Today’s productions of Coppélia are based on a ballet first performed in 1870, inspired by the Gothic stories of German writer E.T.A. Hoffmann. Queensland Ballet’s version was first created and choreographed 10 years ago by their Assistant Artistic Director, Greg Horsman, in a co-production with West Australian Ballet.
The basic story and characters remain: the reclusive older man Dr Coppélius, who has made a lifelike female doll called Coppélia; Swanilda and Franz, a young village couple in love; and their fellow villagers. Franz becomes obsessed with the beautiful Coppélia after seeing her from a distance, and Swanilda is justly annoyed. They discover eventually that Coppélia is only a doll, and everything ends happily with reconciliation all round.
Horsman has long experience of Coppélia as both an audience member and a dancer in different productions. When creating his own version, he wanted to set it in a place and time relating more closely to Australian audiences, rather than the traditional Central European village in the distant past. Keeping some of the Central European flavour, he chose late 19th century Hahndorf in South Australia, a town founded by Lutheran migrants fleeing religious persecution in Prussia.
The setting and context of the production work perfectly, the concept brilliantly realised in the sets and lighting designed by Hugh Colman and Jon Buswell, respectively. The light is clear, as in South Australia, fading to soft dusk and starry night. The set and backdrop include many iconic Australian sights: the colonial village with its general store (complete with verandah and corrugated iron roof), the pub and the small stone church; silhouetted eucalyptus trees, a date palm, a windmill, and water tanks on a high tankstand.
The prologue gives Dr Coppélius, and the village, a back story — something missing from many traditional productions. He is one of the migrants, whose young daughter dies on the voyage to Australia, and whose grief transforms him into a reclusive misanthrope, trying to reanimate his daughter by building a lifelike doll.
The prologue incorporates an animated montage of striking, Expressionist-style black and white illustrations of migrants on the voyage and photographs of early European settlers, showing the hardships they endured (illustrations are by S.M. Olive, and the animation produced by PixelFrame, directed by Lucas Thyer). The prologue establishes a more serious element within this comedic ballet.
Laura Tosar was a funny, spirited and charming Swanilda, precisely executing intricate footwork, leaping buoyantly and balancing securely. Her characterisation was spot-on and perfectly integrated with the movement. She had Franz’s measure. In a very funny, but also sinister scene, when she and Franz were trapped in the doctor’s workshop/laboratory, she was more than a match for Dr Coppélius.
As Franz, Alexander Idaszak portrayed an engaging larrikin. He and Tosar sparked off each other, raising many laughs. Swanilda is more of a focus for the ballet, but Idaszak had his moments to shine as well, leaping with abandon, and partnering strongly.
Sophie Zoricic, as Swanilda’s best friend Mary, and her boyfriend Henry, played by Edison Manuel, were endearing supporting characters, as were Swanilda’s other friends (played by Chiara Gonzalez, Alisa Pukkinen, Bronte Kielly-Coleman, Brooke Ray and Leisel Rose).
The part of Dr Coppélius is prominent in this version of the ballet, although very little dancing is involved. D'Arcy Brazier transforms himself into this tragic and brooding older man, who is redeemed and welcomed back into society in the end.
Praise is due to the other supporting dancers too, all playing individual characters in the village. The football players were particularly high-spirited, amusingly demonstrating highlights of their winning game.
The costumes, designed by Noelene Hill, are based on late 19th century German, English and Scottish styles, including long skirts for the older female characters, full shorter skirts for the younger women, and some distinctive elements of national dress. The many colours are muted, like old tinted photographs, but the effect is of lightness. Coppélia’s costume, like that of a music-box doll, is a sugary pink. The old-style football uniforms are black and white — the real colours of the Hahndorf Magpies.
Queensland Ballet’s Music Director Nigel Gaynor arranged and conducted the music by Léo Delibes (some from the ballet La Source). It is buoyant, tuneful, sometimes lyrical, and was infused with energy by the wonderful musicians of the Queensland Symphony Orchestra. Folkloric inspirations include the Polish mazurka, Hungarian csárdás, and Scottish jig, to which the dancers enthusiastically responded.
Queensland Ballet’s Coppélia is a delight: funny, and charming without being schmaltzy. This was the first occasion for a long time that I felt pure enjoyment while watching a ballet. All the elements — dance, sets, costumes, lighting and music — combined to uplift and entertain. The dancers were very at home with this production, and appeared to be enjoying themselves greatly.
