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I went to Sylvia twice. And if I'd written this review 10 days ago, it would have been considerably more negative than it is! Anyway, it's a sprawlling ballet. The Australian version was choreographed by Stanton Welsh, and he introduced two more love stories, the first between the gods Artemis and Orion, the second between god and mortal (Eros and Psyche). Anyway, trying to keep all these Greeks separate was impossible, not only for me but for lots of the audience with whom I talked. So first time I had no idea what was going on. And while the individual dancers and the pdd were superb, really superb, I found the ensemble pieces (lots of military and militant nymphs) both ragged at times and always overwhelmimg. Also, on the first night, the lighting was adventurous and amazing, but tended to obscure the action. This was solved by the time of my second viewing. So second time around individuals and pdd still wonderful; ensemble pieces much less intrusive. Lighting much improved; and I finally had some idea of the various stories being enacted on stage, so overall a pleasant evening, which I would not have said originally.

A great damcer. A great lady. RIP

In the last month, I've seen Macmillan's R&J with Karlsruhe Ballet, Cranko's R&J (twice!) with Stuttgart Ballet, and now QB's R&J. And I still love the ballet! Both versions! Mia Heathcote was Juliet, and Romeo was danced by Patricio Reve, who is so new to the company that he's not yet listed in the program. He is another Cuban dancer, and brought the dash and brio that all Cuban male dancers seem to have to the role. Mia Heathcote was a beautiful, strong, and determined Juliet. (Her father, Stephen Heathcote was Lord Capulet ... nothing like keeping things in the family!) Vito Berlesconi danced Tybalt with the usual glower. I could wish that just occasionally dancers could create a more likable Tybalt, something that could be done while preserving his role in provoking Romeo and killing Mercutio (Kohei Iwamoto) - and not from the rear! But Tybalt could be a much more interesting character than the bully he is generally portrayed as. But it was a great production, and showed the company to great advantage. The marketplace scenes, and the Capulet,s ball were wonderful. So I still love R&J!

Mum died on Sunday and I'm at the ballet on Tuesday. She would have approved but, particularly as it was Natalia Osipova's Pure Dance, with (be still my beating heart ), David Hallberg. The evening consisted of 6 individual works, starting with the main pdd from Antony Tudor's The Leaves are Fading. The program says the pdd explores 'reminiscence of love and the bittersweet beauty of the passing of life'. That is not how I saw it. For me, it was a glorious celebration of love. Osipova was electric, Hallberg right there with her. Next up was Ivan Perez' Flutter and we were suddenly in a different universe of movement. Osipova was partnered by Jonathon Goddard, but I really didn't like the piece, so cannot do either him or Osipova justice. This was followed by a moody solo from Hallberg, Absentia. Great. Hallberg seemed to withdraw into himself, silent and alone. He was 'partenered' by a huge shadow of himself, a shadow which he completely ignored, increasing the absence of the title. After interval, Osipova danced Six Years Later (Roy Assaf) with Jason Kittelberger. Superb. We do not learn exactly what happened six years ago, but the dance was tender, forgiving, reaching out for the future. It was followed by Yuka Oishi's Ave Maria, which I found a little bland, in spite of Osipova's dancing. And then the finale, Alex Ratmansky's Valse Triste. A triumph, Osipova and Hallberg together creating all the ups and downs of a relationship ... tender, passionate, furious ... overall a great conclusion to a wonderful evening. Which I needed. Thanks

A heartfelt thanks to everyone who responded to my post. You don't know me but you reached out to me and I can only say a very humble thank you. The support of people on this forum has been very important to me. So once again, thank you.

My Mum died last Sunday. She was 94. But why am I writing a memorial here, on the BalletcoForum website? Well, Mum was entirely responsible for my love of ballet. About 6 years ago (yes, so recent!), Mum could no longer follow the narrative thread in shows such as Midsomer Murders and New Tricks. Quite independently, I was given a ticket to The Australian Ballet's La Bayadere. Mum was very jelous, but given her very limited mobility, getting her to the Opera House, not to mention sitting through a three hour ballet, was just not on. So I bought a couple of DVDs. The first was a production of the then Kirov's Swan Lake. I have written elsewhere that this was not a success. Mum thought Seigfried was sulky and, worse, stupid. Anyone could see that Odette and Odile were not the same people. The second was different. Nureyev's Don Quixote. A lovely, light, fun-filled production. Mum loved it. And we watched it every night (except 5!) from November to January, by which time I had found other ballet DVDs. This second batch included Giselle, with Alina Cojocaru. And I was hooked. Fatally. So thanks Mum. She was a lively, laughter filled and feisty woman, a doctor, and you don't come across many professional women of her age, particularly in Australia. (My family emigrated from the UK in the mid-fifties. She never looked back.) She will be hugely missed, and not only by me. So Vale Mum. May you dance with the stars.

