The annual New Zealand School of Dance Performance Season is a wonderful chance for a stock-take of the state of our upcoming pool of talent. These dancers go on to join professional dance companies both in Aotearoa and internationally, continuing a proud legacy of excellence.

The Classical Program: From Romanticism to Modernity

This year’s classical program features four distinct works, spanning from the Romantic ballet era to the 21st century. The repertoire includes a mix of short ballets and excerpts that highlight the depth and versatility of the students.

La Sylphide: Honouring the Bournonville Tradition

First up are excerpts from Act II of La Syphide. This ballet demonstrates the best of the Bournonville style with light, buoyant jumps for both men and women, and fast intricate footwork with an elegant ease in the upper body.

The enduring influence of Bournonville in New Zealand dance can be traced back to Poul Gnatt, the first director of the New Zealand Ballet, who trained at the esteemed Royal Danish Ballet school.

In a role that demands delicacy, buoyancy, and absolute control, Kaiserin Darongsuwanwas is in her element as The Sylph. Despite the absence of a physical set, she conjured up images of the forest, waterfall and butterflies through her joyful performance.

Her partner, Hui Ho Yin, shines as James—light and playful, his jumps soar and his impeccable and rapid batterie is fast enough to whip up a Pavlova.

These beautifully matched dancers are complemented by Eleanor Bond’s expansive performance as the Queen Sylph with a rousing finale from the Lead Sylphs and Corps.

A good thing the excerpt ends before tragedy ensues for the young couple!

Curious Alchemy: Embracing Contemporary Expression

Next up is Curious Alchemy by Loughlan Prior. Shifting to a more contemporary style, this series of interplays between the two couples brings lightness and cheek throughout.

Janelle Chua, Izzy Hout, Daniel McLaughlin and Shanwen Tan bring palpable joy to their performance, delighting the audience with their jubilant energy.

Façade: A Moving Duet Set to Barber’s Adagio

Last before the break is Façade by Jeffery Tan, set to the divinely painful ‘Adagio for Strings’ by Samuel Barber. This powerful composition has been used in numerous films and ballets, including the penultimate scene in Platoon and even more hauntingly in Douglas Wright’s Now is the Hour. Experiencing that show in 1988 changed my world and with it the landscape of contemporary dance in New Zealand.

No pressure Jeffery, I think, as the opening strings play.

What follows is a beautifully intimate and moving duet between two incredibly mature beyond their years dancers in Liezl Herrera and Daniel McLaughlin. It’s easy to forget they are still just young dancers, the strength, fluidity, and grace they show belie their ages. Beautiful images which will endure.

Esquisses: Showcasing Versatility and Unity

The program concludes with Esquisses by Christopher Hampson, providing students a platform to display their skills in a variety of solos, pas de deux, quatre, and six.

Hui Ho Yin’s Adage showed his remarkable versatility, shifting from the leaps of James earlier in the evening we now see softer, pliable movements, stretched to perfection.

The boys shine in the pas de trois with Shanwen Tan, simply levitating above the stage – outstanding! Not to be overshadowed, Alice Thorogood and Ava Boeschenstein deliver sparkling and sultry solos.

The partnering in the duets and pas de six is of an impressive standard, technically tight and the close bonds between the dancers evident in their faces and joy to be dancing together.

Congratulations to the staff of New Zealand School of Dance for preparing a fine performance, especially to esteemed graduates and current tutors Robert Mills, Nadine Tyson and Turid Revfeim for their outstanding staging of these works.

Bravo to the graduates, off into the wild world they go – their time at the school over. Where their dance careers take them is dependent on their ability to seize the opportunities presented to them, be nimble, back themselves and be brave.

And if they should find themselves on a train listening to Bob Marley’s ‘No Woman No Cry’ after another unsuccessful audition – remember your time will come.

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Contemporary Program  

What caught my attention in particular this evening was the creative, clever direction of multiple bodies in place and time. The pathways taken, the shapes fluidly crafted and then collapsed and released, is evidence of the choreographers’ skill, vision and understanding of how to effectively manipulate bodies in space and time.

