The Royal New Zealand Ballet’s brief winter season of three contemporary ballets, brought together under the collective title, Solace, comes to an end with three performances in Christchurch’s Theatre Royal following longer runs in Wellington and Auckland.  This was an eagerly anticipated programme that includes the first New Zealand performances of a work by British choreographer, Wayne McGregor and new works by New Zealander, Sarah Foster-Sproull, and Alice Topp, an Australian choreographer who previously danced with the RNZB.

The programme opens with McGregor’s Infra, first staged for Britain’s Royal Ballet in 2008, near the beginning of his tenure as that company’s principal choreographer.  Developed in collaboration with the visual artist, Julian Opie, and with music by Max Richter, Infra exhibits many of the hallmarks of McGregor’s approach to dance, including his interest in digital projections that provide a parallel stream of movement to that performed by the dancers. Infra opens with a darkend stage on which a solitary man moves nervously, his semiphoric gestures directed towards an unseen observer.  He is soon joined by another man but there is little connection between the two and throughout the work, as the number of dancers increases, the isolation of individuals or couples from the larger group is maintained.  The live action takes place beneath what seems like a window into another realm, across which outlines of life-size figures walk back and forth, their pace deliberate, like a stream of commuters intent on reaching some unknown destination always out of sight.  Is this the world of everyday reality, beneath which the often desperate emotional lives of these faceless characters is played out through the actions of the real dancers on the stage? The work progresses in episodic fashion through a series of duets until all six couples perform simultaneously ranged across the stage in bands of light, seperated by strips of darkness, almost as if they were performing on a giant keyboard with its white and black notes.  At this point the problems of staging a work developed for the much larger stage of the Royal Opera House becomes apparent, as the smaller stage of the Theatre Royal creates a rather cramped effect and the sense of acute separation between the pairs of dancers is less apparent. A lone woman is approached by a couple and the woman whispers something in the isolated figure’s ear, its impact eventually leaving her distraught.   As if the digital figures have suddenly assumed human form, the stage fills with a crowd of individuals who neither interact with one another or respond to the plight of the sobbing woman. To have ended the work at this point would have been bleak indeed, but a final duet suggests that human connection is still possible, offering the potential for the ‘solace’ promised by the programme’s collective title.  The overall bleakness of the work is emphasised by Richter’s music, which begins with white noise into which snippets of words and the the electronic bleeps of morse code are injected, emphasising the continuus attempts at communication that swirl around us without ever fully connecting.  Even when Richter introduces strings and piano to his characteristic minimalist idiom, the repeated descending motifs emphasise the mood of alienation that pervades the work.  Although McGregor’s prediliction for hyper-extensions and movements at the edge of the humanly possible are evident throughout Infra the RNZB’s dancers are undaunted by this unfamiliar idiom, rising to meet the sometimes extreme challenges of the choreography.

After the first interval Sarah Foster-Sproull’s To Hold presents a complete contrast, a pulsating ensemble piece that fills the stage with dancers in often thrilling combinations.  If Infra was all about separation, Foster-Sproull celebrates connection, a feature that is highlighted in the way hands are used as a visual thread throughout the work.  To Hold has its origins in an earlier work, Forgotten Things, staged for the contemporary programme of the New Zealand School of Dance in 2015 and revived for the School’s 50th anniversary graduation performance in 2017. Much expanded and developed with the input of the professional dancers of the RNZB, To Hold pulses with the vigour and energy of Pacific dance traditions, while Donna Jeffris’s  shimmering blue costumes, with short skirts for both men and women, also adds to the work’s Pacific flavour.  The precision of movement that is necessary to realise the visual effects that Foster-Sproul is seeking is a testament to the total commitment of the ensemble who move as one.  The co-ordinated movement of the traditional diagonal line of corps de ballet dancers is reinvented to form an undulating wave of both men and women, while limbs held parallel to the stage create a framing device for the central action. It is, however, the motif of massed hands, held both open and closed, that is the defining motif of the work, rising upwards like an exhalation of breath from the mouth of the central, prone figure in a dramatic, closing tableau. The work is accompanied by a pulsating score by Foster-Sproull’s regular collaborator, Eden Mulholland, with Helen Mountfort’s closely recorded cello lines at its throbbing heart.  The work suggests many permutations of the concept ‘to hold’ including, by its end, ‘one’s breath’.