Last three performances of the Stuttgart tour: Neumeier's Kameliendame, Kilian's One of a Kind and Macmillan's Mayerling. Let's start with Kameliendame (Marti Fernandez Paixa and Miriam Kacerova). Great dancing, but I really don't know if I like it or not. I found the parallel between Marguerite and Manon initially interesting (Marguerite and Armand meet at a performance of Manon), but finally intrusive. I'd got the point. But the P de D! I need to see the ballet at least once more before I decide like/not like.and heaven only knows when that will be, as I don't think anyone in Australia has it. Pity. Kilian's One of a Kind I really liked, gritty as the story is. Spectacular dancing (Miriam Kacerova, again, and just about everyone else in the company!) Including some really wonderful partnering. Finally, Mayerling. What can I say? I approached it with trepidation, given the terrible nature of the story, but was completely enthralled. Friedemann Vogel gave a wonderful performance as Rudolf in his doomed downward spiral. Elisa Badenes was Mary Vetsera, his 'muse', pushing him into ever greater excesses. But while he sought oblivion, she, I don't think, believed in death. I think she expected to be sitting on a cloud, or some such, watching the action from Beyond with amusement. But what a performance from both of them, and from the rest of the cast. As it was the first time I have seen Mayerling, I could do little else but observe the rest of the cast, but even so, Princess Stephanie made a great impression. I will not easily forget her frozen disgust at the demi-monde of the brothel scene. Striking costuming, in shades of black, white and grey, with the occasional flash of colour, and pared back but effective scenery. So the end of an unforgettable trip, with jetlag to look forward to, and R&J with Queensland Ballet at the end of August.

Well, last week I saw Macmillan's R&J in Karlsruhe. This week it's Cranko's R&J in Stuttgart. Twice. I'll leave comments on the technical apects of the performances to more capable commentators than me. But I am constantly asked which I prefer. I don't. Both are wonderful works, and I love both of them, but I think that Macmillan really gets what it is to be 16, 17, 18 and absolutely, dilariously head over heels in love with a girl who similarly loves you. Think the balcony scene. Cranko is way too restrained. On the other hand, Cranko gets devastation, loss and grief. Act 3 is heart-rending. Is there anything in Cranko's life which explains this understanding? Macmillan Act 3, particularly in the tomb, too often descends into bathos and 'look at me.' In my opinion. The Stuttgart presentations were superb, especially David Moore as Romeo, and the following night Hyo-Jung Kang as Juliet. Now I have to wait till the end of next month for Queensland Ballet's presentation of the Macmillan version!

And for me, Shades of White is the first of nine performances with Stuttgart Ballet that I will see over the next 9 days. No white fatigue with me. John Cranko's Concert for Flute and Harp left me asking why more choreographers don't choreograph for a male corp de ballet. Strong, but such superb pas de deux, great footwork, really exciting dance. And the dancers seemed to be having a ball! Kingdom of the Shades, from La Bayadere was in fact the work that got me into my current infatuation. Well, actually I was appauled by the Orientalism of the piece, but the Kingdom of the Shades was utterly bewitching, so here I am. And SBs presentation shows that they are first and foremost a superb classical company. Balanchine's Symphony in C rounded out the evening. It's an absolute favourite of mine, and this evening was no exception. I walked out of the concert hall about 6 inches off the ground, and was still there next morning. And still 8 more productions to go!

So, you might ask, what's a well-brought-up Australian doing swanning around Karlsruhe? Apart from having a ball, that is. I'm here with Tours en L'aire's trip to the Stuttgart Ballet, and Karlsruhe is an optional add-on. (If anyone wants to know more about my wonderful experience with Tours en L'aire, send me a PM). 5 days, 3 ballets, Macmillan's Romeo and Juliet, Wheeldon's Swan Lake, and a new work by Thiago Bordin, Zukunft Barucht Herkunft, which I have translated as Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow: a history of ballet in Karlsruhe over the last 250 years. We kicked off with Romeo and Juliet and I was impressed. Karlsruhe Ballet company is small, about 45 dancers, and I had no great expectations, but they were impressive. Australian (!) Blythe Newman and Pablo Octavio danced the lead roles, and gave excellent interpretations of ecstatic if doomed love. The guy to watch out for, however, is Klevis Neva, whose Mercutio was wonderful. Swan Lake was, I think, less successful. Chemistry between the two leads, Harriet Mills and Zhe Le Xu was lacking and the corps de ballet a times a little ragged. But Rothbart was wonderful, and I really liked Wheeldon's depiction of him as a dissolute roue` intent on seduction. ( The ballet was set at the end of the 19th century in St Petersberg.) But overall, still a great presentation. Finally, Yesterday Today Tomorrow was, to my mind, the weakest of the three ballets. Divided into 9 parts, the first three, covering the beginning, the Baroque and the Romantic periods I really didn't like. Too much slapstick, girls poking each other, (incuding the eyes) and ordering the men around. It did however, relentlessly skewer the 'Hey, look at me' tendency. Things greatly improved after interval, as we moved into the Imperial Ballet, the Ballet Russe, WW2, (masterfully depicted in the legions of women with buckets who removed the rubble) the modern era and the future. The last sections would benefit from some judicious editing. But overall a woderful three nights of ballet, and Stuttgart is yet to come!