Riley Fitzgerald’s work, ‘You Cannot Make a Deal with a Tiger’ with music by Dawson Manzel begins the evening. A room is represented by a square lit shape on the floor. Slow considered entrances, tracing and marking, delineating the space the dancers are allowed within. Clasped faces carefully kept within hands, signifying how precious we all are. The pace is slow and steady, slightly foreboding.

The five dancers interchange between duos and trios, changing pace and energy and disclosing fine rhythmic unison. Repetitive action that builds tension displays tight, well-rehearsed unity. Frenzied action builds using changes of directions and ceaseless movement, always keeping within the realms of the delineated lit room. The energy is high and the persistence of action continuous, possibly displaying perseverance and navigating challenges. The piece ends with the dancers’ breath, heaving, exhausted. Slowly they exit the room reflectively displaying a sense of achievement and perseverance to continue.

‘God is in the Room’, choreographed by Tristan Carter with music by Dylan Tedaldi, is a piece for nine dancers who arrive into view, brightly clad with cheesy, smiling faces, dancing through the space to gentle operatic music. It’s a quirky piece to begin with and we see large groups of supported movement which could represent boats on a pulsating ocean. There’s a blackout, the music changes and the sidelight dynamically focuses our attention to a more sinister mood. Well timed and carefully executed lifts and some seamless standing to floor transitions demonstrate the plucky dancers’ skills as they circle, pulse and spin through the space.

The third section is brighter with hip-hop variations and some wonderful isolations of body parts. There’s a lot of upstage to downstage ensemble work, travelling the diagonal to allow all dancers to fit in the space and move to their capacity. This piece celebrates movement and the joy of moving, hinting at the struggles we all endure at times, while ultimately rising up. 

One of my favourite pieces for the evening, ‘Cry Babies Never Pelu’, thoughtfully and cleverly choreographed by ‘Isope Akau’ola, highlights the concepts of endurance. Perseverance is greatness; to pick ourselves up when life offers struggles, showing love and compassion for others.

It begins in a funeral-like mode: dancers dressed in dark boiler suits hugging then moving away into small huddles and larger groups showing a sense of community, togetherness and comfort.

The ensemble collectively breathes which initiates movement, the dim sidelight creates shadows in the space and the piece progresses. Breath and vocal sounds, together with rhythmical percussion on the floor, help to ground the movement which is innate and earthy.

The darkly clad bodies are in contrast to the dancers’ faces, hands and feet and I enjoy watching these parts of their bodies, almost luminescent, as they slap the floor or hold each other’s hands and other body parts. The music in its three sections unites the movement and is particularly danceable with soul-connecting beats and undulating patterns. The clever, complex nature of this piece shows a sense of collective nurturing and the power of coming together to guide, to help, to support each other through obstacles and to find our way in life. It appears this is a common unifying theme in this evening’s program.

The first year students perform ‘Anatomy of Entanglement’, choreographed by Airu Matsuda. The program blurb is somewhat confusing so I watch with curiosity. The opening image reminds me of a spine, each vertebra stacked beside another. The dancers slowly and irregularly clamber over, each other changing places erratically; they shift the spinal column and then separate.

The grey tops and white trouser-clad dancers move in, through and around each other. The ‘squashed quartet’ centre stage is a fine example of moving within confined spaces. Rhythmic marching actions and pulsing beats focus our intentions to the bodies in the space, culminating in some excellent floor work and unison dance. The ending is powerful with each of the dancers lying on their stomachs spiralling slowly as the light faded.

The evening concludes with my other personal favourite, a dynamic and absorbing piece titled ‘The Space Between’, choreographed by Raewyn Hill.

Twenty six dancers in total and a fine example of Hill’s skill at moving dancers seamlessly through the space, working with different levels, speeds, directions and relationships. The music supports the floating, flowing, fluid movement – so much so I want to get up and join them!

