John Cranko's Romeo and Juliet
The Australian Ballet
Friday 24 April, 7.30pm
Sydney Opera House
The Australian Ballet’s opening night of John Cranko’s Romeo and Juliet at the Sydney Opera House was a reminder of why this remains one of the great 20th‑century story ballets, even if this night’s casting did not fully persuade in the central love story. It is an entertaining, moving work that gives dancers roles they can really sink their teeth into, which in turn gives audiences every reason to come back for new casts and fresh interpretations.
The company is smart to bring this R&J back after only four years, especially after the expense involved in reviving designs dormant for 19 years. It makes good economic sense and as Artistic Director David Hallberg says, “Seeing a new generation of artists step into these iconic roles is both a privilege and a powerful reminder of why this story continues to resonate.” I would happily see this tragedy biennially.
Why are we so keen to see tragedy in the first place? As Heather Bloom writes in her excellent program notes citing philosopher David Hume, “the more [audiences] are touched and affected, the more they are delighted with the spectacle.” That is certainly the bargain Romeo and Juliet offers. With Prokofiev’s score and Cranko’s choreography, it is hard not to be touched and affected. But on opening night I was, disappointingly, dry‑eyed.
Soloist Grace Carroll and Principal Artist Joseph Caley are both beautiful dancers in their own right, but their casting as lovers lacked chemistry. And if the titular lovers of this ballet lack chemistry, we are left just having to believe Prokofiev’s score.
Which is, of course, a highlight, and on opening night almost stole the show. The Opera Australia Orchestra under Jonathan Lo was superb. The purity and sustain of the clarinet line halfway through the overture caught my breath, and Lo’s timing, pacing and pauses, as in Act II Scene 3 with Jarryd Madden’s Tybalt, created an interplay between score and stage that gave the work real edge.
The strongest individual performance came from Marcus Morelli’s Mercutio. He has the superb musicality this role calls for. Cranko’s choreography here—with its flirtation, silliness, head wags and arm ripples riding on top of precise footwork—beautifully evokes Mercutio’s wit and levity in a way that feels truly Shakespearean, and Morelli delivered it with wickedness and humour.
Grace Carroll’s Juliet was beautifully danced, and Juliet is in many ways a perfect role for a young dancer to step up to. It gives a less experienced interpreter a taste of carrying a full‑length ballet without quite the same demands of endurance and strength that other principal ballerina roles require; the challenge here is believability. Carroll’s proportions and ease of movement make her ideal for this naturalistic style. She gave an intimate psychological performance, so contained at times I would have liked a mid‑shot. With a score this powerful, passion and energy need to vibrate well beyond the orchestra pit. No doubt Carroll will play with the volume of her projection given time and more performances—there was a buzz in the house sensing a new star in the making.
Joseph Caley’s Romeo, by contrast, never quite convinced. Romeo is a tricky balance in Cranko’s ballet, the role jumping so quickly from lovesick to cavorting, to wooing and back to fighting, that he can come across as a bit of an unsteady lad. Shakespeare’s Romeo, by contrast, is more consistently a romantic, even proto-existentialist. For me, Caley’s interpretation missed that deep inner throughline. With the opening of the third act, however, I felt a genuine and doomed lover beginning to emerge, and he partnered Carroll with great care throughout.
The supporting world around the principals was one of the production’s strengths. Jarryd Madden gave Tybalt great dramatic force and threat. His presence was felt every time he entered, making it clear that we were not kidding around anymore; the sword fights felt dangerous, and not in a polite stage‑combat way. His imposing height helped too. And on the topic of height, Jett Ramsay’s tall, handsome Paris almost made you wonder why Juliet was not more on board with his proposal.
Cameron Holmes’ Benvolio delighted the audience in the ballroom shenanigans as a foil to Mercutio. Our investment in Benvolio tends to consolidate in the Masks dance, where the tight gang of three is bonded through multiple immaculately timed and spaced double tours. When these are off, it is Benvolio who suffers most, because his character is built so strongly in allegiance to the other two. Opening night’s performance could have been tighter.
Gillian Revie must be mentioned as the Nurse. She is a such a strong character artist who here fully inhabits Shakespeare’s bustling warm Nurse, full of personality and a good dose of her own wit. The Australian Ballet corps were outstanding, the crowd scenes exciting and believable, as was the tension around every fight.
One of the evening’s highlights for me was the Dance of the Knights. It is an almost failsafe scene, here rendered even more striking thanks to Jon Buswell’s lighting intensifying the atmosphere. Add to that the power of the music, the costumes, the lines and formations, and the simplicity of the steps, and you have one of the most loved and most powerful scenes in all ballet; the Australian Ballet was spectacular here—cool, clean, linear.
The final verdict, then, is that this remains a magnificent ballet and a repertory cornerstone. If I had a very large budget, I would come again and again across the season to see all the casts.
-Emma Sandall