So the Bolshoi is back in Brisbane, six years after their earlier visit. I have no idea what brings such stellar companies to Brisbane, and nowhere else. La Scala, Royal Ballet, POB, ABT and now Bolshoi again. It is true that Brisbane is a delightful city with a winter not dissimilar to a standard European summer, but is that all? Anyway, the Bolshoi is here, with Spartacus and Jewels. Let's start with Spartacus. I'm sorry, but I did not warm to Spartacus. I did not care one scintilla for Spartacus or his wife; nor did the ever emoting Crassus or his lady do anything for me. My under thirties nephew commented about fillers, all those Roman soldiers marching around illustrating a) how invincible and b) how trully nasty they were. I hadn't seen things this way, but it gave me a useful filter for viewing the bits before and after the astonishing leaps and bounds produced by Mikhail Lobukhin as Spartacus and Artemy Belyakov as Crassus. And the techical level of the dancers, and especially Lobukhin and Belyakov, was extraordinary. The women, Yulia Stepanova (!) as Aegina and Anna Nikulina as Phrygia were also fantastic: it's a pity that the women tend to get forgotten because of those extraordinary leaps. Anyway, I'm glad that I saw Spartacus but also glad that I don't have another ticket. Jewels, but, was a very different kettle of fish. Brilliant. Fantastic. Wonderful. Supply your own adjective. The confidence displayed in Emeralds was breathtaking. Every extension, every lift, supported or unsupported, perfectly placed, perfectly executed. Anastasia Denisova was amazing, but so were others too numerous to mention. Rubies was less successful. Not enough sass. The best way I can think of expressing it is to say that the dancers gave the impression that they would go to a high-class wine bar before taking the train home. What I wanted to see (more sass) was a group that would go to an underground bar and after more cocktails than was generally recommended end up at his place. But technically supperb. Finally, Diamonds. Brought it all together. Capybara suggested I look out for Alena Kovaleva, and she, with Jacopo Tissi, danced the leading couple. What can I say? Beautiful. Such a distillation of classical Russian dance. Diamonds indeed. So now I have to wait with bated breath to see who's coming next year.

As selected sections of the doco that preceeds this work make clear, aboriginal dance has had a profound and lasting influence on Czech choreographer Jiri Kylian. His work, Stamping Ground is the central work in this three part program looking back at Bangarra's 30 year history. (30 years of 65,000). It is also the first time that the company has featured a non-indigenous work. And what a work it is! It opens with a single dancer on stage, a dancer who is replaced by another, and another. The 6 dancers introduced, they break into pounding duos and trios, the influence of aboriginal dance seen especially in the movement of the hands, the head and the neck. But it is influence, not imitation. Staming Ground is preceeded by the 2004 work Unaipon, by Francis Rings, now Associate Director of the company. This work celebrates the life of David Unaipon, Australia's first great aboriginal intellectual, in 7 parts, each dealing with an aspect of Unaipon's life. I remember best String Games, which involved the dancers interacting with lines of twine across the stage. String games in traditional life are a major means of story telling and passing on cultural knowledge. Finally, To Make Fire consists of extracts from four seminal works, starting with the 2008 work Mathinna. I found this last, commemorating as it does the kidnap and rape of young aboriginal women, acutely uncomfortable, especially as I grew up in Tasmania, where this dance is set. When I grew up, the genocide of Tasmanian aborigines was not even mentioned at school. Through, among other things, the work of Bangarra, and Bangarra's wonderful dancers this has changed. I left the theatre thoughtful and moved, and profoundly glad that even if the Royal Ballet is a long way from my finger tips, we have Bangarra, and Queensland Ballet, not to mention the Australian Ballet and Sydney Dance Theatre. Among others! How lucky am I?

