 Photo: Branco Gaica |
Choreographed by Graeme Murphy, After Venice is a work that examines in dance the psychological motives of the main characters in Thomas Mann's novella, Death in Venice. Paul danced the role of a the young Polish boy, Tadzio. It was first performed by the Sydney Dance Company in 1986. |
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AS the lights faded on the last tragic moment of After Venice,
the first-night audience began whooping like a pack of dingoes.
Such is the Mercurio market. Or is it simply Adelaide's own
reaction to an elegantly erotic sauna scene where a lot of balletic
bottoms are aesthetically exposed?
The cat-calling, wolf-whistling audience response is the only incongruous element in yet another of the magnificent Graeme Murphy's choreographic coups with the Sydney Dance Company. As Thomas Mann's Death in Venice is a poignant tale of love and death, Murphy's After Venice is a touching vision of beauty and corruption. While Murphy asserts that After Venice ``is not a literal retelling of Mann's novella,'' nonethless it is all there. He has simply lifted the Venetian backdrop and replaced it with a web of symbolic images. To Mahler's and Messiaen's music, the familiar characters of the dying Aschenbach and the tantalising Tadzio weave their sad tale of loneliness and temptation. Garth Welch, one of the elders of Australian ballet, does us a great favor in dancing the role of Aschenbach. Not only does he capture the pathos and wistful lustiness of the dying writer amid the seaside holidaymakers, he provides a powerful and memorable presence of his own on stage. It is a rare treat to see a mature dancer, a graceful portly form, among the lithely athletic bodies of the young. Welch shows us the soul, discipline and elegance of a lifetime of classical dance. He does not upstage the younger dancers, it is just that his dramatic presence and character portrayal as Aschenbach is every bit as monumental and moving as was Dirk Bogarde's in Joseph Losey's film of Death in Venice. |
Paul Mercurio gives Tadzio a more aggressively taunting quality
than the original character. He emphasises all that is not innocent
in youth and beauty by being vain and corrupt - an interpretation
that serves well to emphasise the tragedy of his distant interaction
with Aschenbach.
Murphy further embellished the message by creating the incorporeal characters of Death, Love and Lust, which, although a little too much with us, are superbly performed. But there are no half-hearted or mediocre performances from members of the Sydney Dance Company. They execute Murphy's magnificent choreographic originality with dedicated precision and lots of fire and feeling - making After Venice a profound and beautiful experience. 21 April 1986 |
