HIGH UP IN THE TREES

Behindhand.

{Clement weather explorations. (Can transform one into a goose.)}


{Positions please. Returning to yesterday's post.}


{Because several years ago someone stole our sparrow tap head. Because wombats golden or otherwise are handsome. Because sometimes it is nice to treat yourself. Behold, one wombat garden tap head (superglued in place for safety).}

As is becoming tradition, a look back at the recent days before they are relegated to the blur of my memory’s archive banks. It is perhaps my way to slow things down, and note what has passed before springing to the next. Something of a momentary pause to catalogue the best bits, it is perhaps also reflective of my keenness to keep this hollowed nook alive. Since last I checked in, I have hugged an iceberg to my chest (at Dancehouse as part of Post Phase: The Summit is Blue, which I can’t wait to share with you when posted on Fjord Review alongside The Nutcracker), and more besides.


{'From card-carrying fan to Hawks history buff,' my Dad's in The Age (Thursday, 25th September, p. 12) talking all things Brown & Gold.}


{Lenni favours a Hawk.}


{Percy favours a Swan.}


{Patsy Cline and a bear on a Northern roof. 'A moot of starlings'. A 'Jackrabbit moon'. (The launch of Libby Hart's Wild, at Collected Works. Congratulations to you Libby.)}


{Seniors Perce and our neighbour's Tiny (Dancer) enjoy their early afternoon constitutional.}


{Strawberry milk, sweet eats, crisp crumbs, and soccer balls. We're all too busy hanging out and exploring to line up a good shot.}


{Olive and Lenni come out from their shared hiding spot to ensure the little humans have gone home. Percy, on the other hand, had a ball being (often accidentally) fed jammy biscuits and made the most of the minimal height difference.}


{Though it will be too warm for today's adventures, thank-you @pasadenamansions for my fantastical Rowan Knit Fairisle beauty. I love it.}


{Wanderer Above the Sea and Fog, beloved Anguish, Bosch, and Masaccio! There, a giant squid! And over there Diana looks over her shoulder. Congratulations Brenda Walsh on a wonderful exhibition, The Flood, (recently) at Red Gallery. (Louise stands before The Tempest II, oil on linen, 2014)}

From Libby Hart's, Wild, published by Pitt Street Poetry, an appetiserser hinted at in the above. From Part Two, Murmurations, 'A moot of starlings':

Their flight path is a loop of retellings.
They drop and lift, drop and lift,
multiplying in sum with every turn of the city
so fickle stronghold shifts to black blizzard,
to a braid of a twister, then bud and boom.

Each page of cloud, each script of wing is séance—
a staining of lavish dark. Ghostology of bird-smoke,
its incense rises to bolt of rolling wave.
The thrash and whip quickens.

Giardino degli Aranci, 2012

+ Prepare to migrate and lay claim to a paperback. You can purchase a copy of Libby's latest collection of poems that weave from the Norse god, Odin, to starlings for $25 (plus postage) online through Pitt Street Poetry.
+ From card-carrying Hawthorn fan to Hawks museum curator (Article in The Age, in full)
+ August Friedrich Albrecht Schenck, Anguish, c. 1878 (in the collection of the NGV)
+ Jean-Baptiste-Simeon Chardin + Gracia Haby & Louise Jennison + Mappa Mundi of Hereford (Up pops our collage for The World of Interiors, October issue, 2014)

+ There is still time to make the most of our FREE POSTAGE SEPTEMBER offer. Pop in the magic codeword 'Zarafa' when prompted.

Spring tumble.

{Tumbling lightly, tumbling fast (I), one of a pair of artists' books made especially for and exhibited as part of In Your Dreams (Counihan Gallery, 2014), which takes place in a royal château in the Île-de-France region of France, and is now in the collection of Monash University Library (Caulfield Campus). (The artists' book that is, not the Château de Versailles.)}

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Great paper giraffes!