Free speech is not as simple as it sounds. Young gay boys have committed suicide because of the homophobic comments made on-line. Is the right to say anything you want more important than young mens' lives?

I saw Queensland Ballet's Masters Series; Balanchine's Serenade, Kylian's Soldier's Mass and McIntyre's The Shadows Behind Us on consecutive nights last week, each night a similar distance from the stage, but on opposite sides of the theatre. I saw two rather different performances. First off was Serenade, a work that I have seen on Youtube, but never in real life. Superb. Really, different but superb, from both angles. The corps de ballet established a gloriously romantic setting for the action, if that is the right word. Yanela Pinera and Victor Estevez on Friday, followed by Laura Hidalgo and Kohei Iwamoto on Saturday encapsulated beauty and elegance, while Lucy Green, Georgia Swan and Patricio Reve on Friday and Lina Kim, Vanessa Morelli and Dylan Lackey on Saturday represented heartbreak, betrayal and the ballerina's vulnerability. I know this is a long list of utterly unfamiliar names, but these dancers deserve that their performances be recognised. They were wonderful. McIntyre's The Shadows Behind Us was, to my mind, much less successful. Friday night's performance I did not like at all. I was more impressed with the performance on Saturday night, but am not at all sure of the extent to which this was the result of sitting in a different section of the theatre. Trey McIntyre is a freelance choreographer and founder of the Trey McIntyre Project, a full time company based in Boise, Idaho. The Shadows Behind Us consists of 6 (mostly) pas de deux danced to what McIntyre calls pop songs. I am not sure that characterising songs such as 'Sometimes I feel like a motherless child' or 'Our day will come' as pop songs is appropriate, but the distance between the choreography of Serenade and that of The Shadows Behind Us could scarcely have been greater. The latter featured holds and lifts involving men and women grappling each other and throwing or at times dragging each other across the stage. Hmmmm. Finally, I really liked Kylian's Soldier's Mass, different again as it was. Danced by 12 male dancers, it is really unlike any ballet I have previously seen. It celebrates the comradeship and mutual support that develops between young soldiers, and is unrelentingly anti-war. Seemingly simple but actually fiendishly difficult choreography. Overall, a satisfying evening and I will remember Serenade for a long time to come.

You may remember that Graeme Murphy, TAB's famous choreographer, pulled out of presenting his latest work, The Little Prince only a couple of months before it was due to premiere. Ill health. Anyway, TAB replaced it, in Sydney, with Giselle, which was presented in Melbourne last year ( I saw it with David Hallberg as Albrecht. Unforgettable.) This presentation was good but not great. Ako Kondo was a feather-light Giselle, dazzled by the wonderful, good-looking, apparently considerate creature who was interested in her. You saw her move from dutiful daughter, remembering her mother's (undoubted) warnings, to confident and care-free woman, secure in her love. You saw her reluctance to hurt Hilarion (Andrew Killian) but her determination to respect her own feelings. Chengwu Guo, as Albrecht, was less impressive. He is a great dancer, capable of exploding into action, apparently from stillnes. However, his Albrecht showed no development. You did not see him gradually fall in love with Giselle. In fact his somewhat disengaged demenour at the beginning of Act 1 was largely unchanged at the end of the act. Act 2 was better, but I got little sense of the desperation which needs to underpin Albrecht's dancing. The dancing of the corps de ballet was wonderful, rivetting. In Act 1 they created a sunny, untroubled vision of village life against which the tragedy unfolded. In Act 2 they were steely and flint-hearted: exacting terrible revenge for their own suffering. Overall, a good evening, so I will avoid unnecessary comparisons with last year in Melbourne.😊

Sydney Dance Companies' latest celebrates 90 years of performance, which appears to be an improbably long time. Deborah Jones, in her review, cites 50 years, but 90 years was projected onto the stage curtain last night. Whatever, the program shows SDC to be in rude health. It consisted of three works: Bonacela's Cinco, Nankivell's Neon Aether and Lane's Woof. Lane's Woof is an unforgettable creation, for me the first two thirds of which brought the Elgin marbles strongly to mind. Not in terms of the shapes created by individual dancers, but by the way that groups of dancers defined the space around them: triangles, squares, rectangles. Much of the dancing in the last third was on demi-point and dancers gradually moved from the geometric shapes created by groups to pairings and single dancers, although the group as a whole remained on stage. Nankivell's Neon Aether, to a clanking, banging score that at times included the human voice, evokes our relationship with space, outer space. As with Woof, the group predominates, but a red-clad Ariella Casu strikes an individual and often lonely figure, especially as the piece closes with her dancing alone on a mist-shrouded stage. Bonacela's Cinco, featuring, not unexpectedly, five dancers to Alberto Ginastera's Second String Concerto, is a completely abstract work devoted to exploring the relationship between movement and music, and between the dancers and the shapes they make. Overall, a memorable evening, and one which promises a rich and fulfilling 50 (or 90!) years to come.

