When the Royal New Zealand Ballet last brought Russell Kerr’s production of Swan Lake to Christchurch over a decade ago it was performed on a far-from-ideal temporary stage in the cavernous space of what was then known as the CBS Arena.  Those performances in 2013, marking the sixtieth anniversary of the company, signaled that the RNZB had not forgotten Christchurch as it struggled to recover from the devastation of the 2011 earthquakes.  It was thus a particular pleasure to be able to revisit this classic of the company’s repertoire in the fitting setting of the rebuilt Theatre Royal. The death of Russell Kerr in 2022 added a further poignancy to the occasion, especially so since Christchurch had been his home for many years.  No better tribute could have been served in his memory.

Kerr’s production is no routine re-working of a well-worn classic but a thoughtful and sensitive rethinking of great work of theatre.  In Kerr’s staging Prince Siegfried is no aloof aristocrat but a young man in touch with his subjects, celebrating his birthday with ordinary people before the more formal celebrations at his mother’s court.  Before this can happen he undergoes a life-changing experience when he encounters the swan princess, Odette, and her cohort of attendants.  Nothing can be the same again as he searches in vain among the people of the court for the woman whose fate is in his hands.  I know of no other production where Siegfried becomes a participant in the sequence of national dances that is one of the features of the court festivities in Act Three.  Usually these are simply treated as colourful interludes, routine episodes in the construction of a full-length nineteenth-century ballet.  In Kerr’s hands they are stages in Siegfried’s quest as he searches among them to find the missing Odette.  When her counterpart, the malign but seductive Odile, appears on the scene as an unexpected party guest, he is already vulnerable and is all-to-easily ensnared.  In the midst of the great Act Three pas de deux for Siegfried and Odile she draws aside to confer with Rothbart.  It is a telling moment and the instruction she receives is absolutely clear: “You’ve got him; now finish the job.” And of course. She does. Such moments encapsulate the qualities of Kerr’s staging of Swan Lake as a very human drama, not just a fairy tale driven by magic and the supernatural.   In bringing the production back to the stage Turid Revfeim has achieved wonders and Kerr could not have wished for the ballet to have been in better hands; her staging is meticulous, nuanced and loving, yet never merely reverential since it is so full of life.

This Swan Lake is, however, a celebration of not one, but two great New Zealand men of the theatre. Its other defining feature is the designs of Kristian Fredrikson.  New Zealand audiences who have grown up with this production may think that the sumptuous costumes with their glowing hues and rich textures, the evocative and atmospheric sets and the carefully integrated colour palette is normal for productions of the ballet but it is, in reality utterly exceptional.  I can think of no staging of the ballet that outshines this Swan Lake for sheer visual splendor.  It is also hard to believe that this production is almost thirty years old since, following their recent refurbishment, Fredrikson’s costumes glow with renewed lustre. 

The company as a whole clearly recognizes that they are part of something special.  From the joyful dances of Act One to the honed precision of the corps de ballet of swans in Acts Two and Four, there is a sense that every dancer on stage is completely engaged.  As the Jester in Acts One and Three, Dane Head brings infectious enthusiasm to his role, surprising even himself with his antics.  As the curmudgeonly major domo, Wolfgang, Paul Matthews keeps everyone in order, although it is no criticism of Matthews to observe that this role will always be associated with another great of the New Zealand stage, the late Sir Jon Trimmer. 

Ultimately, Swan Lake depends on the two key roles of Siegfried and Odette/Odile and Joshua Guillemot-Rogerson and Ana Gallardo-Lobaina rise to the very considerable challenges they present.  Guillemot-Rogerson is a well-meaning, almost shy prince, intent on doing what is right but caught up in forces that are beyond his control.  Once he encounters Odette in Act Two his destiny is inescapable.  He is also an able and sensitive partner. Gallardo-Lobaina’s Odette is filled with emotion that pours out in the great pas de deux that is at the very heart of the ballet.  

It was at this point that the evening almost came unstuck, not because of anything that occurred on stage but because a mobile phone started ringing somewhere in the stalls; it went on and on… and then it was answered and a conversation ensued!  The audience were distracted; the wrapper rustlers who had been silenced by the drama onstage started up again and the magic of one of ballet’s most heartfelt moments was almost broken, but not quite.  There was no hint from anyone on stage that they had registered what was happening in the audience and one can only hope that the sound of the solo violin was sufficient to mask the noise from the auditorium. The perpetrator should be utterly ashamed; this was a mark of total disrespect for both performers and audience alike.

