Australian Ballet School
THE SNOW QUEEN
Playhouse, Victorian Arts Centre
November, 2010
PETAL Miller-Ashmole may not be the most innovative of choreographers, but she excels at her own brand of elegant classicism. The Snow Queen, her creation for the Australian Ballet School, is an ideal vehicle for an end-of-year performance: plenty of meaty soloist roles, some lively ensemble work and a general air of magic and celebration.
The ballet is based on a story by Hans Christian Andersen, which tells of a troll-made mirror that shatters, leaving tiny fragments to lodge like sand in eyes and hearts. The mirror distorts sight, making everything seem bad and worthless, and hardens hearts. This fate befalls Kai, a young boy; he becomes cruel and indifferent, spurning his dear friend Gerda and running away with the Snow Queen. Gerda refuses to accept his disappearance and goes in search of him. With the help of a gypsy thief and a reindeer, she rescues him, melts his heart and brings him home.
In the story Kai and Gerda are children, but in the ballet they are older and Kai is more lover-like, carrying a rose to his adored.
There are plenty of echoes in this work of the classical canon: a village-set first act in which the lovers disport with their respective groups of friends, recalling Giselle; the Don Q-esque stylings of the gypsy band; the Nutcracker swirling of a snowflake corps; a Rose Adagio-type sequence where the Snow Queen shows off with her lackeys. These resonances set up a hazy, comfortable feeling of familiarity. But Miller-Ashmole keeps things sharp with crisp phrasing and an athletic style featuring plenty of lifts and jumps. The robber girl steals the show with her Kitri leaps and fouettes.
The other great strength of this show is its charming sets and costumes by that master of Australian design, Hugh Colman. The village has a Russian feel, with a Matrioska brightness and simplicity. The Snow Queen’s magnificent costume, all whipping silver bugle beads and glacier-blue cloak, gives her a cachet that belies her relatively brief appearance. The gypsy robbers are a patchwork triumph, all raffish hair and deconstructed, down-on-its-luck finery. The noble reindeer has a cleverly suggested pelt made of stitched together fawns and chocolate browns.
All in all, it’s a close-to-Christmas delight in the manner of a traditional Nutcracker, and its child-heavy audience seemed suitably entranced. Performances, as you’d expect from the Australian Ballet School, were strong, with good backing from a well-drilled corps. Bronte Kelly was a sweet but determined Gerda, soaring through her lifts with a pretty line. Her Kai, Cameron Hunter, had a long-limbed lyricism, and the two had a warm rapport. Hannah O’Neill was a coquettish Snow Queen – an interesting interpretation, as the role could easily have been played with a Queen of the Wilis-ish hauteur. O’Neill was positively mischievous, but it worked, and her balances were delightful. But star of the show was Jill Ogai, who ripped through the robber girl’s endless turns and leaps with an exhilarating attack.
– ROSE MULREADY