For those of you who have followed my news flashes about the drought, I spent last week in far western New South Wales. Flat, flat, flat. Yellow, yellow, yellow. Dry, dry, dry. Even the Old Man Salt Bushes are dying. What else can I say? Poor fellow, my country. But turning to The Australian Ballet's first offering of the year: Verve, a program of three short ballets all by TAB's resident choreographers. First up was Stephen Baynes' Constant Variants. Stephen Baynes has been resident choreographer with TAB since 1995, and Constant Variants was great. Reasonably conventional, but great. Music, setting, lighting and dance worked wonderfully together. Setting was dominated by a number of huge right angles, picture frame corners lit in golds, ambers and greys. The dancers themselves were meagerly lit, yellow light that left part of each dancer in darkness. Music -Tchaikovsky's Variations on a Rococo Theme, which set the stage for the variations in the dance. Main event of the evening was Alice Topp's Aurum. Alice Topp is TAB's most recently appointed choreographer (last year) and a Choryphee with the company. Aurum was extraordinary. The work is inspired by kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken ceramics with gold lacquer. Breakage thus becomes an acknowledged part of the history of the object. Aurum asks us to celebrate our imperfections and discover beauty in our brokeness. As Leonard Cohen says, "There's a crack, a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." The vocabulary of movement was far more ground-breaking than was the case in Stephen Baynes' work. Really exciting. Very simple stage dominated by a backdrop reminiscent of cracks in ceramic, cracks which are suddenly and unexpectedly illuminated in gold at the end of the first movement. Interesting work with shadows. At one point the dancers' huge shadows shrink as they approach the back of the stage. Then the dancers move in one direction while their shadows move off-stage. Sounds 'cheap thrills', but it works! Final work of the evening was Tim Harbour's Filigree and Shadow, and I have to confess that I did not warm to this work. Frantic music and movement. The governing metaphor was explained as that of birds in a cyclone. Apparently, such birds fly above the maelstrom below, and, while they may be blown hundreds of kilometers off course, they survive the experience. To my mind, that leaves them in the middle of the Pacific with no land in any direction for hundreds of kilometers. A wonderful and engrossing evening, but when I got home I found an email from TAB thanking me for attending and offering half-price tickets if I wanted to go again. Did I?! But no tutus and no nice ballerinas, so audiences must be down. Aaaaaggghh!

The drought is over. Well, the metaphoric ballet drought is over. The real drought still has much of western NSW in its grip. In fact, the parents of my nephew's partner (is there a word for that?), from Wagga in the west, were in Sydney a couple of weeks ago during a particularly heavy rainstorm. And they just sat on my sister's balcony, watching and listening to the rain. Nearly broke my heart. But the ballet drought ... nothing from December to March, is over. And given the heaviness and sadness of the last 10 days, it's a real relief. Thank god it was Liam Scarlett's Dangerous Liaisons. If it were his Swan Lake, I don’t think I could have taken Seigfried holding the lifeless body of Odette. But it wasn't Swan Lake. It was Dangerous Liaisons. Dangerous Liaisons is the first work that Scarlett has created on the Queensland Ballet: and this only 6 years since Li Cunxin took over an insignificant little provincial company. My admiration for Li Cunxin is boundless! As Michelle Potter, an influential critic, stated, QB is a national treasure. Anyway, as I'm sure you know, Dangerous Liaisons is about Sex. And sex. And sex. The audience gets a foretaste of what's to come when the curtain rises on the funeral of the husband of Madam de Merteuil, the female protagonist. The guests leave and Madam de Merteuil has it off with the Compte de Gercourt, her lover, right there on the coffin. The first night audience gasped and laughed ... nervous laughter if ever I've heard it. The audience the following night was rather more blase, but it was a shock. Things went on from there. First night I gave up trying to follow who was doing what to whom, but second viewing gave me more of a handle on the plot. The dancing was extraordinary as Valmont (Alexander Idaszak) tossed and threw Merteuil (Laura Hidalgo) around in what can only be described as desperate, vicious sex. The contrast with the calm, restrained PDD as Cecile (Yanela Pinera) and Danceny (Rian Thompson) fall in love was striking. Apart from the dancers, however, mention must be made of Tracy Grant Lord's costumes. The nobility dressed in sumptuous costumes which became a vital aspect of the dance as they billowed, flashing vividly coloured underwear, before being ruthlessly crushed. The young and innocent dressed in whites, creams and pastels, gentle creations that served to underline the fluidity and purity of line of their dance. As Madam de Merteuil, Laura Hidalgo was mesmerising; imperious, utterly immoral and utterly sure of her right to command. Every gesture, every step expressed her complete and vicious self-absorption. Music is by Saint-Saens, and Martin Yates, the arranger, characterises what he did as plunder Saint-Saens' work. Each character is associated with a musical theme (something which really helps distinguish who's who) but these are woven into a rich orchestral score which sounds as if it were created ab initio for the work. Overall, Liam Scarlett has created a lasting and extraordinary work, richly textured, a work which tells a complex and difficult story succinctly and clearly, if you take the time to absorb the many strands that make up the tale.