Happily, the performance continued unaffected.  The four Cygnets danced with crisp precision, providing the relief of tension that was needed following the pas de deux between Odette and Siegfried.  The variation for Odette that followed raised the emotional intensity of the act to a new level as it unfolded at an unusually slow speed with Gallardo-Lobaina in complete control. Time slowed down and it was absolutely heart-stopping, the kind of magical theatrical moment that occurs only rarely.  And then the act drew to its inevitable conclusion.

The Spanish, Hungarian and Neapolitan dances of Act Three were all  performed with enthusiastic elan but the dramatic focus of the act is the pas de deux for Odile and Siegfried.  Gallardo-Lobiana’s transformation into the seductive Odile was cleverly balanced, employing just enough of the lyrical softness of the Odette she has to persuade Siegfried to forget to draw him into her web.   When she knew she had triumphed deceptive caution was thrown to the winds and her true character fully emerged.   

The final act of Swan Lake is, in some respects, the most difficult to pull off.  Some interpretations have the lovers reunited and almost literally trampling on the defeated Rothbart; others have them rushing to their deaths in the lake to be united in death.  Kerr follows his own path, exploring contrasting emotions as the act evolves; Odette’s sorrow, Siegfried’s despair, her forgiveness and the ultimate reassertion of love which signals the downfall of the evil Rothbart.  In this production, Zacharie Dun’s Rothbart is, never a totally malign villain but has a human dimension that makes him all the more believable.  Kerr’s solution to Act Four is entirely consistent with the rest of his vision; as Rothbart is swept aside Odette and Siegfried disappear into a halo of light in a final apotheosis as the swans, transfigured, regain their human form.

Throughout the performance the company was well supported by the Christchurch Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Hamish McKeich.  In lesser productions of Swan Lake Tchaikovsky’s symphonic score can easily steal the show but here the musicians seamlessly responded to the ebb and flow of the drama as part of a completely integrated whole.

For the RNZB’s recently appointed artistic director, Ty King-Wall, this production of Swan Lake has special significance.  Seeing it in 1996 set him on a path towards a career in ballet; he appeared in it as a guest principal in 2013 when it was revived to mark the company’s 60^th anniversary, and he has chosen to stage it as the first main production of his tenure as artistic director.  The significance of such connections across time should not be underestimated for they suggest not just an awareness of continuity with the past, but a wider sense of connectedness and engagement with a tradition that is now 70 years old.  It is an auspicious beginning. 

The RNZB’s Swan Lake belies the fact that it is now nearly thirty years old; it has the freshness and immediacy of a newly minted work. Surely this is the definition of a classic. Russell Kerr and Kristian Fredrikson have been properly honoured and we can surely look to the future with confidence.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

There is much to celebrate in this sumptuous production of Russell Kerr’s Swan Lake, particularly as it is the first main-stage production of the new Artistic Director, Ty King-Wall in 2024. Described by interim Director David McAllister as “a passionate New Zealander” it seems certain that under King-Wall’s guidance the Company is in a safe pair of hands. The sell-out audience at opening night in the Kiri Te Kanawa Theatre enthusiastically applaud and call out their approval of the performance by this company of beautiful artists, accompanied by the stirring live music of the Auckland Philharmonia.

At the heart of this beloved work are the two main pas-de-deux in Acts 2 and 3 – the love story between the swan-maiden Odette and Siegfried, followed by the seduction of the Prince by Odile – here performed by Mayu Tanigaito as Odette/Odile and Laurynas Vėjalis as Siegfried. As the princess transformed into a swan through the machinations of the magician Rothbart, Tanigaito invests her role with an emotional intensity that is both moving and authentic. The Philharmonia under conductor Hamish McKeich gives a subtle and delicate performance of Tchaikovsky’s score during this romantic pas-de-deux, lulling the audience into reverential stillness – so that there were moments when you could have heard a pin drop. This serves to heighten the impact of the beautiful choreography greatly.

Tanigaito has the requisite strength of technique to perform the demanding dual roles of Odette and Odile to perfection, but it is her artistry particularly as the Swan Princess that creates the magic. She adopts an alluring persona as Odile revelling in the showy bravura dancing that beguiles Siegfried into betraying Odette and pulling off the 32 fouettes with ease.  Her balances in arabesque are superb. 

Vėjalis is a skilled partner and in the true romantic tradition displays Tanigaito’s skills as paramount. His bearing is regal and his lovelorn detachment early in Act 3 as three princesses vie for his hand in marriage, is strongly conveyed. His subsequent animation and sparkling dancing as he falls under Rothbart and Odile’s spell is compelling. Then his remorse and ultimate sacrifice for love in Act 4 adds heft to an already convincing portrayal.

