31 August 2010
By Juliet Burnett
filed under From the studio
George Balanchine famously stated: “I don’t want people who want to dance, I want people who have to dance”. I was reminded of this quote when I had the privilege of seeing the incomparable Stephen Fry talk at the Regent Theatre in Melbourne. Regaling us with charming and often hilarious tales of discovering and pursuing his passions, at one point he recounted the scene from the cinematic masterpiece The Red Shoes in which our aspiring ballerina Victoria Page first encounters ballet company impresario Boris Lermentov:
Lermentov: Why do you want to dance?
Page: Why do you want to live?
Lermentov: Well I don’t know exactly why, er, but I must.
Page: That’s my answer too.
Fry used this analogy to exemplify the difference between mere desire and inexplicable need. Like involuntary functions as mundane but vital as breathing – for Fry, writing became his lifeblood; essential to his existence. I walked away from Fry’s talk feeling inspired and compelled to introspection. I was fascinated by this notion of want versus need and how pertinent it is in shaping one’s destiny. I also wondered whether, like an involuntary function, its manifestation is so natural, so right, that it is imperceptible, or whether someone has to experience a single defining moment to know that they are fulfilling their true calling. I’m often asked at what point in my life I decided to become a ballet dancer. My answer is always vague, a patchwork of various turning points and epiphanies (the day that my teacher Mrs Jenkins suggested to my parents, when I was ten years old, that I come in for private ballet lessons after school because she recognised talent in me; going to see Sydney Dance Company in Graeme Murphy’s Berlin aged 12; watching Alessandra Ferri and Julio Bocca perform the ‘Balcony Pas de Deux’ from Romeo and Juliet on video, aged 14; witnessing the pride and enjoyment it endlessly gave my parents and those around me and realising that I shared those feelings in my dancing). Is the fact that I am now eight years into a happy career and have been dancing for a total 21 of my 26 years enough to confirm that dancing was my lifeblood? Do I want to dance or do I need to dance?
Juliet Burnett. Photography Jo Duck
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25 August 2010
By Behind Ballet
filed under Edge of night, From the studio
Since joining The Australian Ballet 15 years ago, Principal Artist Olivia Bell has performed many powerful lead roles: Clara’s dream ballerina the Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker, the warrior-like Flavia in Spartacus and the duplicitous Manon. After a short hiatus, Olivia returns to The Australian Ballet to perform the leading lady in red in Stephen Baynes’ At the edge of night. As she prepares for the role, Olivia shares some of her favourite performances to date.
The Nutcracker, Sugar Plum Fairy
Tchaikovsky’s score makes this magical ballet a favourite of mine. The Sugar Plum Fairy solo in act two is one of ballet’s most recognised pieces of music and, for me, epitomises the music of mystical dancing fairies. I have one particularly special memory of performing this role at the Sydney Opera House with my family in the audience as I was promoted to principal artist and presented flowers on stage by my husband, Nicholas. A moment I hold close to my heart.
Other Dances
This is a pas de deux choreographed by Jerome Robbins originally for Natalia Makarova and Mikhail Baryshnikov, two of my all-time favourite dancers. I was plucked from the corps de ballet to perform this ballet. It contains all the elements I love about dancing. The dance gradually builds up in intensity and technical complexity until it finally explodes in a flourish of fluid and luxurious movements. It also combines subtle Russian undertones that reflect my heritage. Read the rest of this entry »
13 August 2010
By Lydia Gibala
filed under Edge of night, From the studio
With his new work Halcyon premiering on the mainstage in less than a fortnight, Tim Harbour has made a seamless transition from the top ranks of The Australian Ballet to the role of fledgling choreographer. We chatted to Tim about Halcyon and how he balances the excitement and hard work involved in his courageous career shift.
How did you come up with the title for your piece and what is it about?
Halcyon is the name of the lead character in a Greek myth. She falls in love with a mortal and they anger the Gods. He is killed and she redeems his body by transforming into the Halcyon, a type of kingfisher.
You drew inspiration from a Greek mythological love story. Where else do you draw inspiration from?
While I was thinking and working on this ballet I turned to works by Martha Graham, for the way she told stories through strong theatrical choreography. I’ve often thought of Graeme Murphy for the same reason. I also read about the art of the playwright and the structure of plays. I also looked to the stage and costume designers, and I collected a gazillion images that helped us to formulate visual ideas. Read the rest of this entry »
15 July 2010
By Behind Ballet
filed under From the studio
“Pas de deux are the best part of my job. Dancing with someone, together, is a kind of special that words cannot describe.” Robert Curran
A steamy seduction between young lovers. A tragic duet ending in death and love lost. A powerful partnership in which dancers reach monumental heights of physical ability. Pas de deux, French for ‘dance for two’, come in many forms and Principal Artist Robert Curran can’t dance enough of them. In no particular order, these are three of Robert’s favourites. The duet above is from Kenneth MacMillan’s smouldering ballet Manon. Read the rest of this entry »
25 June 2010
By Behind Ballet
filed under Edge of night, From the studio
Stephen Baynes’ ballets are famously beautiful, often exploring themes of memory, love and loss. In the ’80s, Dame Peggy van Praagh encouraged the Adelaide-born dancer to flex his choreographic muscle. Today, Stephen is The Australian Ballet’s resident choreographer and has worked with companies worldwide. Edge of night features two beloved works by Stephen. In the first of two interviews, we chat to Stephen about Rachmaninov, writers’ block and his achingly romantic At the edge of night.