The work begins with the dancers entering on the diagonal in an eclectic mix of costumes that give thought to utopian, nomadic travellers. The music by Eden Mulholland is a beautiful, pulsating, circular waltz that cascades and accumulates as the dancers enter and move through the space.

Many spiralling, snake-like formations weave patterns in and out like a sea of rippling fluidity. The movement complements the music beautifully and vice versa, allowing at times a sense of euphoria. The clever use of manipulating shapes and bodies in the space, continual spiralling, circling and lifting, turning and there too, supporting each other. The dancers know exactly where they need to be in space and time. Accumulative movement patterns and partial canons shape and gave form to the work.

The dynamic beauty of the bodies being thrown through the space and caught with sensitivity and safety is a highlight and dynamically beautiful. What a sense of joy and appreciation of moving together this piece is, folding and connecting with each other, displaying courage, vitality and strength.

This evening’s program was excellent. The dancers are well-trained, talented and committed.

I leave with a real sense of hope that dance is richly part of our society and that these young people have a secure future, knowing that dance feeds their souls and grounds their communities.

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Drawing on the knowledge and expertise not only from their regular tutors, the student dancers deliciously devour fresh flavours from a great array of alumni and guest choreographers. Four pieces are presented in this Classical Programme. What a treat for the performers and their audience!

The programme opens with ‘Divertissement’ from La Sylphide Act 11 with choreography from August Bournonville, originally produced 12 March 1832 at Theatre de Academie De Musique, Paris.

The traditional long tutus shine. Courtesy of The Royal New Zealand Ballet and rejuvenated tirelessly by Costumier Maria McCathy and her team, they are truly delightful.

The story of La Sylphide epitomizes the 19^th Century Romantic ideal. With ever-present lyricism, the corps de ballet shows a mature approach when, poetically, women were meant to be more myth than real. I am delighted to see that the often edited traditional mime sequences are omnipresent.

Kaiserin Darongsuwan as The Sylph a magical creature, tantalizes and whimsically entices James, a young Scottish farmer bedecked in a resplendent kilt. Her attention to detail in often fast footwork and pirouettes mesmerises James, danced by Hui Ho Yin. He is truly captivated, extolling his joy with great elevation in multiple entrechat six worthy of a consummate professional.

He gives everything that this role requires and many Sylphs wistfully watch on in picture-perfect grouping and elegantly held arabesque.

A change of pace and flavour with the next piece, Curious Alchemy, a transmutation of matter, creation and combination by Choreographer Loughlan Prior. This short work was commissioned by NZSD for presentation in Canada, at Assemblee Internationale 2017 in Toronto. Janelle Chua, Izzy Hoult, Daniel McLaughlin and Shanwen Tan give their all, showcasing speed and unison skills of a more contemporary neo-classical style.

Onto the standout, breathtaking showstopper of Façade, with Choreography, Costume and original Lighting design by Jeffrey Tan.

This is, in my opinion, an outstanding brilliant work of art. Façade had its World Premiere in 1999 for Singapore Dance Theatre (now Singapore Ballet) and how lucky are the performers and viewers to be given such a masterpiece to devour.

In Tan’s own words, “This is a dance that reveals our inner selves, the core of what we actually are and not the reflection in the mirror, without the protection and defensive layers that each of us hides behind.” Superbly performed by Ella Marshall and Lin Xi-Yuan, these young dancers need to be seen. Fabulous strong classical line, clean technique, superb timing and energetic athleticism happens along with an emotionally deep portrayal true to Tan’s words. So entranced am I, I stop breathing.

The Interval is welcome, giving the theatre-goers a few moments to digest their thoughts and feelings. I need time to collect myself!

And now the Finale. Esquisses commences with silhouetted sophistication, again with gorgeous costumes courtesy of the Royal New Zealand Ballet, refurbished by Alexandra McLeod. How good to see such collaboration between our two National prides? The entire ensemble presents well-rehearsed weaving shapes en masse; the sumptuous black velvet, chiffon, net and large sequined tutus are stunning onstage with the male dancers sleekly complementing.