Zacharie Dun portrays Rothbart with a steely and unsmiling intensity, eschewing histrionics to develop a more charismatic character – thus disguising his malevolence. Dane Head as the Jester pops up repeatedly with a bouncy insouciance and dances with joyous abandon. Paul Mathews returns to the Company as guest artist as Siegfried’s erstwhile tutor Wolfgang, depicting him comically as a slightly bumbling eccentric. Ballet Master Clytie Campbell is gracious and stately as the Princess Mother determined in her resolve to see her son married off.

The Corps-de-Ballet frame every scene throughout the four acts with superb commitment, that is a joy to watch. The Pas-de-Trois in Act 1 is delightful and the audience adore the sure-footed dance of the Cygnets. I particularly enjoyed the floral garland formations of Act 1 and the crisp dancing of the Spanish, Hungarian and Neapolitan divertissements of Act 3. But of course, it is the swans that provide the picture-book perfection of the work and they don’t disappoint in their mastery of stance, attention to detail and unwavering focus throughout Acts 2 and 4. So many of the dancers draw the eye in the course of the evening, but I particularly enjoy watching Caterina Estévez Collins, Kihiro Kusukami and Timothy Ching.

Turid Revfeim has stepped up to stage this version of Swan Lake after Russell Kerr’s untimely death in 2022. Receiving and then activating such a precious legacy is no easy task and she has vested the production with Kerr’s wit and musicality to ensure its veracity. Her huge experience with the Company over the years – many of them under Kerr’s tutelage – have ensured her sure grasp of all his choreographic language. Kerr succeeded in putting his imprint on the work by making Tchaikovsky’s “music visible” while remaining cognisant of the joys of Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov’s choreography. Revfeim is aided in recreating the work by Amber Scott who is Principal Coach to the Company.

The late Kristian Fredrikson’s costumes have been creatively revived to be revealed in all their splendour. The swans’ tutus are the most beautiful of all, but Rothbart’s owl disguise is a complete work of art. The sets create a garden, a lake-side cloistered world of overhead foliage or the magnificence of a gilded court setting. Jon Buswell has sensitively lit these spaces while ensuring that the magic of theatre is always apparent. 

It is to be hoped that this Swan Lake continues to be a staple of the Company’s repertoire in the years to come, thereby ensuring that master choreographer Russell Kerr’s creation and overall contribution to New Zealand dance, is kept alive.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

This pedigree production of Swan Lake by Russell Kerr, the beloved father figure of ballet in New Zealand, was first staged on the company in 1996 and again in 2002, 2007 and 2013. Russell Kerr died in 2022 so this re-staging is the first not under his direction.

It proves a triumph on several levels, and is giving many a balletomane a sense of coming home. To some degree that involves the sumptuous sets and distinctive costumes by designer Kristian Fredrikson, which still carry as well as they did nigh on three decades ago. The cut and the cloth, the colours, weight and scale of all of Fredrikson’s work come from a singular vision.  

Read More

Alternative cast review by Jennifer Shennan

Swan Lake Revisited

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

Turid Revfeim describes the tutus worn by dancers at the centre of The Royal New Zealand Ballet’s production of Swan Lake: ‘’The original swan costumes were not just plain white but mother of pearl, with shimmering hues of pale blue and silver, like droplets of water reflected in the moonlight.“

Her words capture one small, yet at the same time expansive detail, in a production that is a confluence of finest artistry.

Read More

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

The legends live on! 

This epic production pays homage to the nineteenth Century classic story as it salutes and applauds those who have historically worked tirelessly to it keep alive. 

Ably fitting as a nation’s company anniversary celebration, the New Zealand Ballet’s Swan Lake dates back some seventy years when Act II first took flight in 1953.  With the presentation of traditional choreography by Lev Ivanov adapted by the company’s founder, Poul Gnatt, Swan Lake: Act II takes its first place in Kiwi history.

Fast forward a few years and many noted famous people’s involvement to 1985, and the newly recognized Royal New Zealand Ballet, stages its first full- length of Swan Lake.

Over time, having been re-jigged, re-invented or re-imagined, the scenario today remains. These artistic interpretations either good or challenging have allowed the ballet to stay afloat. 

As a multi-role dancer, viewer, and reviewer of internationally acclaimed companies worldwide, I feel privileged to have experienced many, many versions of said artistry.

In the words of the legendary late Russell Kerr, he keeps it real. “I believe my task has been to make the music visible, to retain passages of original choreography without making the ballet a museum piece, but not destroying choreographic credibility by too forceful an updating.” 

The theatre is full. From the haunting first note of the oboe in the overture, the audience is captured even before curtain up.  The score originally first composed by Tchaikovsky in 1877 is passionately brought to life by the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra conducted by Hamish McKeich. As they go on, variable tempi speeds sympathetically accommodate the perfect technical execution for dancing principals and precise corps de ballet.