And from Australia: Two Firebirds: First Graeme Murphy's production, with stand-out performances by Lana Jones and Brett Chynoweth for TAB, and second Queensland Ballet's performance of Liam Scarlett's Firebird. Laura Hidalgo was mesmerising as the firebird, and Rian Thompson almost equally so as Koschei. Mia Heathcote and Joel Woellner also memorable. Looking back, I think the real difference between the two versions was QB's focus on layering character, while TAB focused on story- telling. Whatever, both performances were wonderful. Then QB's A Midsummer Night's Dream (Liam Scarlett). Delightful. Victor Estevez dominated the stage as Oberon, while Laura Hidalgo gave a gentle and endearing performance as Titania. Kohei Iwamoto's Puck was great! Mark Morris's Leila and Majnun was also great, but if I have to single anyone out it would be Alim Qasimov (and his daughter, Fergana). I've listened to them with delight for years and they were equally good this time round. A superbly integrated performance of musicians, dancers and set designers. Thank you! And last but certainly not least, Alex Campbell in Ratmansky's Cinderella. And Leanne Stogmenov as Cinderella. Unforgettable. And finally (counting the two Firebirds as one - cheating, I know) I can't leave out Hallberg's masterly Albrecht, with Leanne Stogmenov as Giselle (she retired, her last performance being Cinderella to Alex Campbell's Prince. A real loss, but good luck with whatever comes next, Leanne). It's been a great year, and next year looks wonderful as well. If I may beg the indulgence of Forum members, they may remember that several months ago the Bolshoi announced that it would be appearing in Brisbane, at which news I said, "Be still my beating heart". Within a remarkable short period of time the announcement had disappeared from the Bolshoi's website, leaving me to speculate that either the news was false (oh woe), or that the Centre for Performing Arts (QPAC) had 'requested' its removal ( please let this be so). Anyway, on Christmas Eve (!) an email appeared from QPAC saying to expect BIG (their capitals) news in the new year. So it rather looks as if it's on. Be still my beating heart. Role on June. And happy Christmas and a peaceful and prosperous New Year to all forum members.

I was thinking of starting my comments with 'Ratmansky rules OK', but after last night's performance it should be 'Alex Campbell rules OK', or maybe 'Campbell and Ratmansky rule OK', with Campbell in first position (sorry, Ratmansky!). But first things first. As Cinderella, Leanne Stojmenov gives a stand-out performance. Her Cinderella is resiliant, at times bowed down with loneliness and grief, but always able to pull herself together, laugh at herself, and get on with things. Her evident delight when she finds herself transformed, beautiful in a stunning off white frock, is something to behold. Against her are the ugly sisters, Skinny (Ingrid Gow) and Dumpy (Jill Ogai). Danced by women (thank heavens) and without a trace of slapstick. They are, of course, terrible; gargoyles, a good friend suggested, but not evil. When you see the mother (Dana Stephenson), a spitting ball of angles and high kicks one minute, embraces the next, you understand. The ugly sisters desperately want love and attention, their mother desperately wants to get them happily established, but their every action is off-key and grotesque. The Fairy Godmother (Gillian Revie) is a drab figure in grey, with a long nose and a bowler hat, but she casts stars and calls up planets to transform Cinderella. Which brings me to Alex Campbell as the Prince. Stunning. When he makes his entrance to the ball at the beginning of act 2, he is plainly a bored and spoiled adolescent, going through the motions of greeting his guests. Then he sees Cinderella. Interest gives way to love and love to desperation as Cinderella disappears at midnight. All this is conveyed though a glorious pdd, glorious both technically and in the arc traced by the Prince's changing emotions. If Act 2 starts the process by which the Prince grows up, Act 3 completes it, as he travels the world, resisting temptation from both men and women before finally finding his love, celebrated in a final tender pdd. Overall, there is a contrast between the misdirected love represented by the ugly sisters and their mother, and the real thing as presented by Cinderella and her Prince. This contrast is underlined by masterly set design. Dali's pouting scarlett mouth of a sofa reflects the neediness of the ugly sisters and their mother. Schiaparelli's shoe hats underline the misplaced nature of their actions. The Prince's adolescent disrespect for the ladies of his court is nicely illustrated by the stool he has them sit on to try on the slipper, a stool the legs of which are womens' legs. In high heels. Bluebird has described other aspects of the set above, so I won't discuss them again. A second theme relates to appearance. The Fairy Godmother is a drab figure but she makes dreams come true. Cinderella dresses in rags, but she is sympathetic and loving, a Princess in waiting. When her Prince finally finds her, her rags are whisked off and she is once again in her ball dress, a nice suggestion that everyone is beautiful when seen through the eyes of love. The choreography is wonderful, and neatly picks up the dark sub-text that runs throughout Prokofiev's score. Great dancing, especially by Campbell and Stojmenov, but by no means only by them. A trully memorable evening.