The mood changes again for the final work, Alice Topp’s High Tide.  Although her programme note refers to the multiple existential crises that humanity currently faces the work itself has a much more optimistic quality, taking its cue from Helen Keller’s observation printed in the programme, ‘Keep your face to the shunshine and you cannot see a shadow’.  Like Infra, High Tide also includes multiple duets but it also opens with a solo, a man dancing with his shadow projected onto a moon-like orb above the stage.  As the work progresses this orb is transformed into a reflective surface onto which the on-stage action is projected through a fish-eye lens.  The orb descends to be embraced by the dancers, as if they are holding a precious object in their hands, and then it is released back into the firmament.  The effect is rather like the image of the earth contained within a bubble that adorns the outer panels of the painter, Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights, and it forms a perfect metaphor for the fragility of the earth which,  in High Tide, is literally held in the dancers’ hands.  In spite of the seriouslness of the works underlying themes, it has a pervading warmth that engenders hope. Serendipitously, it also ends with a duet, mirroring the conclusion of Infra.

In juxtaposing an established work by a much-lauded international choreographer, with two new works by Australasian dance makers, the programme inevitably raises the question, whether intended or not, of how the local works stack up alongside that of Britain’s most recent choreographic knight.  Neither overawed nor outshone, Foster-Sproull and Topp rise triumphantly to the challenge.  Against the carefully callibrated intellectualism of McGregor they bring freshness, energy and light, a potent mix of qualities that reflects their experience of a different hemisphere.  While it is undoubtedly healthy for the RNZB’s dancers to measure themselves against the best choreography from the rest of the world, Solace should engender confidence in the dance that is being produced here, right now.

Wayne McGregor has spoken, with regard to Infra, of the challenges of creating a work on a large company with an extensive repertoire and a continuous schedule of performances.  The fact that dancers might be available for only a couple of hours in discontinuous sessions, meant that his choreography was developed as a series of fragments that were then assembled, rather like a jig-saw puzzle.  This process helps to explain the episodic nature of the work and the need for the unifying digital motif.  McGregor’s observation also highlights the comparative luxury the RNZB enjoys, of being able to develop a programme without the ongoing distraction of daily performances.  Indeed, it is hard to imagine how a work as complex and integrated as To Hold could be realised in any other way

In a programme that depends on every dancer giving their all it is perhaps invidious to single out individuals but in Infra Damani Campbell Williams’s comanding presence and Mayu Tanigaito’s emotional intensity stand out. As the central figure in To Hold, Jemima Scott is the steady focal point around whom the entire work revolves.  In High Tide Rose Xu radiates sweetness in her duet with Laurynas Veyalis; Ana Gallardo Lobaina and Branden Reiners are memorable in a knotty duet while Kirby Selchow and Joshua Guillemot-Rodgerson exude a sense of joyous playfulness.  Levi Teachout, whose dance with his shadow opens the work, brings it to a gentle close in a lyrical duet with Mayu Tanigaito.

A large audience greeted each work with generous, enthusiastic applause, and with stamping feet and cries of delight at the final curtain.  Triple bills can be difficult to sell but Solace is a well-judged mix of complimentary works that allows both company and choreographers to shine.  Mark the dates for the RNZB’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your calendar now. 

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Sir Wayne McGregor, CBE is an English born choreographer with the gift that speaks to worlds beyond the now, to a future or, in this dance work opening Royal New Zealand Ballet’s Auckland Solace: Dance to feed your soul season, the first to pose critical aesthetic questions in a time fraught by division. 

Created for London’s Royal Ballet in 2008, Infra, which is a word derived of the Latin for below, gives rise to the possibility of what on earth is up? What gives rise to interpretation. 

What does a dance mean nearly twenty years from when it was born and since danced through several companies around the world: danced across the shape scapes of so many dancers. Their bodies born and all bathed in classical dancing. Infra is reminiscent of the mathematics of William Forsythe (or even George Balanchine, I wondered), and of the same era. The dance is redolent of embodied history. The costume design by Moritz Junge, is monochromatic other than soft fleshy tints on the dancers’ legs, arms, necks, and faces. 

Max Richter’s lamenting sound harnesses a sonic sweep of minimalist intention, and the timelessness of dancers subtle expressions of human endeavour. We see 12 dancers swapping out partners, each swift interaction playing out the surety of dancers in human projection, yet frequently settling into the underbelly of human nature. Legs and difficult lifts site the bodies in question as robotic, anime almost and emotionless mostly. Yet somehow, with a hand in the small of her back – at chest height and repeated in time, we see love as-well, softening. The last duet becomes an abundance of seamless kinetic energy. 

Sarah Foster-Sproull shines in this evening’s triptych of consolation. To Hold evolves from her distinct style, marked by intricate hand gestures that serve as the scaffold. The choreography’s structure and intense crescendos evoke a sense of ancient traditions and diverse cultures from around the world. Eden Mulholland (Ngāti Porou) contributes his characteristic brilliance, complementing the dancers’ dynamic movements with a sense of pause and contemporary rapture. To Hold also pays homage to ritualistic folk dances. The costumes, with their blue hues and skirts that sometimes hang awkwardly or twirl like dervishes, evoke the ritualism of Indian  and Turkish cultures. Golden hand gestures weave together visual imagery, creating delicate connections between human emotion and an emerging mythology.

As the concluding work in the evening’s collaboration, High Tide comes across as an awkward narrative companion. Choreographed by Australian Alice Topp, this work raises the difficult question about dancerly mechanics displacing expression. Ólafur Arnalds musical splendour is paired with a gorgeous moon on the backdrop, begging for relationship but hung too high to situate the dancer’s shadow as central. The moon shifts from black to a transparent balloon, reflecting the dancers, like the voyeuristic camera on a computer screen seeing what may not be seen. High Tide navigates abstraction and seems to ask what more can be done with the female body beyond being tossed and pulled by her legs. A set of duets, a soloist lost in a dream – yet it is the set, the moon, the balloon, and the choreography, rather than the dancers themselves, that provoke the recurring question: what fuels interpretation? 

Congratulations as always go to a stunning group of gorgeous dancers. 

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An evening at the ballet really has its own theatrical wonder and this evening does not disappoint. The muted colors of the meticulously painted Edwardian theatre, its rich ornateness is wonderful to gaze at as the full, opening night house settles and waits in anticipation on this wintry evening. 

The program this evening is Solace – dance to feed your soul, and it begins with Infra, choreographed by Sir Wayne McGregor, originally commissioned for the Royal Ballet London. 

Infra looks at life below the city, the people, their relationships. Julian Opie’s screen cleverly displays through simple alternating lights linked with a continuous computer animation of stereotypical people, walking, walking, walking above the city at street level, while the dancers move below them. 

As they move through the space, the opening trio has a sense of silent articulation and repetitive checking action to see if they are real.

A stunning duo performed by Branden Reiners and Kate Kadow is controlled and undulating. Following this the company dancers enter and exit walking, emulating the graphics above them. Delightfully strong and deliberate partnering is seen in the flirtatious, more casual and light-hearted duo that follows, the dancers’ linear placements are efficient and focused. 

The monochromatic costumes by Moritz Junge superbly complement the dancers form and shapes. 

It’s busy and at times surreal choreography with the movement light, almost weightless, revealing dynamic conversations with each other through sudden changes in qualities. 

Again, normal people going about their day-to-day activities, sometimes bringing melancholy moodiness which is enhanced by Max Richter’s music. The music brings about a sense of peace, then loss and loneliness, all perfectly complemented through the choreography. 

A mass pedestrian amble crosses the space, again replicating the graphics above. It transfixes us, and the sheer volume of bodies in the space traversing the stage going about their daily lives is affirming.

The dancers are refined and polished, technically brilliant shaping the forms and choreographic intricacies, interpreting this work exquisitely.  The fragile, physical intimacy and the delicacies of partnership and relationships within the twelve dancers often in duo form, is a credit to them; a beautiful work.

To Hold choreographed by Sarah Foster-Sproull
Music: Eden Mulholland
Costumes: Donna Jefferis
Light and Set: Jon Buswell

A quick paced gestural opening captures our interest immediately, Eden Mulhollands music is a driving, dominant force throughout the work and captivates us too.

Jon Buswell’s black, ceiling to floor fringing surrounds three sides of the stage and rods of light rise up and down at the sides. Buswell’s striking set adds texture and embellishes the seamless flow of entrances and exits with panache and curiosity.

Before too long Foster-Sproull’s signature stacking and layering of hands and limbs is shared, in this case fists upon fists overlay one another from the floor upwards resembling a human spine; stunning! The lighting is spot on here, adding texture and depth to the shape and the gold painted stacked hands.  

Stacking fist on fist forms a winged creature, then the placement morphs to a deers’ antlers, then, later sunflowers encompassing faces. The shapes hold one another, sharing in the distribution of each other’s placement and the contours of the arrangement. 

