Strikingly modern and darkly psychological, John Inger’s Carmen delivers an exhilarating showcase for the sharply focused talents of The Australian Ballet.
Premiering in 2015, Inger’s Carmen connects back to 1967 one-act ballet Carmen Suite by choreographer Alberto Alonso. Composer Rodion Shchedrin arranged Bizet’s revered opera score for a deliberately truncated orchestra of strings and percussion.
Created for a tight ensemble cast, Inger’s Carmen brings dance squarely to the fore, staged with just a simple set of mobile three-sided pillars. Ever associated with Spain, and premiering at Compaňia Nacional de Danza Madrid, this Carmen nonetheless has a neutral and timeless setting. The breathlessly brisk storytelling is perfectly clear and yet can still be said to benefit from the audience’s existing knowledge of Carmen the opera.
A young child, known simply as Boy, observes the action, their youthful innocence gradually eroded by the observation of toxic male adult behaviour. The fabulous free spirit of Carmen sees her furtively slip away with officer Zúñiga, exuberantly cavort with rockstar Torero, and devilishly seduce arresting officer Don José. Recklessly spurned, José spirals into murderous jealousy and anger, leading to the ultimate tragedy.
In the more abstract second act, the prominence of an ominous figure in black expands, with the male and female corps donning the black suit and mask to create a veritable army of haunting spirits. Much as the sight of black figures rolling across the stage is a disconcerting effect, it feels overused here, taking the place of actual dance for the corps in act two.
Fine chains hang downstage in act two, creating a delicate prison-like vision, with the pathologically jealous Don José trapped with his torment. In a powerful sequence, Don José freezes just as he is about to strike Carmen, and the trio of José, Carmen, and the Boy dance a magical dream of the blissful life they are destined never to enjoy.
The choreographed love language of Carmen and Torero is one of playful passionate lust. With Torero, Carmen would clearly have been happy if not for the fevered pursuit from Don José. As in the opera, the story ends with the senselessly tragic murder of Carmen, which leaves Don José deservedly hollow and broken.
Considered modern at the time, Shchedrin’s score is further updated with additional music by Marc Álvarez. The accompaniment flips back and forth between live performance of the original music and recordings of the newly composed sections. Much as conductor Joel Bass does an excellent job in seamlessly blending the two, it must be noted that the use of pre-recorded music seems a waste of the renowned talents of Orchestra Victoria, if not an outright insult to the fine musicians who sit and wait for their next time to play.
The live components are a clear highlight of the music, with Bass expertly bringing out the fiery passion inherent in the score. Special mention of the fabulous contributions from a generous contingent of percussion players.
Costume designer David Delfin delivers sleek lines that bring out the sharp, crisp angles of Inger’s choreography. Carmen’s dress is, of course, blazing red, with modern short ruffled skirt. Supporting Inger’s vision for the dark undercurrents at play, Delfin creates black unisex suits with full mask for the ensemble in act two.
Memorably crafting her most significant lead role to date, principal artist Jill Ogai sets off sparks with no less than three leading men, also heading a corps of female dancers in thrillingly synchronised routines. Ogai flips effortlessly from sultry spitfire to playful doll, commanding audience attention in her every stage moment.
Further exemplifying his extraordinary range, Callum Linnane stars as Don José less than a week after his triumph as Nijinsky. Linnane takes José on a wild ride, beginning as an upright officer, melting into a willing lover, then descending into a driven stalker. Linnane particularly shines in the all too brief dream sequence in act two, when José imagines a far happier, less complicated life; Linnane’s whole physicality radiates a shimmering joy, the loss of which is keenly felt.
Marcus Morelli elevates the featured role of Torero, his thrilling, muscular performance electrifying the stage and leaving the audience wanting more.
Brett Chynoweth brings an authoritative military exactitude to Zúñiga, neatly adding a devilish sparkle to the man’s eye when his head is turned by Carmen.
In a carefully calibrated performance, Lilla Harvey transcends the relative simplicity of the role of Boy, palpably imbuing her performance with an affecting emotional arc.
Aficionados of pure classical style may wish to wait until October for Manon, but adventurous lovers of modern dance will surely thrill to the provocative allure of Carmen.
Carmen plays at Regent Theatre, Melbourne until 18 March 2025. For tickets, click here.
Carmen plays at Canberra Theatre Centre, 20-25 June 2025. For tickets, click here.
Man in Chair attended Carmen as a guest of a Melbourne Arts patron.
Photos: #1, #5 Kate Longley, #2, #3, #4, #6 Daniel Boud