You’ve used the Rachmaninov score to inspire your choreography in At the edge of night. Does the choreography come before the music or the music before the choreography?
Never the choreography before the music. It’s usually a matter of finding a piece of music or knowing a piece of music. Apart from a couple of commissioned scores where there’s been an idea, and the music has been written after that idea, the music is always the primary motivation for the choreography.
If you could ask Rachmaninov one question, what would it be?
I’d ask him how personal his Preludes [the music used in At the edge of night] are to him. Are they autobiographical in any way? I’m sure that’s not something he’d let on! There’s a certain dialogue in them; each of them paint a little picture and set a mood. I sometimes think about the way music assists film – it does the same for choreography. So you imagine a scene, a story, a mood or an atmosphere in the music.
What are the kinds of feelings you want the dancers to communicate on stage?
Each of the Preludes are a little different. The ballet is very oblique, and very cryptic. It’s about a woman looking back on her past. But it’s left open for interpretation; I left it open deliberately. It’s mostly pas de deux, so they naturally have a romantic feel about them. One pas de deux features a dancer who’s an idyllic youth, in the bloom of first love. Another is parting. And another is just a memory. So they have their own stories. Read the rest of this entry »
15 June 2010
By Isabel Dunstan
filed under Edge of night, From the studio
Inspired by an ancient Greek myth, Tim Harbour’s brand-new ballet Halcyon explores weighty themes of life, death, pride, betrayal and transformation. We snuck into the studio recently to photograph rehearsals for Tim’s mainstage debut and caught up with him to find out how the work’s progressing.
Can you shed some light on Halcyon’s concept?
It’s based on a Greek myth. The allure of any Greek myth is that they’re always really simple. Even though this one is simple, it’s been a real challenge to get across the ideas in 25 minutes. As far as the narrative goes, it’ll be far more abstracted than Coppélia for example. Loads of imagery and symbolism; they’re the mechanisms I’ll be using to drive the story. Hopefully it’ll be an emotional drama.
Your work has never really been narrative-based. It’s always been quite poetic and abstract, correct?
Yeah, I’ve always tried to have a theme or some kind of poetic idea …
So why the change?
Ah, well, you’ve got to! This is a really big opportunity for me – it might be the only time I ever do something like this. I might as well try it. Even though this is a highly pressurised opportunity – a lot of people are going to see it; it’s The Australian Ballet, and there’s a lot of expectation – I do have the confidence of coming back to the dancers who I created my first choreographic works on. My time away has always been about coming back to this opportunity to try something bigger. So I’m confident in my Read the rest of this entry »
7 May 2010
By Jessica Thomson
filed under Coppélia, From the studio
Coppélia’s Franz and Swanilda are roles traditionally given to ballet stars on the rise. Lana Jones and Daniel Gaudiello are not playing the trouble-making pair together on stage but, as newlyweds, they’ll be sharing notes after hours. Franz is Daniel’s first full-length performance in a classic three-act ballet. And, for Lana, Swanilda is a role most ballerinas only dream of dancing. Jessica Thomson caught up with Lana and Daniel while they were preparing for two of ballet’s most iconic roles.
Q&A with Daniel Gaudiello
Do you feel this is something of a breakthrough role for you – your first full-length lead in one of the classics?
That’s right, it will be. It’ll be a great challenge. And I don’t know if it’ll be too much for me but I should be fine because it’s not as huge as some of the other ballets, I hope! You know, there are some ballets where you’re ‘on’ all the time, but I think this ballet might be a good step – a platform to get to the big stuff.
What are you looking forward to most about playing Franz?
Everything about it: putting myself into a three-act ballet for starters, and carrying the show. I’m looking forward to getting into the character and taking the audience on Franz’ journey. I’m going to enjoy the dancing, because it feels really nice on the body. And I’m going to enjoy the character in the second act; I go to town on the character. I really look forward to the acting. I guess that’s why I dance – to be a new character every day is fun.
Even though you’re not dancing with Lana, what’s it like to share the experience of both being cast in these roles for the first time (well, in a professional sense anyway!)?
It’s great to be in the same boat and, yeah, we can share experiences. It’s nice to dance together, but when we dance apart it’s almost easier because you’re leaving work at work, and when you come home it’s not like, ‘My partner was crap … Oh! You’re my partner!’ Read the rest of this entry »
22 February 2010
By Isabel Dunstan
filed under From the studio, The Silver Rose
In just four days the curtain will rise on The Silver Rose. With an all-Australian creative team, Graeme Murphy and Janet Vernon took this quintessentially European story and tailored it for the ballet stage. We chatted to the master choreographers about how this extraordinarily lavish ballet got off the ground, and found its way home.
