Together Live 2017

Sydney City Youth Ballet with the SYO Philharmonic. The Concourse, Chatswood, Sydney. September 23.

The room is always full of hope and desire when student performers take to the stage, particularly if they are dancers or classical musicians.

Some will have started as young as four or five and certainly by eight or nine. In their early teens they are upping the number of classes they take each week. If they survive the rigours of intense practice and the personal sacrifices required by these all-consuming arts, their late teens see them negotiating the transition from L-plates to a professional career.

Getting in front of an audience is part of the process, hence all those competitions and eisteddfods, but there’s nothing like a proper concert to get the juices flowing for the performers and for those out front. Who doesn’t like getting in on the ground floor of someone’s brilliant career?

Les Sylphides 5_Winkipop Media

Janae Kerr and Alexander Smith in Les Sylphides. Photo: Winkipop Media

Student dance concerts are almost always staged to the unyielding backdrop of recorded music for understandable economic reasons but the lack of living, breathing, energising music is felt. The inaugural collaboration between Sydney City Youth Ballet and the SYO Philharmonia – Sydney Youth Orchestras’ second-most senior orchestra – was therefore an occasion to cheer and with luck it won’t be a one-off.

The Together Live 2017 program was ambitious, featuring two substantial new works, two orchestral numbers and an appearance by guest artists from Queensland Ballet alongside three classical showcases.

Arranged at the back of the stage, the SYO Philharmonic opened with the third movement of Prokofiev’s Symphony No.1 in D Major “Classical”, with Wim Broeckx’s new work Classical Symphony, arranged to Prokofiev, following.

Broeckx made attractive use of a six-member corps of women, whose entrances, exits and graceful patterns formed an ever-changing backdrop to a series of solos and pas de deux for leading men and women. Alexander Smith, 17, formerly with Sydney’s Tanya Pearson Academy and currently studying in Stuttgart, was a little tested by the fast tempo set by conductor Brian Buggy but showed swift, clean beaten steps.

The other premiere was a two-part contemporary piece by Adam Blanch that took the not-unfamiliar theme of environmental degradation and a collapsing society. An atmosphere of unease was well sustained by the choice of music. Blanch used an electronic score by Seymour Milton for part one, Redemption, following with Peter Sculthorpe’s Earth Cry for the second part, The Sky is Falling, in which the SYO Philharmonic had a big success. After a beginning that was perhaps a little too literal in its depiction of isolation, a large group prowled, gathered, dissipated and reformed, each member ferociously committed to the work.

In between those two works there was the chance to see 18-year-old Cameron Holmes tackle the Le Corsaire pas de deux with apparently serene and absolutely justified confidence. Not once but twice he threw in a clean, high-flying 540, that highly acrobatic aerial move borrowed from martial arts that all the men have co-opted these days, or at least those who appear in splashy party pieces such as this. His partner, Audrey Freeman, had poise and maturity well beyond her years. She is only 14 but also emanated sophisticated mystery in Redemption, as did Aaron Matheson.

Le Corsaire 8_Winkpop Media (2)

Cameron Holmes in Le Corsaire. Photo: Winkipop Media

In the Les Sylphides pas de deux Janae Kerr, 16, captured the poetic perfume of Mikhail Fokine’s choreography, seen in floaty balances and a melting backbend over her partner Smith’s shoulder.

The glamour quotient was sky-high in the grand pas deux from The Nutcracker in Ben Stevenson’s version, danced by Queensland Ballet and here performed by QB’s Mia Heathcote and Joel Woellner. I’ve seen Stevenson’s production several times in Brisbane but hadn’t registered just how sensual the woman’s choreography is. Heathcote looked divine, luxuriously swaying her spine and curving her neck this way without losing a sense of classical style. Woellner is a strong, fine dancer who at this matinee wasn’t entirely on form. As always he partnered well.

SCYB artistic director Lucinda Dunn suggested in her program note that Together Live 2017 might be only the beginning of the partnership with the SYO. Certainly the name hints at future collaborations and they’d be most welcome.

SYCB is associated with Tanya Pearson Classical Coaching Academy and the acadamy’s general manager, Nicole Sharp, says she and Dunn had long discussed wanting SYCB to perform with an orchestra. Money, as always, was the issue.

