumuk – in the dark night for the Infinity program. The blend of classical and Indigenous movement is unique in the world and it’s immensely exciting to see this work take shape. We’ll be taking this piece on our New York tour in June.

You can see Warumuk – in the dark night as part of the Infinity program, which opens in Melbourne on 24 February and in Sydney on 5 April. Tickets on sale now.

Read more about Infinity

All photography in this post by Lynette Wills

Vote for your favourite in the People’s Choice Award and you’ll be in the running to win a trip to Sydney to see The Australian Ballet.

What prompted the decision to end your ballet career?
I’d been dealing with an ongoing ankle injury, and surgery was the only option. It would either “save me” or completely end my career. After the surgery it seemed as though the operation had been successful but I was not able to work at 100% capacity every day, which is impossible when you are a principal artist. You need to rehearse and perform at full capacity, and my injury would not allow me to continue working that way. It was extremely stressful not to be able to end my career on my terms. I was really coming into my own as an artist and I was looking forward to revisiting roles with increased confidence, skill and enjoyment. Fortunately my last full-length ballet was Graeme Murphy’s Swan Lake and the role didn’t require me to do the big solos in tights. It was one of my favourite roles and I was so grateful to finish in a work I loved; and the experience of dancing with Rachael Rawlins was an absolute joy.

I continued to dance for several years by transferring into musical theatre, and I’ve managed to dance the Older Billy dream ballet sequence in Billy Elliot on and off for the past five years with a “fake it till you make it” motto!

It was special to be a guest with Morphoses for the Sydney Festival and do my last “real ballet” duet with Lucinda Dunn, who’s been one of my favourite partners since we were training together at The Royal Ballet School. Each time I thought my career was over there have been a few bonus “one last time” treats to savour.

Tell us about the directions life has taken since then.
I focused on pursuing dance avenues and trained to improve my skills so that I could move into musical theatre, which has less demanding physical requirements. I was blessed: I was cast in Fiddler On the Roof, Thoroughly Modern Millie and Billy Elliot, which eventually took me to Broadway. I enjoyed being a soloist guest artist with Opera Australia and the Artist Liaison for Sydney Festival for three years. I worked in subscriptions ticketing for the Ensemble theatre and Sydney Theatre Company while I auditioned for musicals and trained my voice.
Then I moved to New York. My time in the Big Apple has been incredible, and challenging. My adventures have included performing for six months on Broadway, being a faculty member of the Broadway Dreams Foundation, working as an intern in a major casting agency for theatre and film and as a day manager of an Australian restaurant, and often being an “out of work” actor, auditioning and praying for the next contract.

Has photography always been a passion?
I have always taken lots of photos. In the past few years, having acquired a serious camera, I have become passionate about photography and I’m in one of the best places in the world for it. It’s the closest thing to ballet in terms of exciting my artist’s soul and allowing me to have a “voice” and be creative on my own terms.

What advice would you give to dancers about their post-ballet careers?
Try and identify interests and passions before you leave the ballet. I was accepted into a Graduate Diploma when I left TAB and eventually decided that was not the career I wanted to pursue. I am still searching, and trying to redefine myself professionally. I don’t regret the choices I made while I was still dancing but there are things I could have done to make some periods easier! The cliché expression of “it’s over so soon” could not be more true.

Matt’s photography exhibition Stepping Stones is now showing at blank space gallery in Surry Hills, Sydney until 3 February. 

And here’s a word from Sue Mayes, The Australian Ballet’s Principal Physiotherapist:

It has been a thrill to hear of the developments in Matt’s fabulous career. He had a fantastic approach to his rehabilitation, which provided him with the skills to manage his injuries in musical theatre and enabled him to keep dancing. Unfortunately, serious injury can result in an early retirement from classical ballet. Thankfully, it is rare these days for a dancer in our company to have to end their career in ballet due to injury. Dancers are now dancing longer and the serious injury and surgery rates are much lower than ten years ago.

Did the knowledge that Fire Music would be used for choreography influence your work?
It did, actually. Graeme said to me quite plainly from the outset: “Write the piece you want to write. Don’t worry about what I might make of it.” But I think the knowledge of it being the motor, the engine, for a piece of dance theatre was in the back of mind, and quite happily so. I felt the piece going in certain rhythmic directions … [it] really takes off in certain moments. It has a high energy. Originally, that was to do with the dynamics and propulsion of fire; I’d spent a bit of time talking with a fire scientist from the CSIRO. But then it took on its own dynamic, and part of that was the knowledge that this would be used on stage.

Did the physics of fire provide you with a system for composition?
[The scientist] showed me maps, diagrams, even videos of fires that they’d tracked … but that was only one part of the story really, and in the end it didn’t correlate closely enough with where I wanted to go. Once the piece started to evolve in terms of sounds and motifs and energy of its own, it took on its own life – a bit like a fire, it just started spreading. [Parts of it] have a manic quality; it’s technically quite challenging, it has a very fast inner life, very fast passage work, but the main pulse of the piece is fairly steady – so it has these big bones, and this relentless pushing forward, all the while darting out in different directions.

In one part of Fire Music, you use electric guitar to signify the “momentous, dizzying heat” of Black Saturday. Have you used other sounds in that evocative way?
There are satellite groups of instruments that are out in the theatre … a lot of the fast, powerful fire music is heralded by [trumpet] fanfares that resound around the whole space. There’s something about the theatricality of the sound being all around you; someone who’d heard the piece said that it’s a bit like there’s no escape, like a fire. It envelops the whole space. There are quite a few electronic sounds, most of which come from natural sources. There are a lot of closely miked thunder-sheet sounds right at the opening. In there somewhere is a recording that I made myself of a scraping, booming door in the Old Melbourne Gaol.

Do you often use live recorded sound in your electronic work?
When I use electronics, I prefer the sound to be recorded, live sound, which will then take on a life of its own. I must say I’m not such a great fan of electronically generated sounds. They end up sounding so dated so quickly, even now when so much is possible. It’s like a TV show that’s even 10 years old – you’ll see an old phone, and suddenly it’s a time piece. Live-recorded sound is more timeless, and there’s something there that’s real, I like that. And I think that’s why it links up more successfully with the orchestral sound, in my opinion. As opposed to having the orchestra, and then this Dr Who sound component plonked on top of it.

Do you often compose for dance?
This work is the first time I’ve been specifically commissioned by a company to write a work for orchestra [that will be] danced. But it was a piece for dance that was one of the first international works of mine to get attention. That was a score for Jiří Kylián, for a work of his called One of a Kind. It wasn’t orchestral, it was just a solo cellist and the rest was electronic. Up until that point I didn’t know a huge amount about dance, and certainly not contemporary dance of his mould. That was an incredibly great way to start – at the top, with one of the masters!

You can hear Fire Music in the Infinity program,  which opens in Melbourne on 24 February and in Sydney on 5 April. Tickets on sale now.

Read more about Infinity