Sophoife said that she was opening this thread in the hope that I, amoung others, would write a review before she saw TAB's Cinderella next week. Really sorry, Sophoife, but I thought I'd write after I've seen Alex Campbel, so that I can hopefully effuse about at least one dancer that many BCoF will have seen or be able to see. Having said that, I have also to say that Cinderella is terrific. The dancers are fantastic, the choreography wonderful, the music music engrossing and the set design amazing. More next week.

Well, it's been quite a year .... Firebird, two of them, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Leila and Majnun, Spartacus. Good thing there's no mandated maximum to the number of highlights you can have, because I don’t know what I'd drop from the list. And there's still TAB's Cinderella to come. But right now there's Teatro alla Scala's Giselle and Don Quixote in Brisbane. First, Giselle. With David Hallberg. Which I didn't know when I purchased the ticket. And Nicoletta Manni. There has been criticism, elsewhere in this forum, of David Hallberg's performance. With respect, I largely disagree. It is true that his performance, particularly in Act 2, lacked fireworks. Great partnering, but no fireworks. But his presentation of the character of Albrecht was wonderful. At the beginning an arrogant aristocrat bent only on seduction, he became more and more enamoured, his gaze seeking out Giselle, and softening, even when she was on the opposite side of the stage. When confronted with the Duke, he froze; then Bathilde appears and the horror of the situation breaks over him. Only with difficulty is he able to pull himself together and greet her. Then Giselle intervenes and the rest is history. It occurs to me that Giselle could be seen as a study in the consequences of ignoring the law of cause and effect. Giselle falls for a completely unknown young man, someone with no ties to the village. I am sure that her over-protective mother must have warned her about the dangers of unknown and unattached young men. (Yes, I know that with Giselle herself, I'm drawing rather a long bow, but hopefully less so with Hilarion and Albrecht.) Giselle has clearly indicated to Hillarion that she does not love him, but he clearly believes that he only has to get rid of Albrecht and he will be home and hosed. Giselle's own wishes don't seem to register in his mind at all. He appears sublimely unaware of the possible effect on Giselle herself of exposing Albrecht's deceit. As for Albrecht, well, he has clearly no concern about the effects of his seduction (what else are attractive peasant girls there for?), until he falls in love, ending up in far deeper water than he had previously experienced. He is consequently shocked to the core when Bathilde (Emanuela Montanari) appears, and watches Giselle's disintegration with impotent horror, aware of his responsibility, but unable to intervene in events. This sets up Act 2, where Giselle intervenes discisively, rather nicely. Whatever, in Act 2, Nicoletta Manni is a feather-light Giselle, flying across the stage, rarely touching the ground. In Act 1 she had been a quiet, even shy girl, coming to life as she fell more and more under Albrecht's spell. Now she is loving, mourning, pleading for his life. The fireworks are provided by Christian Fagetti. His Hillarion is a far more sympathetic character than is usually the case, and his terror, his desperation, his pleading results in a brief but spectacular burst of dance before he is hustled off the stage and out of this life with unusual rapidity. Overall, this Giselle was very different from the TAB presentation I saw in August, a presentation also featuring Hallberg. Don Quixote was a very different kettle of fish. This was an exuberant, colourful ballet, and Nicoletta Manni a vibrant, cheeky Kitri, one who knew her own worth and was not about to settle for second best (BTW, Nicoletta Manni danced Giselle on Friday night, Kitri on Saturday and Giselle on Sunday. How she did it, I don't know, but thank you, Nicoletta; you were great. 😊) Basilio was danced by Leonid Sarafanov of Moscow's Mikhalovski Theatre, and I didn't know that he would be dancing either. Anyway, he provided fireworks aplenty, as well as being a worthy foil for Kitri. His dancing was technically assured and the chemistry between him and Manni convincing. Special mention needs to be given to Giuseppe Conte's Don Quixote, a characterisation second only to that of Robert Helpman in Nureyev's 1972 film with Lucette Aldos and TAB, and anyone who has read my previous posts on DQ will know that I have no higher praise. His DQ was elderly and deluded but eternally dignified. Great costumes and wonderful sets, especially the wonderful woodland setting of Act 3. Overall, two memorable performances and a great trip to Brisbane.

