• Benedicte Bemet and Brett Chynoweth in 'Everywhere we go'. Photo: Daniel Boud.
    Benedicte Bemet and Brett Chynoweth in 'Everywhere we go'. Photo: Daniel Boud.
  • Callum Linnane and Adam Elmes in 'Obsidian Tear'. Photo: Jeff Busby.
    Callum Linnane and Adam Elmes in 'Obsidian Tear'. Photo: Jeff Busby.
  • Samara Merrick and Adam Elmes in 'Annealing'. Photo: Daniel Boud.
    Samara Merrick and Adam Elmes in 'Annealing'. Photo: Daniel Boud.
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Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House
Reviewed November 10

As the lights dim over a buzzing auditorium, David Hallberg, Artistic Director of the Australian Ballet, takes to the stage. With characteristic zeal, he introduces "Instruments of Dance" — an eclectic triple bill helmed by three of the world’s leading choreographers, in collaboration with three living composers. He then gives the audience a simple instruction: to form an opinion on each of the showcased works. "Instruments of Dance" is precisely the performance to excite critical engagement; the marriage of dance and music is examined through three distinct lenses, each piece grasping at the zeitgeist with dauntless originality. 

The curtains rise on the gladiatorial fervour of Obsidian Tear, an all-male piece created in 2016 by acclaimed British choreographer Wayne McGregor. Entangled in a haunting score by Esa-Pekka Salonen, nine men attack the stage with savage intensity. The dancers shove, lift and embrace one another in an erotically charged plunge into the male psyche, toying with themes of power and sacrifice. Inspired by an article on the Islamic State throwing suspected gay men from rooftops, McGregor masters plot and pacing. Though the symbolism imbedded in the piece occasionally teeters on excessive, the choreographer’s gift for empathic storytelling is stirring.

Donning long red slacks amidst a company of men costumed in black, Adam Elmes, in the opening night cast, was the group’s misfit and violator, and the stunning centrepiece of Obsidian Tear. His natural fluidity balanced the piercing belligerence of fellow stand-out performers Adam Bull and Callum Linnane, injecting much-needed tenderness into a piece burning with virile tension. Reflecting on the hyper-masculinity of Obsidian Tear, I am conflicted as to whether the work challenges patriarchal male-dominance, or upholds it; while an undercurrent of desperate vulnerability swells beneath Obsidian Tear, the work is largely defined by conventional representations of masculinity. In the context of a society moving away from a strict gender binary, this violent, brawling depiction of the masculine feels somewhat restrictive.

If Obsidian Tear leans into traditional gender norms, Alice Topp's Annealing works to transcend them. Utilising a biochemistry term for heating metal to increase its malleability as a thematic springboard to communicate the strength inherent in vulnerability, Topp embraces non-binary expression. Male dancers swing long metallic skirts like carousels round their torsos as the dazzling Samara Merrick charges forth with penetrating precision. The company traverses the line between clean classicism and strikingly novel movement with characteristic virtuosity, accelerated forth by Bryony Marks’s glorious score. Jon Buswell’s set and lighting design illuminate Kat Chan’s glittering costumes, providing a stunning context for Topp's ambitious ideas.

Everywhere We Go stands out as the thrilling highlight of "Instruments of Dance". Beside two volcanic works burgeoning with thematic potency, this nine-part ballet by American choreographer Justin Peck presents the audience with a different flavour: the pure, dizzying joy of movement. Set to an effervescent score by indie singer-songwriter Sufjan Stevens, Everywhere We Go recalls marching bands, popping candy, and the technicolour musicals of Hollywood’s Golden Age. And yet a millennial sensibility drives this piece: a gleefully plotless whimsy gesturing toward the “sunny nihilism” of Peck’s generation.

On this night, Benedicte Bemet shone in the charming frothiness of Everywhere We Go, radiating a coquettish quality reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn’s Princess Ann in Roman Holiday. So too did Jill Ogai, whose impressive agility works to ground this buoyant piece. Peck’s penchant for classical shapes is underscored by witty, geometric set design by Karl Jensen.

Persevering toward Hallberg’s vision of exposing Australian audiences to fresh and challenging choreographic works, "Instruments of Dance" is a thought-provoking triple bill certain to satiate dance lovers.

 - TAYLOR VENTER

'Instruments of Dance' continues until November 26.

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