And so the story unfolds.

Prince Seigfrid, supremely danced by Laurynas Vėjalis, encounters a flock of swans while out hunting. He is transfixed and falls in love with the Swan Queen Odette/ Odile performed by Mayu Tanigaito, swearing his allegiance and undying love. She tells of the curse put on her and her friends by a vindictive sorcerer Von Rothbart, portrayed by Branden Reiners. 
Trapped as Swans by day yet human by night. Will love win out?

In Kerr’s version, the ending is one of a breathtaking, everlasting hope together, rather than one of dramatic suicide.

Marvelling at Tanigaito’s sheer strength and technical athleticism in her duo role, I yearned however to see and feel her sensitive love-torn pain, adoration and desperation as Odette.
In Seigfried’s solos, Vėjalis defies gravity with pure, superbly- sustained stunning elevation and perfect pirouettes. A great partner. 

To keep the atmosphere light, the buoyant frivolity by Jester, Shaun James Kelly, boldly executes intricate tricks with comic panache.
Everyone plays their part well, whether they are a peasant or aristocracy.

Always an audience favourite, the swan corps de ballet perform with military precision, ably supported by additional swans from the New Zealand School of Dance. In time, as the season advances, they will relax into ‘being the swan’ emulating grace and poetic birdlike curve.

Favourite vignettes of mine that display Kerr’s quirky dexterous choreographic variety are the Spanish, Hungarian and Neopolitan trios seen in the Great Hall of the royal Castle.

And either in the forest, lakeside or the Castle, Kristian Fredrikson’s sets and exquisite lavish opulent costuming is magnificent.

This 2024 Season rapturously erupts onto the stage!
All involved onstage and behind the scenes should take flight on a nationwide tour with immense joyous pride.
Bravo Russell. Bravo Royal New Zealand Ballet giving further life for immemorial Swan Lake! 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

Among the things that draw ballet aficionados to see the enduring nineteenth century classic story ballets again and again, are their lush, romantic orchestral scores played live, the often opulent sets and costume designs created in earlier eras, equal weighting of ensemble work and bravura solos, and the chance to see famously challenging choreography danced by a new generation of dancers, often including internationally experienced guest stars in the principal roles. 

And so it is with the Royal New Zealand Ballet’s Swan Lake, now nearing the end of a national tour. Previous reviews have attested to the artistry of the guest stars in this season – Cuba-trained Karel Cruz (Pacific Northwest Ballet) as Prince Siegfried  partnering the company’s own principal Guest Artist Gillian Murphy (American Ballet Theatre) as Odette/Odile , paralleled  by Ty King-Wall and Amber Scott  (The Australian Ballet). Other casts have seen senior company dancer Abigail Boyle paired with RNZB principal dancer Qi Huan, and the rising stars Lucy Green and Kohei Iwamoto.

The much anticipated pairing of principal dancers Gillian Murphy and Qi Huan was not scheduled til the final major centre for this tour, Auckland, at the grand Civic Theatre. And just as they were superb partners in Giselle, they are again superb here.

Gillian Murphy’s finesse and artistry is seen to the full in her beautiful, delicate, feathery, soaring swan maiden Odette, and her steely, triumphant mesmerizing evil twin Odile. She deeply fulfills all the technical and emotional challenges of the joint roles, while providing the requisite counterfoils and moving the plotline forward through her interactions with the other swan maidens , the Sorceror Von Rothbart (in the guise of an Owl),  Prince Siegfried, his Mother, and the many guests at Siegfried’s birthday ball. Her subtly quivering foot which comprises the last moments of a stunning grand pas de deux near the end of Act 2 absolutely rivets all attention,  and when it comes to the famous fouettes which mark Odile’s total command of events, she nonchalantly varies them with triple pirouettes, upping the ante.  We are extremely fortunate to have her dancing regularly in New Zealand.

Huan is also a very fine dancer, with soaring leaps, concise, cleanly controlled spins and beautiful feet, ably fulfilling the bravura demands in high overhead lifts and the deep swan dive, providing secure partnering at all times. After his disinterest in naming a bride at his birthday ball has been subverted by Odile, he is left with a kind of possum-in-the-headlights despair, but once back at the lakeside in the company of the Swan Maidens, his ardent side comes to the fore in his interchanges with Odette, leading to their ultimate joint suicide.

The Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra, under the direction of conductor Nigel Gaynor, play Tchaikovsky’s glorious score in Auckland and the live score makes the ballet experience so much the richer. From the very first notes of the overture to the final coda, the music enlarges the emotional subtext of the narrative, with repeated motifs providing through lines for the plot, and reiterates passages which underline the essential duplicity at the heart of the tale. Gaynor’s conducting has it’s own sense of bravura, carefully matching Gillian Murphy’s oh-so-perfect  timing of particular moves.

Kristian Fredrikson’s opulent designs for the birthday ball scene, originally created in 1996, are almost rococo in their lavishness, with use of dark burgundy, navy,  and inky black swirls interlayered with sequins and lace, jewels and gold braids. However, when the warm gold lighting of the ball scene changes to intense white with lightning flashes at the moment of Siegfried’s capitulation  to Odile and betrayal of Odette, the logic of the design becomes apparent: the guests so costumed  — begin to withdraw, showing just how far Rothbart’s subversion of the court has gone, adding to the sudden chill in the air.

The company is in excellent form all round, dancing most impressively, and they have drawn capacity audiences throughout this tour..

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

The Royal  New Zealand Ballet’s Swan Lake presents the company in splendid form throughout the work’s four acts, elaborately costumed by Kristian Fredrickson, dancing to the music of Tchaikovsky, with choreography by Russell Kerr which honours the 1877 Petipa-Ivanov original. This classic “white” story ballet is famous for its bravura pas de deux and solos, and includes a series of iconic moments which draw aficionados back to see it  time after time – most famous perhaps the rows of female dancers with faces framed in white feather headresses and wearing embroidered, bejewelled, petalled-skirted tutus which yield as if made of feathers, swans slowly emerging from mist on the lake, soaring lifts and a deep swan dive which are the means by which Prince Siegfried declares the depth of his love for the swan maiden Odette.

The narrative, of course, is somewhat unbelievable, derived from Russian and German folk tales with a moral twist to warn young men and women not aspire to roles outside the status of their birth. So here we have a young man on the cusp of turning 21, a time at which he must assume his late father’s responsibilities to administrate the local duchy, and he must name a bride from amongst the suitable foreign princesses who are guests at a birthday ball in his honor.  The twist in the tale, however, is that instead of choosing one of the foreign princesses, he is tricked into pledging his love to a seductive black-clad woman, Odile, who is a duplicitous doppleganger for the beautiful Odette, swan by day, maiden by night, with whom  he has developed an understanding. Odette is one of a group of young women trapped in swan bodies by an evil sorcerer, Von Rothbart, and Odile is his daughter: the only way to break the sorceror’s power and free all the swan maidens is for Siegfried and Odette to commit suicide together.

Indeed.

In their New Zealand debuts, Australian Ballet principal dancers Ty King-Wall and Amber Scott provide beautifully complementary performances as guest stars in the roles of Prince Siegfried and Odette/Odile, ably fulfilling the work’s bravura demands.

At 26, and just recently promoted to principal dancer, King-Wall is a credible Siegfried. He is about the right age to be the prince. He is slim and strong,  and attains impressive heights in his lofty leaps. He has a regal bearing and clean footwork,  plus the requisite social graces when it comes to greeting nobles and peasants, but he seems awfully young to be saddled with the responsibilities of ruling the local duchy in his late father’s place.  And he is understandably reluctant to name a bride at the ball to mark his coming of age. He is disinterested in the local beauties, and once he has fulfilled his obligations to meet, greet, and dance impressively for guests arriving for the next evening’s festivities, he retreats to the nearby lakeside.

He becomes very clearly fascinated with one of a flock swans (Odette), and is increasingly entranced by her beauty and delicacy, and her uncanny mix of birdlike movement and womanliness.  When he impulsively starts to pledge his love for her, she stops him, and explains the nature of a sorceror’s power over the flock.  Subsequently, at the next evening’s ball, he is bewitched by her evil twin, Odile, whom the sorcerer has ordered to secure Siegfried’s pledge of love. Siegfried is visibly dismayed when he realizes he has been ensared in the sorceror’s trap, and flees back to the lakeside to make amends, subsequently joining Odette in a suicide pact.

Amber Scott is a willowy dancer with beautifully balanced proportions and her long arms and supple wrists, flexible torso and strong legs all contribute to her embodiment of the marvelous swan – ranging from ruffling feathers  and quivering poise to steely flight poses . Her  dancing makes clear the distinctions between Odette –  primarily  a swan, with womanly instincts, and Odile  – a seductive temptress with the ability to produce Odette’s swan-like movements on demand.  

King-Wall’s partnering is sensitive to Scott’s needs, providing the room she needs to manouevre and assert her sense of self, and fulfilling the iconic moments when she is raised high above his head in a series of soaring lifts which declare his love for her regardless of their joint fate; dipping her almost to the floor in the swan dive; and gliding in behind to provide support when (as Odile) she begins to tire in the famous fouettes. 