Where did the idea for The Silver Rose come from and was it a work you had been thinking about for a while?
Graeme: It’s something that had been in our minds for some time. Der Rosenkavalier was a particular favourite; Janet and I have always loved it musically. We loved the roles, and I have a thing for themes about age, love, loss, moving on and being left.
Ivan Liska, [director of the Bavarian State Ballet] asked us in 2004 to do a work. He wanted something for the family for the Christmas premiere season and The Silver Rose surfaced. Ironically Richard Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier had premiered in the same theatre in Munich. That was something that linked the ballet and the opera.
Janet: It was very short notice. We didn’t think we would be able to do it because we were working on Hua Mulan, Graeme had just finished choreographing Grand, and we’d just taken Swan Lake to London with The Australian Ballet.
What was it about the characters that appealed to you in a ballet context?
Graeme: They’re all large – they all read big. You have the mature, pensive, distraught, self-obsessed, slightly older Marschallin; and by contrast the total innocence of the fresh young flower [Sophie] and the puppy-love of adolescent youth [Octavian], which is really nice for a dance character. Then there’s the Baron who is a sympathetic buffoon, whose love is really based around desire, sex and lust. You just knew the actions for these incredibly intricate relationships could be explored in solos, duos and quartets.
Janet: And underneath those four principals there are the soloists (who are the paparazzi), and the entourage of hair dresser, make-up artist and couturier introduce interesting subplots as well. Read the rest of this entry »
20 January 2010
By Annie Carroll
filed under From the studio
Unlike so many evolving art forms, the roots of classical ballet technique remain deep and unwavering. As writing, music, and the visual arts have moved forward with each social progression, classical ballet can at times seem a significant yet somewhat static reminder of the past. However ballet and dance offer a greater opportunity to perceive the progress of women than any other art form. Ever since August Bournonville created the otherworldly Sylph in La Sylphide (1836), audiences have imagined the ballerina as a gauzy and delicate fantasy. Much like the carefully disarranged gardens of the Romantic era, she appeared in sweet disorder. What muscles she had were somehow hidden within a veil. How could someone so slight possess such graceful strength? In almost every classical and romantic ballet, it is the ballerina who needs the ‘prince’ to rescue her, to redeem her, to set her free. From Aurora’s need for an awakening kiss, to Manon’s desperate last few clutches at her lover, it is the vulnerability of women that links these enduring ballets.
Hurtle forward to 2009 to The Australian Ballet’s recent Concord season, in which Wayne McGregor’s Dyad 1929 proved that in modern choreography, the depiction of masculinity and femininity in dance is almost a fluid concept. Defined muscles draw shapes at speed. The gender boundaries blur and the stage thrives with the power of the human body. And in Sydney Dance Company’s latest work Mercury by Kenneth Kvarnstrom, the women are independent travellers, secure in their fate without the sworn love of a man. The modern, tangled relationships between man and woman are portrayed and tender emotions are conjured underneath the stage lights. All of this while the women twist, manipulate, and lift the men with inimitable power and poise. The sheer absence of fragility in the women is undeniable; the fleeting sylph, from whom all ballerinas were born, has left the theatre. Mercury and Dyad 1929 are the newest avatars in the evolution of women’s role on the dance stage. There is no sign of Giselle in Kylian’s Petite Mort, not a flutter of Odette in Forsythe’s In The Middle, Somewhat Elevated. Ballerinas have evolved into lithe and fierce creatures. Perhaps this evolution could be said to have begun with a certain hedonistic Russian by the name of George Balanchine. Read the rest of this entry »
8 January 2010
By Isabel Dunstan
filed under From the studio, Music
In the late 1940s, mathematician Rudolf Benesh caught his wife, Joan, a dancer with Sadler’s Wells, struggling to remember and record her steps. Later at work in his office, he jotted down a few lines meant to represent someone sitting at a desk, then fetched a colleague and asked for a second opinion. Soon an entire system of written symbols was created to represent all ballet’s possible movement.
Those who practice this system are known as choreologists. There are only a handful of them in the world, but The Australian Ballet has been at the forefront of documenting ballet since its inception. Our current Choreologist, Mark Kay, took time to chat about his work.
What is choreology?
Well, that’s a big question. Everyone thinks I write the ballets – which is not correct at all. Choreology is a form of notation where you write all the steps down and it’s something I picked up at The Australian Ballet School. I went through an injury spate and so I took this on. I was encouraged by the staff there because they thought I had the potential. I went to London, did a choreology course and my dancing career came to an abrupt halt early in my life. But I got this job and have been doing choreology ever since.
For the dance companies who don’t have a choreologist, how do they record dance?
Video. A lot of people think that video is the most reliable form of recording dance. I mean, it has its advantages, but it has its disadvantages as well. For example, if you focus on only a few dancers, there’ll be people dancing on the other parts of the stage and you won’t be able to see what they’re doing. The major classical ballet companies in the world have a choreologist. Then there’s The Royal Ballet and they have two or three on staff. Read the rest of this entry »