Choreographer Christopher Hampson CBE with Costumes by Gary Harris, former Director Royal New Zealand Ballet, play upon a French theme. It originally premiered in 2002 for the English National Ballet School. A solo piano hauntingly provides an anchor to snippets of movement off Hampson’s sketch and thinking note pad.

Honing their desire, determination and dreams, the young dancers take to the stage for a rich performance season that showcases their talent.

A definite don’t miss. Enjoy! 

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This 2025 New Zealand School of Dance Performance Season Contemporary Programme offers a rich range of works, choreographed with loving attention by school alumni and danced with unrestricted commitment.

The programme begins with the guttural roar of an unnamed wild beast. A square of light serving as a cage to the invisible creature embraces the stage. This is ‘You Cannot Make a Deal with a Tiger’ choreographed by member of the Sydney Dance Company Riley Fitzgerald. As the square of light remains – crafted into the very mesh of the work, an expert choice by lighting designer Wendy Clease – the five dancers emerge. In the programme notes Fitzgerald writes that the work portrays “the darkness that lurks beneath”.

The work begins with the dancers attempting to placate this darkness, this hidden beast – dancer Aylish Marshall strokes it with terrified gentleness. Movements of everyday intimacy translate themselves across the dancers’ bodies, with flashes of a violent underface revealing itself in a frenzied jerk, a particularly didactic gesture of contact work. The audience waits for the climax as we witness these acts of love in the face of the apocalypse. Music comes as a welcome relief. The dancers’ resistance to the darkness becomes organised in the form of synchronised dance moves. The piercing athleticism slowly builds into a frenzy.

I am struck with the thought that the dancers would like to run away from this imagined terror but they cannot, and it is with this reckoning that they approach the ritualised steps. As quickly as the storm began, it is over. Marshall returns to stroking the square of light and we are left with the feeling that the dancers succeeded in outrunning it, whatever it was. But they are left with the chaos of the storm in their bodies, and it takes the lights to go out to allow a collective exhale; a release.

The second work of the program is ‘God is in the Room’ by member of the Hofesh Shecter Dance company Tristan Carter. The piece begins and in a flash, we fall down the rabbit hole into a kaleidoscopic world of vignettes, placed with emphatic ridicule to the opera Nimrod (Lux Aeterna) by VOCES8 . Expertly illustrated by the dancers, now many, these vignettes parody that which society holds dear: ballet shows, classical paintings, adverts and religious ceremonies. These vignettes are unmistakably engineered to elicit laughter, and that they do. The audience relaxes into the familiarity of being entertained.

It is like stepping into an old movie, down to the outdatedly appropriative rendition of Hula. Costumes, by designers Anne de Geus, Maria McCarthy and Alexandra McLeod, augment the chaoticism of pulling from the real world – corsets blend with gym clothes blend with summer dresses.

Suddenly, the lights go down. When they go up, modern dance announces itself with vehement pretension. We were expecting this to come. Billie Eilish-esque ‘Just Dance’ offers us streamlined gestures of video games and hip hop, merging into something darker. Darker, yes, but again, anticipated. Dancer Ali Mayes’ facial expressions stand out to me throughout the piece, granting energy and a place to reside for the oscillating drama of the choreography.  The dancing gets more frenetic, the wild of the recognisable reshaping and intensifying. The lights go off and on, the audience waiting in expectation for new iterations of the same idea – and we are not disappointed. After the piece finishes, I am left with the gift the dancers gave as they threw themselves unconditionally into performing this acerbic variety show.

‘Crybabies Never Pelu’ choreographed by New Zealand Dance Company member ‘Isope ‘Akau’ola “looks at endurance as an act of service, service as an act of endurance, and endurance being love,” as ‘Akau’ola writes in the program notes.