The flock of swans is picture perfect, arrayed in their ranks from smallest at the front to tallest at the back, moving smoothly through the various formations which provide their framing of  Odette and her Prince, and magically emerging from the mist on the lake which at times hides their legs altogether. The company also provides an impressive  array of nobles, courtiers, and villagers who present various formation dances reflecting their social standing, and provide the framing for interchanges between Siegfried, his mother (Laura Jones), his tutor Wolfgang (Jon Trimmer), and a commedia del’arte Jester (Rory Fairweather-Neylan) who provides moments of light relief with virtuoso antics.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

As a part of the 60^th birthday celebrations undertaken this year by the Royal New Zealand Ballet, Russell Kerr’s production of Swan Lake makes a very welcome return to the stage. This is the fourth time this production has toured the country since its creation in 1996 and none of the original magic has been lost.

This is ballet at its best – make no mistake. So much dance is packed into the two-hour spectacle that no one could possibly leave the theatre wanting more. And whilst there is undoubtedly some splendid dancing (and acting) from the company, it has to be said that the star of this production is the choreography itself – primarily the sublime musicality and construction of the dance. This is one of those things that easily goes unnoticed – which is itself evidence of Kerr’s genius at work. The steps themselves match, anticipate, and provide completion to Tchaikovsky’s legendary score. The onstage formations of the swans convey imprisonment, strength and vulnerability. Practically speaking – the choreography being so complete (and yet subtle) in this way – lets us get on with the joyous task of watching the story portrayed before us.

Kerr’s production tells the story firmly through the eyes of Prince Siegfried – one of the two main roles in the story. The first act captures how close the Prince feels to his subjects in the surrounding villages, his courtesy, his nobility – yet also the disconnectedness which comes from his royal station. For the past few years the lead male roles in Royal New Zealand Ballet productions have often been largely dominated by the formidably talented Qi Huan – but last night in Christchurch Kohei Iwamoto strode fearlessly to the stage and delivered a performance to make all sit up and take notice, in a role that he was destined to play. Iwamoto has superb technique and elevation, but more to the point, he *gets* this role. His dramatic interpretation is completely in line with Kerr’s choreography and he is a joy to watch.

Amongst the village celebrations of the first act (danced with splendid attack from the company), the pas de trois was a real highlight. Jacob Chown showed clean lines and soft landings, and Mayu Tanigaito especially impressed as a dancer to watch for.

Young company member Lucy Green last night made a huge stride in her performance capabilities, tackling the demanding role of Odette / Odile. Here is a young woman with enormous promise and true sincerity in her performance. The only things that might be said to be lacking are elements that will solely come from more years undertaking such roles – and these are years that we look forward to immensely. Her footwork is sharp, sure, and she works hard to convey the unique character of the swan maiden Odette (as well as her evil counterpart) with some great decision making. 

The partnership between Iwamoto and Green must also be mentioned. The term ‘synergy’ is used to describe a situation when the sum of the whole is greater than the sum of the individual parts. The partnering between Iwamoto and Green shone last night – something that was greater even than the considerable talent of each of these two artists individually.

The backbone of Swan Lake lies in the ‘white’ acts – when the swans dominate the stage. If this element is weak – the performance will be unsuccessful. The females within the ballet company happily respond to this challenge, displaying well drilled and polished ensemble work. Tonia Looker, Adriana Harper, Kat Grange and Bronte Kelly performed the much anticipated Dance of the Cygnets with wonderful precision. The corps are to be commended for their attack and care.

Elsewhere, Brendan Bradshaw clearly relished the role of the evil Baron von Rothbart, with a focused and intelligent character study. Helio Lima was sharp and impressive as the Jester (with more comic timing yet to be developed). It was fantastic also to see some familiar (non-Royal New Zealand Ballet) Christchurch faces onstage, as non-dancing roles.

The Christchurch Symphony Orchestra conducted by Nigel Gaynor played the score with real aplomb – wringing the emotion and drama from the splendid score and receiving a duly deserved ovation at the conclusion of the performance.

Swan Lake is a wonderful production and a pillar of the current repertoire. As a dance going audience, we are incredibly grateful for this gift (even though it is not our birthday being celebrated!) from Russell Kerr, from Artistic Director Ethan Stiefel and General Manager Amanda Skoog, and from the wonderful group of young dancers which form our national company. Happy Birthday to you. 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

We are in our seats at St.James Theatre, for a matinee of Swan Lake. This is a re-staging of the 1996 production by Russell Kerr (named an Icon by the Arts Foundation: never was a title better ascribed.) The Wellington season (dedicated to the memory of stalwart arts protagonist, Richard Campion) ends after curtain down tonight, and pack-out will commence for their national tour that continues until early September.

