The six Dyad 1929 ballerinas emerge slowly and silently from the shadowy wings, preparing for their state of flight as the stage is flooded in a powerful wash of yellow. They stand casually and chat in their costumes: two-tone flesh and black leotards, white leotards and a full-length leotard whose bold black lines and points remind me of a lost nautical chart.
Steve Reich’s Double Sextet rises from the orchestra pit and increasingly frantic clarinet and piano notes race rhythmically over the stage. The combined energies of the ballerinas and the composition convey the miraculous pulse of nature.
After a week of rehearsals with Michael Gordon’s commissioned piece, Wayne McGregor discovered the Pulitzer Prize-winning Double Sextet was actually the perfect match for Dyad 1929. Steve Reich is a highly revered composer and his work has influenced many musicians in a variety of genres. The Guardian doesn’t apply quotes like this to anyone: “There’s just a handful of living composers who can legitimately claim to have altered the direction of musical history and Steve Reich is one of them.”
Double Sextet was designed for two sextets of live musicians, or six musicians playing against a recording of themselves to create composite rather than singular sounds. Flute, clarinet, vibraphone, piano, violin and cello all emerge at various points of the piece, which varies in intensity and speed.
When Dyad 1929 finishes, changes that are out of earshot are being made. Wayne circles his arms wildly to the dancers who now stand stationary and composed in tracksuit jackets and bare legs. Costume designer Moritz Junge steps in to examine the colour of the mesh on the back of Stephanie Williams’ costume.
The cyclorama comes up and a few conversational moments later I am looking at the set of Scuola di Ballo. A stylised trio of windows look out to an unseen landscape from weathered, Venetian-inspired walls. On the other side I imagine two Italian courtesans strolling through an expansive estate beneath lace umbrellas. Such visions are heard through Jean Francaix’s arrangement of Boccherini’s unmistakably pretty music. And Phillipe Starke’s Louis Ghost chairs in sugary sweet colours are a plastic fantastic ode to the charming but pompous Louis XVI style.
It’s the first time I’ve seen the costumes under stage lights and I must say costume designer Hugh Colman was spot on when he spoke about silk’s “clear colour values”. It’s like a celestial halo is lighting the way for each dress, adding great comic effect to Jane Casson’s Felicita as she ditzes across the studio floor. The alternate casts who will be retracing the same steps on subsequent nights occupy the seats to my left. You can tell they’re fellow dancers by the way they laugh and cheer Jane and Ben Davis as the hopeless Rigadon. A few rows in front, a young boy is silent but highly animated as he boxes his opponents on a hand-held video game. Just another routine day for the son of a great Russian choreographer. I won’t give too much away before opening night, except to say that the choreography is very playful, humorous, and melodramatic. There’s forbidden romance, rivalry, student rebellion, bitching and salacious gossip, all elevated to en pointe status using Ratmansky’s 21st century approach. Now it’s time to regain the lost art of shining my shoes. Opening night is upon us!
Photography Teagan Glenane
Concord opens tonight in Melbourne
