State Theatre, Melbourne,
February 24
A triple bill is always an ambitious task. Especially one with three different styles, each trying to blend a genre of contemporary dance with classical ballet. Throughout it all the skill, poise and strength of the dancers of the Australian Ballet shone through despite what was, at times, questionable material to work with. The last piece, Warumuk – in the dark night by Stephen Page, was clearly the highlight with its mix of movement, spirituality and haunting chants.
The contemporary abstract choreography of Graeme Murphy’s The Narrative of Nothing was in many ways a welcome retreat from the excessive opulence of Romeo and Juliet. The lighting design (Damien Cooper) was restrained but creative throughout – from the initial light bulb swung mechanically on an old disco ball slowly expanding its circle of light to the triangular central corridor and other effects later on. Many of the dancers turned in great performances - not least Lana Jones, who was electrifying in her first solo and thrilling throughout. Andrew Killian displayed his customary fluidity, strength and impeccable line and Chengwu Guo impressed with his commitment and energy, but the whole cast were exemplary in their athleticism and strength. There were interesting choreographic moments, making and tracing shapes with bodies, while the head hold of the girl (Lana Jones) in a later pas de deux had an underlying hint of violence, borne out by the vaguely threatening “chorus” of male dancers.
The problem with a purely abstract work with no storyline or emotion to guide the audience is always how to sustain interest and continuity over any length of time, and this problem was not wholly successfully resolved in The Narrative of Nothing. The monotonic, off-key modern classical music (Brett Dean) added to the disjointed effect and did not help in this regard. But even if the ideas and material were not quite enough to sustain the length of the piece, The Narrative of Nothing showed once again that Murphy is prepared to be innovative and creative. Elements of the piece showed him at his creative and original best.
There’s definitely a prince involved, Gideon Obarzanek’s deconstructed post-modernist take on Swan Lake, was performed by dancers from the Australian Ballet as well as Chunky Move. It was in many ways akin to taking an Old Master painting and scribbling over it. Actually whole sections of the original survived only to be displaced by these lesser additions. The addition of dialogue was a worthwhile experiment, potentially adding a new personal dimension to the story and opening the ballet up to a reappraisal. However, it was not always audible and at times seemed to descend into an adolescent puerility.
One also wonders about the value of taking a great work like Swan Lake and piggy backing a ride on it. As it was, the new show was grafted onto the old one, but the old one is so strong that it ends up making the new one appear out of its league. In fact it was a testament to the original choreography that the cygnets’ dance, even taken apart and gently sent up, still triumphs, not least in Madeleine Eastoe’s brilliant dancing, and even in its isolated head movements as performed by the ensemble. In fact Madeleine Eastoe, who has fully grown into the stature of a true ballerina, manages to transcend her entire context and shine as Odette. And when the Prince – Kevin Jackson – does fleetingly appear, he again transcends all that has come before with the sheer power and emotion of his dancing. Swan Lake is, deep down, a narrative of redemption and love which we all yearn for, phrased in the teasing irreducible terms of a myth – and that, alongside the sublime score, is part of its lasting appeal.
There were laughs at perceived balletic in-jokes among the first night audience, yet, even taken on its own terms, most of There’s definitely a prince involved was certainly no laughing matter – another tribute to the strength and potency of the original.
However, what this work did demonstrate was, oddly enough, Obarzanek’s talent for staging a ballet. There were some beautiful groupings immaculately arranged on stage which showed a fine eye for detail and for maximum theatrical and artistic impact. The closing scene, in particular, was a stroke of genius, the group of silhouetted dancers touching on the sublime.
With Stephen Page’s Warumuk – in the dark night, a collaboration with Bangarra Dance Theatre, we are back on what is, for Bangarra, familiar ground. Page explores the Yolngu creation stories telling of the night sky and the constellations of stars in a contemporary indigenous idiom infused with a ritual feel. Often when we speak of a work of art being “modern” we do not realize that that word itself has been caught in a time warp and that much of what we name “modern” today was actually “modern” in the last century – like the 1930s or 1960s. Just calling something “modern” does not necessarily mean it is the way forward in our century. Bangarra, though, is managing to come up with an interesting contemporary synthesis, one strongly rooted in the past but with the potential to take us into the future, both choreographically and with a convincing depth of humanity.
In many ways Warumuk was typical of the Bangarra style, but it did not descend into cliché. At its best, Bangarra opens a window onto another dimension of reality, symbolised in this piece by the rope as a ladder linking earth and sky.
There were many beautiful moments – Vivienne Wong as the delicate Evening Star, integrating classical technique with the indigenous style, Deborah Brown showing the beauty and purity of her dancing as the Morning Star, Elma Kris and Waangenga Blanco with their powerful gravitas and strong presence, the wavelike movements of the Seven Sisters, all enhanced by the chants and songs woven into the score, the sensitive lighting design and shifting paintings of Jacob Nash’s backdrop (one seemed strangely reminiscent of Klimt). The costumes also were particularly beautiful (Jennifer Irwin), floating and flowing as part of the magical nightscape created by the dancers.
Following on from the success of Rites and Amalgamate, Warumuk was a worthy successor to these previous collaborations between the Australian Ballet and Bangarra, and an Australian triumph – an example of truly Australian dance linked to this land.
- IRINA KUZMINSKY