The Company’s survival for 60 years, against various negative forces that more than once tried to close it down, could itself be choreographed. Russell Kerr would probably lend the title from one of his own earlier works … Scripting the Dreams.

Amid the sounds of the orchestra warming up in the pit, it’s the wailing oboes that seem to presage the enormity of the four-act saga that is about to get under way.  Despite our familiarity with Tchaikovsky’s composition, we still thrill to the sublime colours and qualities in the score. We know about the violin solo that will play in an hour or so.   My 5 year old companion is hearing this music for the first time, and whispers, “Is a harp always that beautiful?”  (She has already asked “Is this story really, really true … like really, true life?” What should I tell her?)

Is Swan Lake a romantic telling of a remote German legend about the power of good love countering evil addiction? of wounded women living half-lives? a bully, von Rothbart, habituated to cruelly maltreating others and deceiving those around him with disguises? Is all of it drawn from far away 19th century Europe?

The best choreography is allegorical, and themes in ballet’s settings can sometimes take on stark significance in the light of contemporary events. Antony Tudor’s Dark Elegies, to Mahler’s Kindertotenlieder, deeply moving at the best of times, became achingly more so in the days following the tragedy in 1966 of the collapse of a coal slagheap at Aberfan, Wales, that killed an entire school of children.  Audiences were awash throughout Rambert Dance Company’s performances of the ballet at the time.

Ireland’s theatre ensemble of genius, Fabulous Beast, dedicated their remarkable Giselle (staged at an International Arts Festival here, 2008) to the Irish girl who was found dead, her stillborn infant alongside, in front of a forest grotto of the Virgin … witness to the undoing that some Albrecht by another name had visited on her.

Just this week in Ohio, a criminal was sentenced to “life imprisonment plus 1000 years”, in a plea bargain that saved him from the death penalty. He had incarcerated three women in his house for years, raped and assaulted them, fathered a child by one of them. When he asked if he could see “his” child before descending to prison, the judge replied a resounding, disgusted “Never”, but did not address him by what could well have been his real name, Baron von Rothbart.

It is the dancers’ challenge to portray their roles in specific ways within a production yet also offer resonance of wider readings. We are not here to count fouettes or applaud the height of jetes, so much as to gauge a dancer’s interpretation, through those technical feats, of the emotional experiences of character. Fiction? Maybe.  Really true life? Maybe.

There have been three alternate casts in the lead and solo roles so far this season.  Gillian Murphy as Odette / Odile, partnered by Cuban dancer Karel Cruz as Siegfried, have set a sublime performance in our memory.  Lucy Green, with Kohei Iwamoto, taking these roles for the first time, are beautifully partnered and move us beyond words.  Abigail Boyle and Qi Huan have a depth and honesty in their shared emotion that we drink deeply from. It is a mark of strength of this relatively small company that it can offer alternate casts of such calibre. Russell Kerr is renowned for the encouragement and space he gives to dancers to develop roles in the way they themselves can believe in.   

At the recent launch of the book, Royal New Zealand Ballet at Sixty, many told an anecdote from past decades. They were mostly about wardrobe malfunctions, or of mid-performance hitches that require all the dancers’ resourcefulness and quick wits to carry on, mostly without the audience knowing anything was amiss (unless the scenery had caught fire, or an earthquake required evacuation of the building.)

It’s of course always easier to remember the one-offs. It’s not that we want the bad news … it just is intriguing to know how people cope with the unexpected, and still keep their calm.  It also means that on all ten thousand and one nights, when nothing did go wrong, a beautiful poetry of emotion has entered our kinaesthetic experience. That lasts forever, and becomes a part of us.

Fortunately the golden glow of dawn light filtering onto the final scene allows the reading that Odette and Siegfried have gone to a beautiful place, after the dreaded von Rothbart has lost all his power over them, and drowned in the lake. So it’s “Yes my dear … it’s a bit like really true life. Good friends are better than bullies, and always win in the end.”

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

A more fitting tribute to the Royal New Zealand Ballet’s 60th anniversary than this stunning Swan Lake would be hard to imagine. It is choreographer Russell Kerr’s fourth production and they get better every time. 

What would be the feather in the company’s cap if it were not the jewel in its crown, is the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra which accompanies the Wellington season. Nigel Gaynor conducts with flair and great sensitivity. Together they capture all the sweeping richness of Tchaikovsky’s wonderful score.