The situation changed when a student’s grandfather dropped by Sharp’s office to have a chat. It was Brian Buggy, who has conducted the SYO Philharmonic since 2007. After much discussion with Buggy and SYO chief executive Yarmila Alfonzetti about music and repertoire, the deal was done.

The SYO Philharmonic – a full symphony orchestra with members ranging in age from 12 to 24 – gave a fearless reading of the Prelude of Act II of Wagner’s Lohengrin, which gives the whole orchestra a bracing workout in about three speedy minutes. The brass and winds were particularly effective – the brass terrific in the Sculthorpe too – but there were strong contributions from all sections.

La Sylphide

The Australian Ballet, Sydney Opera House, November 7

WHAT to do about a ballet as dreamily brief as La Sylphide? In the middle of this year West Australian Ballet took the minimalist approach and added nothing to fill out the evening. Over the years the Australian Ballet has taken several paths.

In 1996, under Maina Gielgud’s directorship (and in her final year at the AB), I saw Bournonville’s La Sylphide (1836) in Brisbane in July paired with the premiere of Stanton’s Welch’s Red Earth. Later in the year, in Sydney, La Sylphide shared the bill with Jiri Kylian’s Stepping Stones (1991). Both were a “something old, something new” combination that may appear to be, as Gielgud wrote about the Kylian program, ‘’as extreme a contrast as you can get”. In fact a case can be made for a connection, not only between La Sylphide and Stepping Stones, but also Stepping Stones and Red Earth, and therefore La Sylphide, if that’s not too circuitous.

The Australian Ballet in La Sylphide. Photo: Jeff Busby

The Australian Ballet in La Sylphide. Photo: Jeff Busby

Kylian, who came to Australia to oversee the final rehearsals of the first AB season of Stepping Stones, wrote in a program note of attending a 1980 gathering of Aborigines in northern Australia and being “deeply impressed by the central role which dance seemed to play in their lives”. He asked an old man why this was so, and received this response: “Because my father taught me and because I must hand my dance on to my son.” Culture equals history.

Kylian then wrote: “There is a line in my work which has – since then – been reflecting on this view of existence.” He was interested in “the traces old civilisations have left, traditions which show the way from out of a living past”. Welch’s Red Earth was concerned with the struggles white settlers had in trying to impose themselves on the ancient soil of Australia, and was danced to Peter Sculthorpe’s Nourlangie. (I think I’m right in saying Red Earth hasn’t been revived by the AB, although Welch staged it for Houston Ballet, where he is artistic director, in 2007.) As Sculthorpe wrote in a program note, the music’s name comes from a sacred rock in Kakadu and while the piece is not intended to be descriptive, “its concern is with my feelings about this powerful and serene place”.

It can be profitable to think of La Sylphide in the light of such reflections as more than just a silly fairy story, gossamer-light though it may appear. While its history is the swiftest blink of an eye compared with that of Aboriginal dance, La Sylphide comes, nevertheless, from the earliest days of what we recognise as ballet performance. Furthermore, ballet shares the old Aboriginal man’s tradition of – and reverence for – transmitting stories and history from person to person and body to body.

As for spiritual significance, the two traditions are divided by a gulf as wide and as old as the Australian continent. Yet in La Sylphide, as in Swan Lake and Giselle, there is a deep yearning for something beyond the tangible; a transcendence of quotidian relationships and responsibilities. In those three ballets, however, the spirit world represents the elusive and unattainable rather than Sculthorpe’s serenity.

Colin Peasley as Madge in La Sylphide. Photo: Jeff Busby

Colin Peasley as Madge in La Sylphide. Photo: Jeff Busby

My cast list from the November 30, 1996, matinee performance of Stepping Stones, by the way, shows it was danced by Vicki Attard, Miranda Coney, Lynette Wills, Rachael Read, Geon van der Wyst, Damien Welch, Li Cunxin and Adam Marchant. Lucinda Dunn was the Sylph on that occasion. I saw three other performances in that Sydney season, and other casts of Stepping Stones included Lisa Bolte, Kirsty Martin, Robert Curran and David McAllister. What riches.