Tumbling towards the end of September, there is just enough time for me to issue a friendly reminder to you about our FREE POSTAGE SALE on all orders through our online store to all destinations. Simply whisper the name 'Zarafa' when prompted and your greeting cards, zines, and other fancies will be shipped free of charge.

Quick sticks, Spring Whiskers, the hollyhocks are about to bloom!


{In hand, And Zarafa Kept Walking, a new greeting card design.}


{A little reminder to those near and far, we are offering FREE POSTAGE ALL SEPTEMBER LONG on all orders placed through our online store.}

+ Coming up on Fjord Review, I invite you to glide upon a swan with a golden collar across Rose Lake.
+ Write for Us: Fjord Review is currently calling for submissions.
+ Bimblebox 153 Birds: Calling for writers to contribute to a project about bird species at the Bimblebox Nature Refuge.
+ Hope to it. The October 2014 Book Arts Newsletter No 92 is ready for free download.
+ Almost there. A beautiful hand-knitted fairisle jumper by my Mum, @pasadenamansions.
+ Positions please. Returning to yesterday's post.
+ Tiny movement (I): And just like that, Petrouchka is inlaid into the handbound Solander box.
+ Tiny movement (II): A chameleon looses his negative space in order to become a piece of Monday's collage puzzle.

"It is this – " he tapped his egg-shaped head – "this, that functions!"

{Yes, that's me, signing a copy of my zine, A Catalogue of Bodies, for @David_Suchet, after the brilliance of The Last Confession. What a hoot! What a thrill!}


{Dear David Suchet fans and Agatha Christie crime-clubbers, a signed copy of my zine, A Catalogue of Bodies, I shall treasure.}

It went prr—prr—puff—piff—clitter—clatter—bom, burum—bom, burun—bom—in the wildest confusion, while the Mouse-King and mice squaked and screamed, and now and then the mighty voice of Nutracker was heard, as he gave the necessary order, and he was seen striding along through the battalions in the hottest fire.
(From E. T. A. Hoffman’s Nutcracker and Mouse-King, translated from the German of Hoffman by Mrs. St. Simon, with illustrations on wood, 1953, New York, p.43)

Thanks to The Australian Ballet, the week has been one filled with (my beloved) mice in regimental attire and a visit to the pages of E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Confectionville where characters sport “aprons braided with humming-bird’s feathers”. And putting my timber soldiers in polished attire back under the magical tree, it has also been a week that has taken me back to the charm of the The Comedy Theatre to see David Suchet in the glorious red robes of a Cardinal performing in The Last Confession.

Afterwards, to my great delight, I waited in the foyer in a snaking line of punters brimming with anticipation and clutching their programmes and favourite Agatha Christie tales. In my hands,  a copy of my (fan)zine A Catalogue of Bodies to give to David Suchet, and a second copy to have signed. When my turn came, I lost the ability of speech and bumbled a snatch of words, which is, I’ve concluded exactly as it should be when one crosses the briefest of paths with one’s heroes. I was terribly flattered that David Suchet asked me to sign his copy of my zine. Though the pen in my hand transformed itself into an unfamiliar form, I managed to scrawl on the page my first name, an exulted ‘enjoy!’ and a kiss for good measure. No ‘Best wishes', or ‘Dear’ in the address, just two short words and an ‘X’ in a corner threatening to tumble off the page.

How tame, how quiet my next week will seem without the Regent Rodent and the magical materialization of Poirot before my very eyes.

Mr. Satterthwaite looked cheered.
Suddenly an idea struck him. His jaw fell.
"My goodness," he cried, "I've only just realised it. That rascal, with his poisoned cocktail! Anyone might have drunk it. It might have been me."
"There is an even more terrible possibility that you have not considered," said Poirot.
"Eh?"
"It might have been ME," said Hercule Poirot.
(From Agatha Christie's Three Act Tragedy, Fontana Books, 1957, Great Britain, p.192)

{Harvested still from Cat Amoung the Pigeons, 2008, from the zine A Catalogue of Bodies, first and second edition}


{Harvested still from The Hollow, 2004, from the zine A Catalogue of Bodies, first and second edition}


