Bespoke, Queensland Ballet

Brisbane Powerhouse, November 9.

This year’s Bespoke triple bill could hardly be more diverse. It starts with neo-classicism and finishes with emotions, memories and personalities to the fore. In between the two is a work that insists dancers and audiences go well beyond their comfort zone and deliberately defies easy analysis.

That work in the centre of the program, Lucy Guerin’s pointNONpoint, could also perhaps be described as being central to Bespoke’s mission. Each year (this is the third iteration of Bespoke) Queensland Ballet leaves Queensland Performing Arts Centre and heads to Brisbane’s home of contemporary culture, the Powerhouse.

There’s a clue right there about the intent. We are not in tutu-land any more. Boundaries will be stretched. Maybe. This year only Guerin’s piece really extends performers and observers. It’s also the most interesting by far.

QB Artists_The Apearance of Colour Loughlan Prior_Photography David Kelly (2)

Queensland Ballet in Loughlan Prior’s The Appearance of Colour. Photo: David Kelly

Loughlan Prior’s opener, The Appearance of Colour (it takes its name from its music of the same name by John Metcalfe), is a smart-looking work impelled by the forces of changing colours and patterns in light. Prior was inspired by the change from black and white to colour of television transmissions and the idea is translated elegantly into animations projected on to the floor. Prior also has the cast of 12 make patterns in the air with small cubes glowing with colour, which is fun, and the group of mostly Young Artists looks polished, if rather anonymous.

I do however wish that choreographers would leave off having people run around the space for no apparent reason (Prior is far from being alone in this). Ultimately The Appearance of Colour is super sleek but fails to quicken the pulse.

Amy Hollingsworth, formerly with QB but now artistic director of Expressions Dance Company, clearly has huge affection for the dancers she once worked with so closely. From Within celebrates what Hollingsworth calls “gloriously messy human selves”. In truth the structure is a bit messy itself as duos, small groups and the full complement of 12 interacts energetically in a variety of moods. It’s all thoroughly engaging though, with a wonderful section featuring company artist Vanessa Morelli, whose glamour is matched by her apparent bonelessness; a bracing duo for Jack Lister and Rian Thompson; and the always eye-catching Lucy Green in everything she did.

QB Company Artists Jack Lister and Rian Thompson_From Within Amy Hollingsworth_Photography David Kelly

Jack Lister and Rian Thompson in Amy Hollingsworth’s From Within. Photo: David Kelly

The music includes bits of Lennon and McCartney’s Blackbird, Joby Talbot’s String Quartetand Björk’s It’s Oh So Quiet, all great choices individually but the mix contributed to the slight bagginess of the piece.

Guerin’s pointNONpoint challenges the usual idea of focus, in which an audience expects the eye to be directed in certain ways and for recognisable patterns to emerge. She starts with a solo performer, Sophie Zoricic, and builds to a group of 23, all dressed alike in short translucent tops. Some have bare feet while others wear pointe shoes, including a few of the men. There are occasional visual references to ballet vocabulary but no hierarchy and those pointe shoes are wielded more like hammers than aids to transcendence.

Dancers sometimes echo one another or move in unison but in the main follow their own interior paths to the electronic sounds of Scanner and dense, mysterious, numinous textures of Gyorgy Ligeti. Sections of his Requiem and Lux Aeterna, the latter used in the soundtrack of 2001: A Space Odyssey, greatly add to the otherworldliness of pointNONpoint. There is the suggestion of a blasted, apocalyptic environment as dancers sometimes lie and crawl, huddle together and then splinter, or are every now and again almost obliterated by a challenging red light darkening the stage. Not to mention the reddened fingers. There are touches of humanity – held hands here, a waltz step there – but Guerin’s work is not a pretty one. It does, however, have its own challenging beauty.

QB Company Aritst Isabella Swietlicki_poinNONpoint Lucy Guerin_Photography David Kelly

Isabella Swietlicki (centre) in Lucy Guerin’s pointNONpoint. Photo: David Kelly

The dancers test the space, their capabilities and each other with intense concentration, although with a shortage of the weightiness and strongly individual, personal allure contemporary dancers would fruitfully bring to the piece. It was, nevertheless, utterly absorbing to see them in such a knotty, strange, memorable work. Morelli and Green were the standouts, as they also were in the vastly different From Within after the second interval.

Ends November 16.

Lest We Forget, Queensland Ballet

Queensland Performing Arts Centre, July 29.

The Andrews Sisters style is all honey, sunshine and an irresistible life force, even when there’s a touch of wistfulness in the lyrics. No wonder the trio was so popular with US troops during World War II. The silken close harmonies, bouncy syncopations and light-on-the-feet melodies were made to please. They are optimism in a three-minute package.

Paul Taylor’s Company B uses nine of the sisters’ hits that show that in spades. The genius of Company B, though, is in the shadows the choreographer casts. While Brylcreemed young blades and flirty-skirted women whoop it up with infectious vitality there are men who fall, or are seen silhouetted on the periphery in martial poses. These ones melt in and out of the dance like ghosts while around them couples dance as if there were no tomorrow, full of juice and hope and infectious high spirits. I have no idea whether Taylor, now the grand old man of American modern dance, was thinking about contemporary conflicts when he made Company B in 1991, but its premiere at Houston Ballet came shortly after the first Gulf War.

Expressions Dance Company

Laura Hidalgo in Paul Taylor’s Company B. Photo: David Kelly

A song such as There Will Never Be Another You takes on quite a different complexion in Taylor’s context and when at the end of the bravura Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy (of Company B) the soloist collapses to the floor, we think not only of goofily exaggerated exhaustion. This happens again and again, joy undercut by sorrow, until we are back at the beginning with a reprise of Bei Mir Bist du Schön. War never stops, nor do its consequences.

Company B closes Queensland Ballet’s commemorative Lest We Forget program on a strong note, even though the exhilarating mix of contemporary and social dance is delivered a little too carefully overall. Not everyone fully captures the scintillating swing of hips, jaunty shoulders and the effervescence that comes from within. On opening night principal Laura Hidalgo in Rum and Coca-Cola and soloist Camilo Ramos in Oh Johnny, Oh Johnny, Oh! show how it should be done and two less senior dancers – Vanessa Morelli in There Will Never Be Another You and Lima Kim always – were marvelously alert to the music.

Expressions Dance Company

Queensland Ballet in Natalie Weir’s We Who are Left. Photo: David Kelly

The other two works in the triple bill are new company commissions. Natalie Weir’s We Who are Left is perhaps a piece d’occasion rather than a stayer but her aim is true. The melancholy of young men at war and the women who grieve for them is affectingly expressed. The extensive filleting of Benjamin Britten’s 85-minute War Requiem to find not quite 30 minutes of music gives pause for thought but Weir is sensitive to its purpose. The gestures of love, loss and pain feel authentic and the five couples in the first cast did Weir proud, dancing with eloquent simplicity in David Walters’s gorgeous lighting. Principals Clare Morehen and Shane Weurthner were particularly fine in Weir’s delicate, bodies-not-quite-touching duet She Who Was Left.

Ma Cong’s In the Best Moments, which opens the evening, is dominated by a series of pas de deux that manage to be bland and overwrought all at once, with men lifting women in big, tricky manoeuvres that look effortful. The connection with its music, sections from Philip Glass’s score for the film The Hours, is primarily one of busyness. There are lots of notes, lots of steps.

Lest We Forget ends on August 6.