Sweeping across the gum tree-lined Tanderrum Bridge to arrive at a Margaret Court Arena circled by harp and double bass-playing musicians in high heels, there was magic in the air. That electric thrill permeated through the wall and crackled around the Australian Ballet dancers limbering up for their first ever stadium performance, Summertime at the Ballet. Stretched out on a sleek grey surface traced with white lines, it looked for all the world like they were ready to play tennis on a clay court, were it not for the diaphanous white lace circling the arms of the female contingent of the corp, connecting to sparkling tiaras.
The welcome to country spoke of millennia of dance on the land of the Kulin Nation. It was followed by an excited announcement of a new era for the company after a trying year, as led by freshly installed artistic director David Hallberg. A ripple of excitement courtside was palpable, with Summertime at the Ballet about to give the crowd exactly what they wanted and more. “My overarching goal is to bring in repertoire that audiences maybe haven’t experienced,” Hallberg told Time Out of his grand plans. “To commission artists in their creative flow, around the world and in Australia.”
When the lights went out, Orchestra Victoria struck up, as led by conductor and artistic director Nicolette Fraillon, cutting a dashing figure in a long dark coat lined with bright red. An excerpt from Sylvia gave way to ‘The Kingdom of Shades’ from Marius Petipa’s 19th-century fantasia La Bayadère. The very image of tradition, 24 dancers in white tutus swept the stage in one of the form’s signature movements, leading into pas de deux marking a ghostly lament for a fallen lover. The haunting melancholy held the collective breath of the audience.
As rapturous applause dimmed, the apparition was banished by sudden darkness pierced, at first, by only a stark square outline of white light tracing the edge of the court. Then a moon-like circular beam appeared, ensnared within the square. It’s into this Orwellian trap that Jill Ogai, Christopher Rogers-Wilson and George Murray-Nightingale leap. The trio, wearing dark tights and denim-coloured sleeveless tops, dance at the other end of the ballet spectrum, where it crosses into contemporary dance. Filigree and Shadow, choreographed by Tim Harbour for the company’s 20:21 triple bill in 2015, is a spine-tingling counterpoint to La Bayadère and shows off what’s possible for these powerful performers as the triumvirate work spectacular lifts. The orchestra affected discordant notes for this piece, underlined by a kinetic, electric beat matching the dancer’s sparring swagger. Exhilarating, it was inspired by the frantic pace of drummer Keith Moon, of famed British rockers The Who and captures the sweet spot between chaos and control. It’s gone too soon, giving way once more to tradition in Amber Scott and Adam Bull paired on choreographer Stephen Baynes' Molto Vivace. They dance amidst feather-like projected lights tracing their steps.
The muscular heft of Lucas Jervies’ Spartacus is a rousing highlight of Act 1. We were thrown into a circle of training gladiators overseen by a robed slaver bearing a cane to beat those who stray. Jervies worked alongside fight choreographer Nigel Poulton to merge dance and battle tactics, and there’s a hint of Muhammad Ali’s great strength and limber footwork iin the tussle of these Thracian prisoners subjugated by Rome. Composer Aram Khatchurian’s punchy music gives way to spritely lullaby as Spartacus dreams of his wife Flavia.
There’s so much to adore in this two-act evening that pirouettes between what is long known and the shock of the new, sparking adulation from a wilder than usual crowd. There are lithe, contemporary movements like choreographer and costumer Alice Topes ‘Clay’, an excerpt from her contemporary one-act work Logos, amongst the Australian Ballet’s final performances before the Great Lockdown. And there’s the frolicsome joy of a waltz from The Merry Widow, with the men donning fabulous brocade-adorned military jackets designed by Desmond Heeley.
With the full company en pointe, it’s Chengwu Guo and Ako Kondo who steal the show. Their pas de deux work managed to convey the supple grace of the form without the rigidity. Sharing remarkable chemistry, they’re alive with mischief and mirth, prompting joyous laughter and wild applause whenever they appeared. Scanning the half-circle crowd, there were many youthful faces minus suited and pearled parents. It’s easy to believe, amid the joyous overtures of the Victorian Opera and the chameleon-like movements of the Australian Ballet, that Hallberg can usher in a new era that will build on the best while inviting new ideas. Perhaps this Summertime at the Ballet will never end?