In 2005, under McAllister’s directorship, the AB went for stylistic unity, prefacing La Sylphide with two short Bournonville pieces – an excerpt from Le Conservatoire and the pas de deux from The Flower Festival in Genzano – and Walter Bourke’s fizzy, taxing1974 Grand Tarantella. The Grand Tarantella casts included current principals Leanne Stojmenov and Daniel Gaudiello (then coryphée and corp de ballet member respectively); and Lana Jones (then a coryphée) with Remi Wortmeyer, now a principal with Dutch National Ballet. Good to see McAllister’s eye was nicely in.

Which is all a long way of getting to the current AB La Sylphide, in which the Romantic ballet is preceded by the wedding celebration from Petipa’s version of Paquita (1881), based on Joseph Mazilier’s 1846 original, in which Petipa himself once danced. Early Romantic ballet had given way to the grand classical style dominated by Petipa, but the bloodline is there.

Of these five approaches – one from WAB, four from the AB – my heart and my head are with the Stepping Stones solution. The connection was one of imagination rather than style, which is more interesting, I think – and I must also be honest and say Stepping Stones is an enduring favourite of mine.

Furthermore, on opening night last Thursday the AB didn’t really make a big case for the huge chunk of dance ripped from context that is Paquita. Given its essential meaninglessness, Paquita can work only as spectacle and illumination of the classical form with its array of principals, soloists, demi-soloists and corps.

Lana Jones was divine as leader of the pack, I’ll say that much. She presented a glowing image of the all-conquering ballerina, glamorous yet highly aware of her role as benefactress as she graciously inclined her head this way and that to acknowledge our presence. Her role was to be adored; ours was to adore. That was also the task of her cavalier, Kevin Jackson, who had his successes and shortcomings in the proceedings. Uncompromising purity of line and pinpoint accuracy were not always his to command, although his self-effacing demeanour and seamless partnering were attractive.

There was too much untidiness in the ranks for comfort and while the four solos were all attractively danced, only Ako Kondo in the third raised the spirits to the required level. Along with Jones she radiated the qualities of grandeur, composure, elegance, ease and sophistication that are the non-negotiable requirements if Paquita is to have any reason for being.

Ako Kondo in Paquita. Photo: Jeff Busby

Ako Kondo in Paquita. Photo: Jeff Busby

While Hugh Colman’s tutus are beyond delicious, Paquita otherwise has an unappealingly basic look. There are two chandeliers, which are fine; a backdrop of little points of light in a dark cloth, which is OK; and nothing else other than black tabs at the side of the stage. Talk about dreary.

To end on a happy note, La Sylphide is exquisitely staged and on opening night conductor Paul Murphy, a guest from Birmingham Royal Ballet, shaped the Lovenskjold score superbly, particularly in the overture. The Australian Opera and Ballet Orchestra did honour (mostly) to this uncomplicated but charming and effective music.

Gielgud used to say the AB “always had an instinctive understanding” of La Sylphide and under McAllister – who was invited to join the AB by Gielgud and whose career was shaped by her – that understanding continues. The airy delicacy of the upper body, crisp batterie, the upward trajectory in leaps, precision of mime, the softest of landings – all were present and correct.

Daniel Gaudiello as James in La Sylphide. Photo: Jeff Busby

Daniel Gaudiello as James in La Sylphide. Photo: Jeff Busby

With her slightly otherworldly air, Madeleine Eastoe is a natural for the Sylph. Daniel Gaudiello – and how wonderful it is to see him getting more opening nights – has matured greatly as an actor and on opening night gave James a credibly dark hue. Andrew Wright (Gurn) soared in his solo and also created a well-shaded character.

It was a joy to see Colin Peasley back on stage. A founding AB member, he retired formally last year during the company’s 50th anniversary celebrations – such a nice round number, he said of his half-century – but of course we hadn’t seen the last of him, nor should we.

Peasley is a quintessential creature of the stage. His Madge is better than ever, perhaps more nuanced than in the past and delivered with the wisdom of ages.

La Sylphide ends at the Sydney Opera House on November 25.