The piece opens with a funeral of sorts. Dressed in black jumpsuits, the dancers hold with gentle energy and emphatic kindness the spirit of dancer Maisy Bell, as Bell is made vulnerable by the tangles of an inner struggle. As the ceremony comes to an end, we see the dancers mingle as if participating in shared kai, their endurance seen in small but purposeful acts of love – a hand held, a gaze exchanged, a collective breath. Bell is helped into a jumpsuit and, by doing so, the dancers incorporate Bell into the unit – delivered from the danger of the I to the safety of the we. Dance in unison begins, in undulating but exacting grace. Golden light bathes acts of resilience, of defiance – push-ups, headstands, crawls and full body slaps on the floor.

I love the way the careful breathwork and the dedication to softness intertwine with the tender melodies of ‘Faikava Love Song’ and ‘Si’i Liliō’ (Kava Drinking Song), recorded by David Franshawe. A standout is the moment when the dancers are carried on each others’ shoulders like a parent will carry a child – so that they can have a break from walking, or so that they can see the world from newer, higher ground.

Quiet falls and the dancers chant tahi, rua, toru, wha as they slap the floor, as if measuring the steps they have taken in the right or wrong directions. This piece tells of how one event can have a ripple effect on a whole community, and I am so grateful for the hope and trust with which it declares the possibilities of collective healing.

A long line of dancers form a gently ambiguous caterpillar – which proceeds to fluctuate and fall in on itself. So begins the fourth piece of the evening, ‘Anatomy of Entanglement’, by Footnote New Zealand Dance member Airu Matsuda.

The caterpillar splices open, and the dancers begin to move in careful formations that bring to mind DNA chains. An anatomy of entanglement in society is formulated, in a post-apocalyptic age where every member has a role to play, but is inevitably swallowed into the whole. One member manages to break away momentarily; dancer Isabella O’Donnell moves warily and gracefully, embodying the specific energy of the piece. It is an energy that works, and as the beat drops, a symbiotic relationship is established between the music of Jesse Austin-Stewart and Elliot Vaughan, and Matsuda’s architectural choreography. The dancers in the middle of the stage form the beat of the music, striding downstage and adhering to a strict order of things. Those at the corners bring life to the sweeping majesty of the violins, simultaneously complementing and criticising the harshness of this constructed reality.

I love the costumes for this piece; unlike in the other works’ where the clothes are add-ons, the simple grey shirts and white pants just are. Languages and codes translate across the dancers’ bodies; in their movements, in the formations. ‘Anatomy of Entanglement’ posits the question: when we find ourselves living in the glorious technological future, why would anyone try to escape?

The final work is ‘The Space Between’, by artistic director of Co3 Contemporary Dance Australia, Raewyn Hill.

Dancers flow out of the upstage entrance, and flow, and flow, and flow; a deep sea reef of greens and purples and pinks rushing out to us with a fluidity and a strength. We are transported into a ballroom world of nineteenth-century partner dancing, loosened by the wildness of nature. Dancers move around the stage in pairs, performing grandiose balancés which will become a recurring motif. Deconstructed period costume and classical opera by Eden Mulholland tell us exactly how to see this piece. Virtuosic group lifts are performed, over and over again; until the audience comes to expect them with a certain resignation. A tug of war is fought over a human body, the music builds. The beat drops, the dancing becomes more rationalized, more efficient. The joy in dancer Millie Maden’s movement and face brings beauty and lightness to the choreography.

‘The Space Between’ is a massive work, performed by all the second and third year students. It is lovely to see their collective energies, and it is clear that they are giving their all in this emotional, sweeping work. However, the choreography means that sometimes the dancers, like the audience, are so fully submerged in the work that details and individual hard work are missed. Perhaps that is the point; an extolling of the collective as an all-engulfing phenomenon. But the erasure of the individual comes at a cost; and the work can seem long when the energy builds to construct much of the same.

Overall, with its incredible range of ideas and imaginations, and with the palpable talent of the NZSD dancers, Performance Season 2025 is not to be missed.

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