{Harvested still from Curtain, 2013, from the zine A Catalogue of Bodies, second edition}


{Harvested still from The Big Four, 2013, from the zine A Catalogue of Bodies, second edition}

+ A few copies of A Catalogue of Bodies can still be found in our online store (and all September long, we are offering free postage when you use the code 'Zarafa' upon checkout)
+ I refuse to throw a slipper at the Rodent Regent
+ Golden Age Bohemian: Artuš Scheiner (50 Watts)
+ @ausballet, What is Beauty: "We asked our friends Gracia & Louise, wonderful artists and balletomanes, to tell us what beauty means to them"
+ What is Beauty, a collage of moving parts for The Australian Ballet to herald their 2015 season

(Post title plucked from Agatha Christie's Five Little Pigs)

The drafting process.

{Gracia Haby & Louise Jennison, 2014, collage for The World of Interiors}

Before one gets to the final edit, many drafts are done, and ideas flexed. In order to get to the above collage for Journal of a Literary Tour Guide in the October issue of The World of Interiors, we traversed the landscape below. Maps and Morris, "a suburban Tesco on the Old Kent Road", all details sourced and shoehorned in as we sought to depict a little of TS Eliot's "agony in stony places" alongside a barefoot pilgrimage. Plucked from paintings (chiefly held in the collection of the Louvre) and national costume books, you will find Dante Gabriel Rossetti's Study of Dante, for Dante's Dream, 1871; the architectural drawing of a well covering for Red House, 1859; an open copy of The Waste Land from 1922; The Works of Geoffrey Chaucer designed by W. Morris at The Doves Bindery, 1897; and a pilgrim on horseback from The Canterbury Tales.

(Incidentally, this post was drafted whilst taking a break from a written piece that has been proving an exercise in knot tying. Have since scrapped said draft, proclaimed so on Twitter, posted of tender process on Instagram, and taken brief leave of the piece, I will return to the task with new eyes soon. Just giving it time to come to its senses, and for the sentences to form proper lines. The drafting process is sometimes a slow one. Do with this background colour what you will.)














{The October issue of The World of Interiors features a collaborative collage of ours with loose reference to Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, TS Eliot's The Waste Land, and Henry II's pilgrimage of penitence in 1174, created to accompany a written piece by Henry Eliot about his literary walking tours, and these here are several of our working drafts. Here's to process!}

Drafts. A beautiful and necessary part of the process I.
Drafts. A beautiful and necessary part of the process II.
Drafts. A beautiful and necessary part of the process III.

What's that you said about process?
+ The January Sea
+ "A ziggurat of balls of porcelain clay to my left..."
+ From idea to publication (I)
+ From idea to publication (II)

Anticipation.

“The idea of waiting for something makes it more exciting,” remarked Warhol, and Winnie-the-Pooh, when thinking of eating honey, agreed. The state of being wrapped up in anticipation of something is splendid. And so, in anticipation of The Australian Ballet’s 2015 season reveal and a chance to revisit Peter Wright’s The Nutcracker, I give you two things, one new and one old.

Firstly, a collage of moving parts set to Scarlatti’s Keyboard Sonata in A Major, K.368/L.S.30/P.506 performed by Gerda Struhal. Ninety-five frames have been squeezed into 15 seconds, and within this moving lantern slide of sorts, paintings by Ingres and Gérard, patterns by William Morris, and illustrations from Walter Crane’s version of The Sleeping Beauty alongside assorted birds and botanical specimens. Created for instagram and in celebration of What is Beauty, you will see Marilyn Jones, Amber Scott, Leanne Stojmenov, Natasha Kusen, Andrew Killian, Lana Jones, Nana Gollner, Nora Kaye, and winged dancers from the Corp de Ballet performing the supernatural La Sylphide.

{What is Beauty, a collage of moving parts on vimeo and instagram by Gracia & Louise}

And secondly, a little book I made at seven-years-of-age inspired by The Nutcracker (sweet) Suite. The very first time I saw this ballet performed was Friday the 15^th of October 1982, at the Palais Theatre. It clearly left quite an impression. With a sword for a letter T, the ballet with its marvellous rodents is closely bound to my heart.

























“If you come at four in the afternoon, I'll begin to be happy by three.”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince, 1943

+ Life on other planets
+ Return to the '80, return to the '90s, nostalgia is a maze
+ Then and now
+ Concocted

+ A little reminder to those near and far, we are offering FREE POSTAGE ALL SEPTEMBER LONG on all orders through our online store. Simply enter the code 'Zarafa' upon checkout.

In summation, these early spring days.

{Happy Father's Day, Dad! XO (Photo from August 1976. Written below, the first time I said "Ta-ta".)}


{From Soaring Eagles to Contented Flâneurs, Saturday gets the big tick. Thank-you for all your good Birthday cheer. XO}


{Down the hatch! One Nutcracker Sweet Sugar Plum Fairy ("Sugar plum blueberries, bathed in lemon, dance on a light vanilla crème patissière") macaron from La Belle Miette.}


{There on the wall, our three collage works framed. (100 Cats opening, @offthekerb)}


{After last night's Melbourne Cinémathèque screening at ACMI of Jan Švankmajer's culinary experiments lunch today is going feel quite different. (Militant Surrealism: Jan Švankmajer Shorts Part II, 1969-1992, featuring A Quiet Week in the House (1969), Leonardo’s Diary (1972), Virile Games (1988), Darkness Light Darkness (1990) and Food (1992); and Little Otik (2000))}


{Wrapping orders received overnight for the morning's dash to the Post Office, with the added difficulty of a playful Lenni. (We are offering FREE SHIPPING all September long when you enter the code 'Zarafa' upon checkout. Thank-you.)}


{Sending David Suchet c/o The Comedy Theatre a little Poirot fanzine (A Catalogue of Bodies). Fingers crossed.}


{One closing, one pizza, one beer. The makings of one evening. (George Paton Gallery: Artist's Books (reprised), closing event, featuring five of our recent zines)}


{Stepping out of the shadows, something new. (And Zarafa Kept Walking, new greeting cards, September 2014)}


{Augustus Leopold Egg's mirror image painting, The Travelling Companions (1862), accompanies the sounds of Arvo Pärt's Spiegel im Spiegel ("Mirror in the mirror"). This is Tuesday, how it looks and sounds.}


{Peekaboo! The October issue of The World of Interiors features a collaborative collage of ours.}


{The October issue of The World of Interiors features a collaborative collage of ours with reference to Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, TS Eliot's The Waste Land, and Henry II's pilgrimage of penitence in 1174.}

Early spring in glorious blur, summed up in twelve instagram frames. From my 39th Birthday celebrated in a blissfully relaxed fashion (thank-you for the good cheer, the treats, and the jewels) to an airfreighted copy of the October issue of World of Interiors featuring Louise and my collaborative collage on the last page, it has been a sweet confection in every sense. Best of all, we’ve new work in mind, and new projects to undertake, and little can feel better than that.

And lest you are not on our mailing list or you missed our instagram trumpeting, stepping out of the shadows into glorious September a new greeting card featuring the handsome and obliging giraffe, Zarafa. To mark the occasion, we are offering FREE POSTAGE ALL SEPTEMBER on all orders through our online store.

Simply enter the code 'Zarafa' upon checkout. And thank-you for all your orders thus far.

