Playhouse, QPAC
October
The King Arthur story is complex, with many characters and sub-plots, which all vary from text to text. Nevertheless Queensland Ballet's Francois Klaus, obviously not shy of a challenge, has for the second time used the medium of dance to tell this legendary tale.
Comparing King Arthur and the Tales of Camelot with his earlier 2003 version, Excalibur - The Legend of King Arthur, gives some measure of the growth of the company, in size and resources, and of Klaus as a storyteller through the medium of dance. This King Arthur is more visually striking; the score, again a compilation of selected works by different composers played live by members of Queensland Symphony Orchestra, marries better thematically; and the story is more succinctly told.
The fundamental difference lies in the device used to propel the drama through its myriad twists and turns. Previously soprano Amy Cutler, as a kind of medieval bard, drove the narrative with song, which also often accompanied the movement. This time the mostly hidden choir, Exaudi Australis, adds a textual layer. However Klaus, undeterred by the rather rocky marriage of dance and spoken text in last year's Fonteyn Remembered, uses Dan Crestani as the omnipresent Merlin to tell the story.
This becomes the work's strength, but also a weakness. Crestani can both move and act (who will forget his Richard III for Expressions Dance Company), and although his stature and light voice conveys a Merlin more puckish than awesome, his ability to simultaneously move and deliver lines in character, while maintaining the rhythm of both, is formidable.
However, as Merlin he becomes a main player at risk of upstaging the dance on stage, in part because his commentary, written by Helen Howard, is the main deliverer of the story, particularly in the first act. The dance almost plays second fiddle, acting as a visual explanation of the preceding text. It begs the question: Is this dance or drama?
That said, this King Arthur has much going for it, in particular a stunning set and costume design (Bruce McKinven and Noelene Hill), brilliantly lit by David Walters. The stage, predominantly black and open to the wings, creates a mystical atmosphere of otherworldliness as the lighting cuts shafts through the smoky haze. Sweeping arches, which fly in and out, framing various colourful and evocative projections, denote different scenes. And unlike the pared-back contemporary design of the set, the costumes recognise the historical, providing much of the colour. It's a most effective balance.
On opening night the first scene of a flaming, battle-torn Britain was musically a little rough in the tympani and the corps was uneven. But the sections quickly pulled together. The priestess' dance to Debussy's Clair de Lune against the projection of a starry sky was particularly beautiful.
King Arthur depends greatly on the dancers' dramatic ability, as a group and individually. Keian Langdon was commanding as Arthur and Rachael Walsh as Guinevere was most persuasive as the devoted wife torn by divided loyalties. Hao Bin, replacing an injured Christian Tátchev, made a sincere, if tentative Lancelot, with clean and light ballon. The love duet between Lancelot and Guinevere to a section of the Bruch Violin Concerto is the only pas de deux of length, and Walsh dominated.
Clare Morehen was convincing as Arthur's jealous half-sister, Morgane (a change of pace for her as she usually dances the ingénue), and Nathan Scicluna was in good form as their son Mordred.
Colour and movement abound in this King Arthur, and while there is little within the traditional construct of solos and pas de deux, the corps is very strong. The men are a dominating and athletic force, while the women have a particularly expressive and beautiful use of the arms.
This is not a ballet in the traditional sense, but it is a ripping yarn that is theatrically well told.
- DENISE RICHARDSON