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Power Play

The lights dim and the mystical Eye of Horus commands our focus. Hieroglyphics and distinctive carvings flank the famous Egyptian symbol of resurrection as the overture swells and the drop curtain morphs into a portal to the past. It’s a spectacle fit for a queen. The opening prologue to K-Ballet Tokyo’s “Cleopatra” illuminates silhouetted glimpses of the historical and literary icon as she moves down a suspended staircase evoking otherworldly realms. 

Performance

K-Ballet Tokyo: “Cleopatra” by Tetsuya Kumakawa

Place

Bunkamura Orchard Hall, Tokyo, Japan, September 23, 2026

Words

Kris Kosaka

Sena Hidaka in “Cleopatra” by Tetsuya Kumakawa. Photograph courtesy of K-Ballet Tokyo 

Principal ballerina Sena Hidaka embodies Cleopatra with sinuous movements and regal grace to launch the ballet. Premiering in 2017, Tetsuya Kumakawa directed, choreographed, wrote the scenario and pieced together the score using music from the Danish composer Carl Nielsen for his first full length original production. Drawing from a range of literary, historical, and even balletic sources, Kumakawa’s vision humanizes the legendary queen while exploring the heights and depths of power. 

The otherworldly staircase and snake imagery in the short prologue foreshadow these contrasting views of Cleopatra throughout the ballet. Although achieving goddess-like status in Egypt as a savvy politician and scholar navigating instability as a woman and the last of the Ptolemy dynasty, Roman propaganda long painted her as a ruthless femme fatale. Kumakawa’s version melds the two.

Overall, Hidaka imbues the tenacious strategian queen with an appealing vulnerability. In Act One, Hidaka is both canny and cruel. She dismisses her immature brother/ husband (Shu Kurihara) with disdain, and hones her weapons of seduction and poison. 

For world-building, Daniel Ostling’s minimalistic, geometric gold and turquoise staging recalls the shape of the pyramids, as does the consistently gorgeous costumes by Ayako Maeda. Bent wrists, turned heads, elbows and knees at sharp angles form a distinctive choreographic vocabulary, effectively integrated within classical steps to mostly avoid two-dimensional stereotypes.

There’s also a heavy dose of serpentine seduction. An early pas de deux between Hidaka and the male slave (Yeonghwi Kim) chosen for pleasure, is sinuously erotic. From writhing prone to sexually-suggestive lifts, their movements are both earthy and savage; afterwards, Hidaka dispatches the slave with poison, a sly Easter egg for ballotmanes referencing Michel Fokine's 1909 one-act for Ballets Russes, “Cléopâtre.”

Sena Hidaka in “Cleopatra” by Tetsuya Kumakawa. Photograph courtesy of K-Ballet Tokyo 

Sena Hidaka in “Cleopatra” by Tetsuya Kumakawa. Photograph courtesy of K-Ballet Tokyo 

Yet Act One also showcases the queen’s humanity. Hidaka’s solo by the bedside of the wounded Roman general Pompeius (Nikolay Viyuzhanin), who seeks shelter in Egypt after infighting in Rome, is exquisite. Hidaka’s eloquent, yearning extensions, fluttering bourres to wistful balances, all speak to Cleopatra’s weary burden and the longing for a Roman alliance. But Hidaka instantly reverts to the cold tactician when Pompeius awakens. 

Calculating and hedging, a marvel of physical negotiation, their brief pas de deux details the treacherous, entrenched power plays between Rome and Egypt. From a delicate arabesque, Hidaka drops into an illusion and spins out from Pompeius’ grasp to end the sequence, a masterful stroke of characterization perfectly executed. 

It’s a clever build to Hidaka/ Cleopatra’s legendary first meet with Julius Caesar, danced by artistic director Shuntaro Miyao, and the highlight of the Act. First, four of Cleopatra’s attendants dance to honor the great leader (Misakai Hara, Hana Ito, Kanon Nakayama, Momoko Fusegawa), all excellent. The contrast in style and choreography through the four variations showcase the depth of the company, also adding some welcomed humor as Caesar/ Miyao is obviously bored by their efforts. 

It also sets up Cleopatra’s famous entrance, hidden in the rolled folds of a rug. Hidaka and Miyao’s subsequent pas de deux is dramatically enhanced by Hisashi Adachi’s lighting. Shadows elongate and lengthen behind them as Miyao’s assertive power juxtaposes against Hidaka’s uncoiling submissiveness, portraying the mighty pairing in a breathless marvel of advance and retreat, awe and respect on both sides. 

Shuntaro Miyao and Sena Hidaka in “Cleopatra” by Tetsuya Kumakawa. Photograph courtesy of K-Ballet Tokyo 

Shuntaro Miyao and Sena Hidaka in “Cleopatra” by Tetsuya Kumakawa. Photograph courtesy of K-Ballet Tokyo 

While Act One exudes charm, seduction and cunning as feminine weapons to power, Act Two shifts to the aggression and tyranny of masculine power with the focus on Antonius (Marc Antony) danced by Masaya Yamamoto and his own mighty opposite, Octavianus (Hayato Takei).

As the curtain opens, the pomp of the empire is instantly transmitted in the flowing red banner featuring a bust of Caesar. Cleopatra’s exalted position and settled love is symbolized by their adolescent son, a secure status quo that will soon be destroyed. 

Highlights of Act Two include the many bold variations on power—what humans do to assume it, retain it, to overthrow it. There’s energetic and commanding ensembles by the Roman soldiers, Antonius’ grand leaps and Octavianus’ youthful idealism. Caesar’s assassination and Brutus’ (Kanta Kohno) betrayal is arresting, another impressive use of dramatic spectacle. There’s also a poignant side narrative of Octavia (Shiori Kase), Octavianus’ sister, married to Antonius to cement political alliances, another innocent victim of the cruel repercussions of power’s stratagems as Yamamoto abandons her in a heart-wrenching pas de deux to pursue Cleopatra. 

By the time we return to Cleopatra, the die has been cast. Despite a brief interlude of hope with Antonius, history prevails with Octavianus’ triumph. The ballet comes full circle to end at the mystical staircase, another brilliant stroke of spectacle for this charismatic queen fated above all to endure, at least in our imaginations. 

Kris Kosaka


Kris Kosaka is a writer and educator based in Kamakura, Japan. A lifelong ballet fan and studio rat in her youth, she's been contributing to the Japan Times since 2009. She writes across culture, but especially in dance, opera and literature. 

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