+ Skates on! 100 Cats (supporting Ingrid's Haven, and featuring three of our collage works) is on until this Friday the 19th of September (Off the Kerb, 66B Johnston Street, Collingwood, 3066, Victoria).
+ "A domesticated animal which has never been reduced to servitude, a cat, the emblem of Independence, is sitting at Liberty's feet"
+ La Belle Miette's The Nutcracker Sweet collection of petit gateau macarons to mark the 2014 season of Peter Wright’s The Nutcracker are available every Thursday and Friday for the duration of the season, from 11:30am onwards, from their city stores only.
+ What is Beauty? in 15 seconds
+ "An obsession with food and eating — and with corresponding ideas of appetite, taste, consumption and ingestion/digestion — pervades so persistently and with such acute attention to detail in Jan Švankmajer’s filmmaking oeuvre that it comes to resemble a kind of absurdist, surreal, highly tactile (but not always appetising or palatable) cinematic cookbook." (Zoe Gross, Little Otik, Senses of Cinema)
+ A Catalogue of Bodies, second edition
+ Lucy Folk's different kind of edible
+ How spring feels. Oh yeah. (Hannah Höch, detail of Am Nil II (On the Nile II), 1940s, collage)
+ See: Arthur Conan Doyle's drawing from a whaling diary (1880)
+ Hear: Arvo Pärt's Spiegel im Spiegel

What is Beauty

In eight steps, beauty to Louise and me looks a little like this:


{One, What is Beauty collage (featuring The Australian Ballet's Lana Jones in Paquita, 2007, and Tatiana Riabouchinska, 1942)}


{Two, What is Beauty collage (featuring La Grande Odalisque by Ingres, 1814, and The Australian Ballet's Amber Scott)}


{Three, What is Beauty collage (featuring Nora Kaye and The Australian Ballet's Leanne Stojmenov in The Sleeping Beauty, 2009, within a lantern slide)}


{Four, What is Beauty collage (featuring Nana Gollner in Shadow of the Wind, and La Comtesse Regnault de Saint Jean d'Angély, 1798, by Baron François Gérard)}


{Five, What is Beauty collage (featuring Marilyn Jones as Odette in Swan Lake, 1968, and Nora Kaye, Gala Performance, 1941)}


{Six, What is Beauty collage (featuring The Australian Ballet's Natasha Kusen and Andrew Killian entwined in a William Morris pattern)}


{Seven, What is Beauty collage (featuring The Australian Ballet's Corps de Ballet performing La Sylphide, 2005, in a lantern slide)}


{Eight, What is Beauty collage (featuring The Sleeping Beauty, 1876, illustrated by Walter Crane, and The Australian Ballet's Amber Scott in George Balanchine's The Four Temperaments (and later re-drawn and imagined by my Mum))}

A suite of eight collages created especially for the The Australian Ballet's celebration of #whatisbeauty in the lead up to their 2015 season announcement.

For us, beauty can be found in nature, untamed or otherwise. Beauty is in the strength of a body, in movement or held still like a piece in a collage puzzle. At the meeting point between nature and a thing painstakingly constructed, beauty is a near undefinable balance.

And now it is over to you, dear friends. What is beauty to you?

Join in by creating an image or taking a photo of what beauty is to you, and share it with @ausballet on Instagram using the all important hashtag #whatisbeauty.

Inside the safe confines of a State Theatre like an Opium den, I choose to let the narcoleptic haze envelop me.

{Gracia Haby, In the borrowed costume of a Polovtsian warrior (Prince Igor c 1909–37), 2014, collage on ephemera, exhibited as part of In Your Dreams, Counihan Gallery (Prince Igor and friends in the Oriental wake of La Bayadère.)}

As promised, here is my response to La Bayadère, drawn up especially for Fjord Review and published recently. (Thanks Penelope.) Next stop, Peter Wright's The Nutcracker!

The Australian Ballet's La Bayadère

Choreography: Stanton Welch
Repetiteur: Louise Lester
Music: Ludwig Minkus, orchestrated by John Lanchbery
Costume and set design: Peter Farmer
Costumes and scenery courtesy of Houston Ballet
Lighting design: Francis Croese

Performances seen:
Saturday 30^th of August (4^th performance of Stanon Welch’s La Bayadère)
Tuesday 2^nd of September (6^th performance)

Stanton Welch's new production of La Bayadère, a glittering tale of betrayal and unrequited love, is akin to finding one’s self within an Indian miniature painting. Swirling shades of burnt coral, gold, dusty pink, turquoise, and an olive green tinged with yellow guide us down the Orientalist path to Mythic India in a romanticised period. The magician's optical illusion in play, nature is contrived by hand and presented as an ordered frame to a stage. The trompe l'oeil effect in motion to both trick the eye and delight sees a Rajah's palace appear before the eyes. And just as an Indian miniature seeks to emphasize mood (or bhava) through rich lyricism, when coupled with the melodies of Minkus in response to the exotic theme, La Bayadère brings to life a daydream of the past through an explosion of dance.