Add to this splendour sumptuous costumes and sets by the late Kristian Fredrikson, atmospheric lighting by John Buswell, the ballet in top form and two superb principal dancers and you have an unforgettable evening.

In the dual role of Odette/Odile, Gillian Murphy is magnificent. [More]

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

Russell Kerr comes onto the stage in the curtain call for the 60^th anniversary season of Swan Lake by the Royal New Zealand Ballet. The cast salute him as do members of the audience – some on their feet. 

He is 83 with a walking stick, vibrant and slightly stooped. He has endured, as has his choreography, this is the third time this sparkling version has been mounted on the company. 50 years ago he was the director of a fledgling company, today as then it is a resplendent tour de force of local and international talent: it is so fitting that Russell Kerr’s choreography (after Petipa and Ivanov) should mark this celebration and honouring of dance pioneers in New Zealand. There are many artists who have toiled, on stage and back stage, over the years to make a season like this possible.

Swan Lake is a love story and a battle between good and evil, purity and deceitful manipulation, the ethereal versus the material world. The story is derived from Russian folk tales with the central image of the swan having deep resonances in that culture. The score by Tchaikovsky is famous and rightly so, it creates a beautiful frame for this magic to happen. Dripping in hyper-romance, Swan Lake is a perfect vehicle for a night of opulent production elements and potentially a deep emotional connection with the plight of the characters.

The work revolves around the artistry of the central figures of Prince Siegfried, his love interest Odette, and her nemesis Odile.

In Act I we are introduced to Siegfried’s world.  The production elements from the 2007 version still impress “We are transported back in time to a beautifully realized picture book setting: set and costumes lavishly designed by the celebrated Kristian Fredrikson, lighting designed by Jon Bushwell” (2007 review).  The costumiers and scenography painters, who realize this vision, are highly skilled artists in their own right.

This prince, guest artist Karel Cruz, has a whimsical, vulnerable character, almost diffident. He is statuesque, with elegant legs that go on for ever as the peasants of the village dance exuberantly around him. Mr Kerr has added swirling circular patterns here to evoke the bustle of this community. A joyous bouncy jester (Rory Fairweather-Neylan) and sparkling trio (Lucy Green, Tonia Locker, Arata Miyagawa) fail to alter his mood as he yearns for a love that this world cannot fulfil.  The company is in fantastic form, dancing with passion and generosity.

Eventually this lonely prince finds his way into the wilderness, presumably to hunt, but his encounter with – Odette- a woman cursed into the body of swan- changes everything.

Act II – Night falls and enchantment happens.

One of the key elements of this act is the performance of the corps de ballet as Odette’s kin. Here the dedication and skill of ballet mistress Turid Revfeim and ballet master Martin Vedel come to the fore, this flock of swans are brilliant. The cygnets are precise and dynamic and the big swans lyrical and expansive.

Gillian Murphy is a principal guest artist with the company and this is cause for celebration. She is sublime and utterly convincing as the timid swan/woman with a bravura display of technique and heartfelt acting. Her double pirouette into a 3rd turn with side backbend is extraordinary.

Eventually she yields to the advances of the prince, and the chemistry between these two dancers starts to take hold. In the famous love duet from this act, principal violin for the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Vesa-Matti Leppanen plays in a way that supports the special quality of this moment and the reason why this classic prevails.  A hush falls on the theatre.  Ms Murphy’s foot trembles against her ankle as she pirouettes, held with one hand by Mr Cruz, and the duet comes to a close. These characters are smitten and hold our hearts in their dancing souls.

The NZSO is wonderful under the baton of Nigel Gaynor as the rich score by Tchaikovsky swells and recedes throughout this long evening of dance. It is a marathon of the artistic world.

Act III again has sumptuous production elements and fantastic variations. Lucy Balfour, Dimitri Kleioris and Helio Lima smoulder as the Spaniards. Clytie Campbell, Brendan Bradshaw and Jacob Chown are Hungarian and sensuous. Adriana Harper and Medhi Angot are vibrant as the Neopolitans.

Rothbert, suitably malign, appears in the best coat ever made to conjure his daughter Odile in the guise of Odette to seduce Siegfried.

Gillian Murphy is once again outstanding, completely transformed from the lithe and trembling Odette into a serpentine temptress. She tends to draw out sequences and use her focus and eye-line to great effect,  to draw the audience into the palm of her articulate hand. The drama of the scene sizzles with virtuoso variations, even some extra arms thrown into the famous fouette sequence.

Back at the lakeside, the story is wrapped up with the lovers reconciled, and we are left with enduring images of a strong production.

Cause for celebration indeed that brave and dedicated artists continue to wrestle with this most demanding of art forms and to bring it to the stage in New Zealand.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer