Set in a landscaped gem of towering snow sprinkled mountains, inviting bush and beach walks and a glistening lake is the un-spoilt visitor’s attraction of Lake Wanaka. This year’s Wanaka Festival of Colour opened with the stunning work of NZ choreographer, Loughlan Prior, exploring the complex, triumphant-yet-tragic life of the nation’s most celebrated writer, Katherine Mansfield. At once profoundly cerebral, unflinchingly erotic, exquisitely artistic and brutally dramatic, this Royal New Zealand ballet left me stunned by its emotional depth, by its precisely eloquent voice-over excerpts of her thoughts and by the magnitude of the work’s psychological exploration. Equally off-kilter, by the deeply moving effects of compelling Art, were the attendees I interviewed afterwards. A few were speechless! 

Opening with white fog exactly as her famous short story, At The Bay begins, dancers emerge strewing her environment with white pages of her writing. Grounding her beginning in New Zealand in the early 1900s, the voice-over excerpts of her writing recall rata, mulberry, Tarawera, soaking in velvety mineral baths, cake and tea; while the sound effects of church bells, tuis and 1908s music keep our eyes occupied with the writing desk that represents her permanent passion. The happy dancing of her early years, present the well-to-do banker’s daughter imbued with a lust for Life and possessed of few societal boundaries.

Finding love with a Maori school friend, Maata Mahupuku demands of Kirby Selchow’s Katherine, and Mayu Tanigaito’s Maata, a pivotal portrayal of Katherine’s fiery desire and passionate involvement with a woman, in the face of social disapproval on racial and sexual grounds. Their intense pas de deux, full of yearning, sincerity, delightful intertwining, sensual embraces, unwavering focus on each other’s face; their tender kiss and her searing pain of parting prefigure Katherine’s life as a bold sexual adventurer who is married beyond all else to her writing. Underscoring the scene are tempestuous sound effects of crashing waves, thunder, the Maori wind-twirled instrument and the violin’s plaintive melody, reminiscent of Holocaust music. Katherine’s unchanging red dress marks her as society’s ‘scarlet woman’ while referencing her famous portrait in a red dress against a background of colourful flowers. The voice-over commentary steers the mind to her view, “I want to live- to expand- to rejoice- to give and to be asked for Love.” New Zealand cannot contain her.

Off to London, Katherine experiences a “to hell with the rules” Bohemian world. Loughlan Prior’s gay scene in a men’s club is a tour de force, giving rein to his exuberant wit; the boozy singing, playful eroticism and high-spirited dancing open Katherine’s eyes to Life’s unbridled possibilities. Her writing becomes frenzied as she dances with, over and around her writing desk. Writing henceforth contends for dominance with the distractions of living. Her mother’s visit and rejection of Katherine’s London life lead to her being cut out of Mum’s will, and having less financial help from her father; resulting in a life of penury. Ironically, that demands that she writes prodigiously to earn a living. She does! Connection to the publishing world throws Katherine into the giddy arms of many lovers; the worldly, accepting Bloomsbury set, supportive Virginia Woolf, her decade-long brilliant but penurious partner John Middleton Murray, and the Polish translator who would ruin her health by passing on to her an “intimate infection”. The buoyant lifts, energetic ensemble formations, men’s frenetic tempo, maintain a sparkling mood through the era of the flappers and ragtime jive music. Air raid sirens, rushing crowds and ’14 -’18 costumes signal the First World War. What a presentation of economy and choreographic precision!  

 The postwar mood changes with the death of Katherine’s brother, a soldier. The dances become more measured, darker in emotional expression. Katherine’s twenty-something house- moves to France, Switzerland, Germany, Belgium and around England, are danced hearing the unrelenting sound of the typewriter, the music of cello (which she had learned to play), piano and the violin. Her public recognition from various publications is muted. Her invitation to participate in a menage a trois is stylishly, briefly acted.  Kirby Selchow’s embodiment of this contrasted present author, exhibits her vulnerable, impoverished, diseased, and now tubercular self to a ‘T’. Self- possessed, unsentimental, unwavering in her determination to write brilliantly to the end, Katherine endures debilitating medical procedures and faces down her imminent death resignedly? Or, defiantly?

“Never look back! No regrets.” Her mantra. Two attendees quote those words to me. They are the thoughts they will take away. The voice-over statements of her philosophy proved essential because there were no printed programmes to remind viewers (all ticket holders received their programmes by email). Her words inform scenes danced. That final scene, a dance with only the female corps dressed in white, marked by geometrical arms, strictly dictated by the phrases of music, brought tears to my eyes. The scarlet woman, Katherine in her Spanish shawl, defying the sound of labored breathing, has lived many imagined selves, with passion and fire. She has created innumerable characters, has honoured her desire to feel, to act, to be all of which she is capable, to affirm that life is marvelous. 

The costumes, particularly those of the men, define the eras delightfully and the aural range, of musical selections and sound effects, is superlative. Given the limited size of the stage the lighting director’s spotlighting specific areas projected the illusion of spaciousness very well. The black background almost imposes a brooding seriousness from the first moment. Prior’s use of white fog, white sheets of writing paper strewn by white costumed dancers, to begin and to end the ballet, foiled that potential morbidity. The voice-over speaker’s elocution was polished; mind you, Katherine’s husband taught elocution. A pity we could not give the Company the many curtain calls they deserved. They had to husband their energy for a second performance only 75 minutes later. However, given an opportunity to interview Kirby Selchow whose emotional maturity (for such a young dancer) was impressive I needed only one question. 
“How did you prepare for the performance?”
“I visited her Historic Home and read her love letters.” Kirby replied. Check mate! 

A relatively short work of 45 minutes, this ballet would lose nothing from development into a slightly longer work.  Bravo RNZB! Bravo RNZB Foundation! A bouquet to you…Wanaka Festival of Colour! What’s next Loughlan Prior?

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