Wow! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to incite a firestorm. I thought I was writing an utterly uncontroversial analysis of 19th century attitudes to 'the east' as seen in LB. There is a great deal of scholarly work on the 19th century Orientalist attitudes that underpinned colonialism, especially with regard to art and literature. (If you're interested, Wikipedia's entry on Edward Said's Orientalism gives a useful introduction.) And I wasn't trying to imply that LB reflects or reflected reality. Of course it doesn't. But it does reflect attitudes, and that is why I characterise it as dangerous. Specifically, 'the east' (primarily the Arab world, south Asia and east Asia) was portrayed as sexualised, exotic, and violent, and I think you can see this in LB. That doesn't mean that LB should not or cannot be watched, but I would argue that we need to be aware of the attitudes it reflects. That's what I meant by unexamined assumptions. I also did not mean to imply that Europeans did not smoke opium, though I admit that poor expression meant that that is what I did imply. Nor does my analysis take away from the very real suffering of individuals, as for example, Solor. But I am really sorry that so many forum members were annoyed by what I said.

Totally agree that LB is a European fantasy, as is Le Corsaire. But dangerous fantasies, it could be argued. As for meditation positions, well, we'll just have to disagree 😊

Well, I won't get to see this production .... it’s a little far away for an easy commute, so this is just a general spray about Orientalism, with particular reference to LB. And my general reference is RB's DVD with Roja, Costa and Nunez. In general, Orientaliasm means that the orient is all about sexuality and exoticism: LB all over. However, let's start with the temple and its 'monks'. Temple dancers are restricted to Hindu temples, so no 'monks', and especially no monks wearing something vaguely reminiscent of Buddist robes. And the dancers would not be flaunting their naked middles - that's a European fantasy. The unrestrained sexuality of the east. In fact, temple dancers were respected members of society until the British came along, impoverished their aristocratic supporters and classified temple dancers as prostitutes. LB dancers establish themselves as 'foreign' with their clothes and their hand gestures ... bent at the wrist so the hand is parallel to the floor. Where in the world does this come from? Certainly not from observations of any Indian dance form. And then there is the intrusion of 'African' dancers, especially in the POB and Bolshoi versions of the story, not to mention piccanninis, elephants and god knows what. The exotic ousing from every pour. But unbridaled sexuality leads to unbridaled jelousy ... I'm looking at you, Gamzetti. And desire for revenge. And snakes in baskets (all too reminiscent of Cleopatra, that other dangerous and exotic female) are definitely an exotic and un-European way of disposing of a rival. Then we have the beautiful shades scene. But what is going on? A lovely opium dream. But Europeans don't smoke opium. Perish the thought. Only lascivious Easterners do so. Think of the opium dreams in ballet. Are any if them dreampt by good, upstanding Europeans? No they are not. At least as far as I know. And so we go on to the idol's dance. Bronze or gold, it doesn't matter, but the use of 'idol' is significant. And can I ask for once, just for once, that when the 'idol' finally sits down, after a dance that says a good deal about the needs of western male dancers, but nothing at all about the reality of male Indian dancing, that he actually sit with his crossed legs parallel to the floor, rather than his knees up around his ears. Anyone actually sitting in this position for meditation would be in agony in 10 minutes flat. I am sorry to go on at such length, particularly as, when I can bring myself to ignore the ideology, and just focus on the ballet, I like it. Nor do I expect historical accuracy in ballet. But so many, particularly 19th century ballets are awash with orientalism (think Le Corsaire and Raymonda, not to mention the early 20th century Sheherazade) that this needs to be born in mind, just as Macmillan's Judas Tree is attracting more and more negative criticism. I suppose the repertoire of classical ballets is small, so we will be seeing LB for a long time to come, but it is imporrant to be aware of the insidious infliuence of largely unexamined assumptions.