Fluid overlapping ensemble work is seen with quick paced entrances and exits along with many combinations of groupings and energies at one time. The full company present on stage is powerful and inspiring as they dance with precision and verve.

Repetition and canon (choreographic devices) are used frequently and are most welcome in building and shaping tension, focusing our eye to the comings and goings of the dancers in the space.

Again, Mulholland’s music is exceptional with narrative sections and unique abstractions. It lifts, guides and directs the piece from the inside; the connection between two is palpable. 

Partnering and lifts are tricky yet fluid and keep us transfixed on the skill and control the dancers have. Kirby Selchow’s feisty duo with Luke Cooper is a highlight, with Selchow’s facial expressions showing the warm qualities of being held and supported.

There is a rich and beautiful trio near the end demonstrating the interconnectedness of being held gently, over, under, through and around the dancers’ move.  The ending is strong, lifted by Buswell’s fabulous lighting design that compliments and highlights the intensity, stamina and strength of this ensemble work.
The layered hug, upstage centre, leaves us with a sense of comfort in the final layered collection of bodies and shapes. 

Accolades to the costuming by Donna Jefferis. A beautiful combination of blue luminescent fabric adeptly crafted into skirts and abstracted tops and trousers that caught the light and moved as one with the dancers. 
A tiny thought when the work returns to the studio, maybe to refine the last quarter of the piece and make the ending come just a little sooner. 

Foster-Sproull, with her clever, fast moving group choreography and her recognizable stacking of body parts, providing illusions and unique imagery, has done a brilliant job of using the entire company in this refined look into the ideas of being held. To hold in your heart, to hold in your hand, to hold a grand plan and to hope, To Hold held me and fed my soul!

High Tide choreography and costume design Alice Topp
Music by Olafur Arnalds
Set and lighting by Jon Buswell

A huge white circle on the back of the cyclorama (perhaps representing the world) and a single dancer in front of it moves with his shadow in silence; it’s lovely to watch just the shadow, returning to the dancer to observe the ‘real’ movement.

The ensuing duos are a mix of refined, controlled action and quirky, playful movements, the lifts almost ethereal as they meld in, over and under each other. 

The costumes designed by Topp are bright and individual, perhaps representing the colours and the cultural differences of our world. The cowl necks on some of the tops and frocks drape beautifully and the chosen fabrics highlight the dancers’ movement. 

High Tide is definitely a positive spin on fear. The concept of a collective protest was evident in the work within the larger ensemble sections.  Like McGregor’s, Infra, High Tide presents exceptional and impeccably rehearsed and seamless pas de deux. The partnering is superb. Perhaps both choreographers could have placed the couples more attractively through the space as a line of couples across the stage was evident a number of times in both works.  

Jon Buswell’s set design, a giant metallic reflective blowup orb features dominantly centre stage. The reflective nature and size of it is curious as you see the dancers’ backs, it has a birds-eye-view concept, looking into the world’s fears as people reorient themselves through life, get up, carry on, face your fears, fears can become our joys. 

The soundscape by Olifur Arnalds worked inline with the concepts Topp is sharing and captures the mood effectively.

The physics of the lifts in some of the pas de deux, are at times challenging for the dancers. The distribution of balance, of weight in time and space, while maintaining the artistic integrity of the lifts smoothly and seamlessly, take significant skill and concentration. 

Many many accolades go to the proficient, refined and talented dancers of the RNZB. 

The choreographers are most fortunate to have a young, richly talented group of fabulous performers to work with.  

Solace is delightfully received by the audience this evening with many bows, flowers and thanks! 

Absolutely food for the soul!

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Audiences will love this show. It drips with joie de vivre and the expressive power of neo-classical dance. And oh what dancers – sublime connoisseurs of artful gusto!

The Royal New Zealand Ballet presents Solace, a triple bill. It jettisons the well-heeled three-act ballet for short works that focus on movement itself. It is excellent to have Sarah Foster- Sproull and Alice Topp choreographing in a domain that has long been dominated by men. The premier of their dances is cause for celebration.

Common in the works, is the investigation of phrases that warp the pathways of traditional classical steps. Dancers bend, curve, thrust hips, dismantle the straight spine then flick and twist the arms in powerful arcs. In pairs the females’ limbs are used as levers and pulleys. It is if they are being woven around the males’ bodies. Sometimes the angles seem impossible and sometimes they are ungainly and clunky.
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