In their brand new facility in Sydney’s Walsh Bay, Bangarra Dance Theatre have once again produced an awe-inspiring work, but this time, it might also be their sweetest; their first offering for children: “Waru—Journey of the Small Turtle.”
The New York City Ballet opened its Fall Season with a bill of three Balanchine ballets which premiered in a relative cluster: “Divertimento No. 15” (1956), “Scotch Symphony” (1952) and “La Sonnambula” (1960). The first and last of these were reworkings. “Divert” was an update of “Caracole,” a ballet made in 1952 to the same Mozart score, which Balanchine and the dancers had simply forgotten when they tried to revive it four years later. “La Sonnambula,” titled “Night Shadow” until 1961, was originally created for the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo in 1946. When taking the first drafts into consideration,...
Miles underground, in the Earth’s mantle, Obsidian rock and Wayne McGregor’s “Obsidian Tear” begins. Originally commissioned by the Royal Ballet and Boston Ballet, premiering at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, in 2016, it is now time for the volcano to erupt for its Australian premiere season at the State Theatre in Melbourne. Six years deep, all that heat and pressure, it has melted to form magma. Slowly rising from the cracks underground in the Earth’s crust, it collects in a holding chamber, but it can only do so for so long.
Smuin is an unusual company. It was founded by former San Francisco Ballet co-director Michael Smuin in 1994, about a decade after San Francisco Ballet’s board declined to name him the company’s next director. For its first fifteen years, the new eponymous troupe mainly danced Smuin’s over-the-top theatrical spectacles, like “Zorro!” and “Carmina Burana.” When Smuin died suddenly in 2007, his longtime muse Celia Fushille became artistic director. She has continued to feed the audience the hammier Smuin spectacles they love, but she has also considerably stretched the repertory with the addition of works by Trey McIntyre, Stanton Welch, and...
If you were to watch Leonardo Sandoval dance from just the ankles up, you might suppose he's skating. He travels so effortlessly across the stage, gently twisting and turning as though gliding on a sheet of ice and guided by the wind. But Sandoval's not an ice skater—he's a tap dancer. Guiding him through space is not a chilly winter breeze but an even, complex, syncopated sense of rhythm.
The 85th birthday of Philip Glass was feted to perfection amid the verdant rolling meadows at Kaatsbaan Cultural Park in New York State’s Hudson River Valley. Nature conspired in staging an awe-provoking event with the Catskill Mountains as majestic backdrop, surrounding trees as arcaded entranceway for the performers, and clouds arriving on cue to mute the sun’s intensity.
A close-up image of white cloth undulates gently on a large projection screen set upstage. In front of it, a cameraman sits behind a table, facing the audience. His lens is trained on the bundle of white cloth draped on an easy chair set immediately downstage, its back to the audience. Underneath the fabric, dancer Albert Silindokuhle IBOKWE Khoza is wrapped up like a mummified king.
This return of Miami City Ballet felt like lifting the curtain on a new, wide-open moment. Fifteen years have passed since MCB last visited Berkeley’s Cal Performances; ten years have passed since MCB founding artistic director Edward Villella stepped down. The world is now post-covid (sort of), and the dance world is post-leadership changes at its Balanchine bastion, New York City Ballet. And so, we Californians had a clean stage for seeing what Lourdes Lopez has done with Miami’s Balanchine legacy over her decade of helming the 52-member troupe. What a refreshing view it was.
“Do you feel you’ve changed as an artist?” Peter Boal, the artistic director of Pacific Northwest Ballet asked the choreographer Alexei Ratmansky at a pre-performance talk here in Seattle recently. The two men had been discussing Russia’s brutal invasion of Ukraine, the country in which Ratmansky spent his early years, and where his parents still live. Ratmansky hesitated, then responded, “I’m definitely changed as a person.” Earlier he had said that he had never considered himself a political artist. Asked what that phrase, political artist, meant to him, he demurred. “I’m not sure yet.”
A three-quarter-mile stroll through grounds once devoted to horses led audience members, toting lawn chairs and picnic fare, to a broad meadow set with an outdoor stage, gleaming grand piano perched atop, purple shades of the Catskill range visible in the distance. The late summer day could not have been more perfect for the opening of Kaatsbaan Cultural Park’s Fall Festival 2022 in Tivoli, NY, where “The Glass Etudes at Kaatsbaan Celebrating Philip Glass’s 85th Birthday” was performed by five piano artists and five sets of choreographers and dancers as the sun set over an idyllic Hudson Valley.
The aesthetic is clear: a laboratory, all clean, ergonomic surfaces and clinical shiny spaces. Like any future focusing corporation, this is full of smiley, benign worker ants in preppy, GAP like workwear. But this is no prosaic company—this is Nu Life, run by the sinister, megolamaniacal Dr Coppelius. Prototypes of a new doll litter the workspace: arms, heads and swipable screens, where a sex doll—very reminiscent of cinematic babes a la Metropolis, The Fifth Element or Akira are being produced, en masse. Welcome to a clone for the dystopian tomorrow we've been warned about.
Australasian Dance Collective revived their sold-out production of “Aftermath” for Brisbane Festival—the city’s annual multi-arts festival that runs for the month of September. Created by Amy Hollingsworth and Jack Lister, the production was a collaboration performed by the company to the score composed by vocalist and songwriter Danny Harley of the Kite String Tangle. One part electric-synth concert, two parts sensory exploration, “Aftermath” hooked the audience from the first explosion of light and didn’t let go until it had said all it needed to say.
Watching Matthew Bourne's reworked version of the “star-cross'd lovers,” I was briefly reminded of Veronica, played by Winona Ryder, in the dark 1988 comedy by Daniel Waters and Michael Lehmann, Heathers, and her line, “my teen angst bullshit has a body count.” Yes, this is the darker side of Bourne's repertoire,...
Beneath blue California skies, manicured trees, and the occasional hum of an overhead airplane, Tamara Rojo took the Frost Amphitheater stage at Stanford University to introduce herself as the new artistic director of San Francisco Ballet.
After a week of the well-balanced meal that is “Jewels”—the nutritive, potentially tedious, leafy greens of “Emeralds,” the gamy, carnivorous “Rubies,” and the decadent, shiny white mountains of meringue in “Diamonds”—the New York City Ballet continued its 75th Anniversary All-Balanchine Fall Season with rather more dyspeptic fare.