To understand the landscape one needs to remember that La Bayadère, originally choreographed by Marius Petipa for the Russian Imperial Ballet, was first performed in 1877. As Welch explains of the ballet, "during this time, the Middle East in particular and all of Asia was really this mysterious, fantastic place for the West. You have to view it as a Russian concept of that place, it's not in any way meant to be authentic to the country, it’s authentic to a Russian's version or dream of what that country may be."[i] But in order to attain secure footing in this fantasy-scape of Bengal tigers, spice-hued costumes, and slippers that curl upward at the toe, one needs to surrender to the brilliant spectacle as it unfolds, teases, sparks, and entrances. It is impossible not to be a little awe-struck when the house lights come on. It is, in fact, a little like smoking opium with Solor, our warrior lead, at the behest of the fakir, Kalum.

The chance to be transported to a place where Gods' leap, snakes slither, and saris swirl even in the ballet world does not come often enough. “In the 21^st century La Bayadère is something of a mischievous survivor, a sparkling showcase of classical technique in a wash of unabashed exoticism.”[ii] From the opening muted, jewel-like tones to the promised temptation of those twenty-four Shades in mesmerising procession in Act III, this, for me, is a ballet of allurement. Wrapped up in a filmy veil, through a haze of opium smoke, the Kingdom of the Shades offers a glimpse of Heaven. Welch's La Bayadère, created in 2010 for the Houston Ballet and now performed for the first time by the Australian Ballet*, has the additional enticement of more for the male dancers in the sped-up, amplified plot. There is Agni, the Fire God, with legs that whip as fast on stage as if actually licked by flames, and performed with such conviction and spark by Chengwu Guo. And there is Cristiano Martino's blue-painted Dream God, Garuda, who ensures our safe passage to Elysian bliss, and whom, as such, we cannot help but be grateful to.

This may be a work which features at its heart the Kingdom of Shades in slow, controlled and beautiful decent, but it also has plenty of crack, pop, and fire. With its simmering desire and vengeful deeds, this ballet is a little like being asked to hold a fire-cracker. The Gods amongst the mortals shimmer gold, silver, red, and blue, and they are as statuesque as they are magnificent. They provide Solor with the chance to reunite with his beloved temple dancer, Nikiya. They are the brilliant foil to the quiet trance of the Shades. Where the Shades seep under the skin, the Gods burst through, and it is the contrast between these two states that ensures allurement. A juxtaposition of loud with quiet, high drama with romanticism, bright colour with luminous white: all of these elements are held in perfect balance, much like the Shades themselves. “The procession of the Shades down the mountain, inspired by Gustave Doré’s illustrations of Dante’s Paradisio, is a hypnotic repetition of low arabesques and sweeping port de bras, a rigorous test of the corps de ballet’s stability and precision.”[iii] Against a darkened backdrop, this white and poetic orchestration alters time and holds me transfixed. It is haunting, this hereafter. It is the much-needed change of pace and feel that holds the whole ballet together. The twenty-four Shades and the three Shades soloists perform the near impossible with the required ethereal grace, their tutus reminiscent of flower petals gently bobbing. Both Madeleine Eastoe and Daniel Gaudiello (Saturday night’s performance), and Elisa Badenes and Daniel Camargo's** (Tuesday night’s performance) final pas de deux as the entranced lovers bound to one another in the serenity of Paradise, is beauty made manifest.

Throughout the ballet, if I brush aside the film of fabric from my eyes, the challenge the grueling choreography presents can be seen, but as this plays as something of a dream, I decide to leave this in the background. I momentarily note that this is a work in which impossibly toned abdomens are on display in costumes courtesy of the Houston Ballet. I consider the extraordinary control of the Shades who have to rely on their inner-ear balance over their visual system as they make their dark descent. I even marvel at the magnetised viper that seals Nikiya’s fate and relegates her to Paradise. But for the main, for not lion’s share, but Bengal tiger’s portion, I elect to be swept up in magical spectacle. I ignore the 'blood, sweat, and tears' that go into the making of any great work, and allow myself to forget about the world around me. For a couple of hours, inside the safe confines of a State Theatre like an Opium den, I choose to let the narcoleptic haze envelop me.

* The Australian Ballet last performed Natalia Makarova’s La Bayadère (originally created for the American Ballet Theatre in 1974) in 1998.
** Principals Elisa Badenes and Daniel Camargo are guest artists of the Stuttgart Ballet for the Melbourne Season of La Bayadère.

Cast (Thursday/Friday):
Nikiya, a temple dancer
Madeleine Eastoe
Elisa Badenes **

Solor, a warrior
Daniel Gaudiello
Daniel Camargo **

Gamzatti, the Rajah’s daughter
Lana Jones
Ako Kondo

Rajah
Rudy Hawkes

High Brahmin
Andrew Killian

Ajah, Gamzatti’s servant
Laura Tong

Kalum the fakir
Cameron Hunter

Agni, the Fire God
Chengwu Guo

Garuda, the Dream God
Cristiano Martino

Solo Shade I
Miwako Kubota

Solo Shade II
Ako Kondo
Laura Tong

Solo Shade III
Juliet Burnett
Robyn Hendricks


{Lev Ivanov as the warrior Solor, and Ekaterina Vazem as the temple dancer Nikiya, La Bayadère, 1877}

Notes:
[i] Stanton Welch quoted by Amanda Dunn, columnist, The Age, Dance of death: Australian Ballet's Stanton Welch prepares for La Bayadère, Sydney Morning Herald, 15^th August, 2014 (accessed 31^st August, 2014)

[ii] Dr Caitlyn Lehmann, cultural historian specializing in dance history and 18^th-century studies, A Bayadère in Paris, The Australian Ballet’s La Bayadère programme, 2014

[iii] Rose Mulready, The Australian Ballet’s content specialist, Elysian bliss: The Kingdom of the Shades, Behind Ballet blog, posted 20^th August, 2014 (accessed 31^st August, 2014)

Gods' leap, Shades' glide, and rabbits' gnaw.

{Six tiny scenes from Jan Švankmajer’s Alice (1987).}

This week, in a spice-hued costume and veil, I have traversed an Orientalist landscape of Bengal tigers and slithering vipers, at the behest of the Dream God, Garuda. (The Australian Ballet’s 4th and 6th performance of Stanton Welch’s La Bayadère, with my response on Fjord Review to come soon.) I have glimpsed Paradise through a haze of Opium smoke, and seen the hypnotic descent of the Shades, and awoken to find myself in the cinema once more with a sawdust-spilling White Rabbit who could wield a pair of scissors with envious precision. Switching heads with a Hatter, I have experienced the discomfort of having a rat set up a camp fire atop my head in the Pool of Tears. (Jan Švankmajer’s Alice, Melbourne Cinémathèque, ACMI, to tie in with the Czech and Slovak Film Festival.) I have leafed through a library of artists’ books and zines at a closing event in the gallery. (George Paton Gallery: Artist’s Books (reprised), exhibition at the University of Melbourne, including five of our zines.) And, most important of all, I have discovered that my spirit animal is not always a combination of Slater and Waldorf and this is a very good thing.

+ You've just a handful of hours today to enjoy this brilliant offer: "It's our birthday week and to celebrate we've offered you a gift — a special $79 tickets* to see La Bayadère in Melbourne for the final performances this week. If you haven't already purchased a ticket, you only have until 5pm Friday to do so."