In this age of virtual performance, the screen can take you from the west coast of Canada, to Northern Switzerland in a matter of seconds. On the morning of February 27th at 10am, I attended the virtual performance of Impulse by the Junior Company of Ballet Zurich. This 90 minute show included three pieces by three different choreographers. The third and final work, the one I will be reviewing in depth in this essay, was titled Union in Poetry choreographed by Juliano Nunes. This performance took place at the Theatre Winterthur in Switzerland, where these shows typically have a live audience: the opportunity to attend the show myself all the way from Vancouver is a rare, special one. The music for Union in Poetry was composed by Ezio Bosso, Arvo Pärt, Frédéric Chopin, and the lighting design comes from the masterful Martin Gebhardt. Through choreographic choices, costuming, partner work and more, Nunes showcased the virtuosity of the Junior Ballet company while creating a contemporary piece that simultaneously honours classical ballet, and rejects its frigid rules.
This piece was 25 minutes total in length, performed by 14 dancers. The first visual of 14 silhouettes taking up the entire stage space was immediately captivating. As the lights slowly came up the long, flowing yellow costumes worn by all on stage came into view. The music and movement began, and the flawless synchronicity between the movers was the kind you only find from professional ballet companies. The first 4 minutes of movement was quick, expansive, precise, and it seemed as though the entire company morphed into one body. I could hear their breath as they moved: loud and full exhales you never traditionally hear during a ballet where the dancers are taught to hide any evidence of effort from the audience. This use of audible breath is one of the elements that classifies this work as contemporary ballet rather than classical. The sound of the music mixed with their breath seemed to fill the space, while also making the dancers seem that much more human. During a classical ballet, the performers seem more like mannequins as they silently shift across the stage. The music from the piano fit with the dancing so perfectly, rising and falling together with the same heartbeat - the image of a coral reef moving with the ocean’s current came to mind as I watched.
The first break from the ensemble unison comes after the performers step upstage in a diagonal
pattern. A small group begins leaping through the air, claiming the space above them. I took note instantly
that the jumps were not all the same. The transitions between the groups that were moving were seamless,
occurring so quickly and effectively you could hardly tell where one group stopped moving and the other
began. Thinking back to classical works like Swan Lake and Don Quixote, group variations always have a
very clear beginning and ending - an ideal that Nunes clearly rejected here. As I watched each mover, I
noticed the subtle but clear differences between them one would never see if this was a classical ballet,
like the aforementioned Swan Lake. Different angles of the head, a mix of pointed and sickled feet,
different hand positions, and the use of turned in legs - all while technique is maintained. This brought me
such joy; I felt I was actually watching 14 unique individuals on stage rather than a bunch of identical,
carbon copies of the “perfect” ballet dancer.
A series of solos and duets began, first a solo from a male dancer, next a male-female duet, and
finally a male-male duet before the larger group contact work commenced. Each solo and duet was more
stunning than the last, the flexibility of the dancers on full display reminding me that these individuals are
training at the highest level in the ballet world. The partner work was innovative and supremely athletic.
The decision by Nunes to choreograph the longer male-male duet was one I was excited to see, especially
coming from a dance style where gender stereotypes and heteronormativity are unbending. Duets are
always a man and a woman in ballet - there is no question about that. What Nunes did here was
choreograph a duet that was similar in style and aesthetic to a traditional ballet duet, but it is done by two
men who equally share the roles of supporter and supported.
All 14 performers wore the same costume - another contemporary choice from Nunes. Men and
women are always styled completely differently in ballet companies. The outfit was all yellow, with long
sleeve sheer tops and flowing skirts that split up the side to showcase the dancers toned legs. None of the
performers were wearing tights, allowing the definition of their leg muscles and individual skin tones to be
visible. The costumes were simple, yet captivating - they were not dramatic because they did not need to
be for a piece this powerful. Juliano Nunes’ choreography stands on its own two legs with such confidence
that the dancers did not need anything more on their bodies than this effortless yellow ensemble. When the
choreography is complex, captivating, has depth, and draws your eye to a different place at each moment,
the costumes do not need to be flamboyant.
The first word in the title of this piece is ‘Union’. The unity and peace between the dancers was clear
as they moved as one for the entirety of this piece. The importance of a work that displays this connection
and love is profound after a year of grief, violence, and division. 2020 was an eye-opening year for
everyone and Nunes is one of many artists taking inspiration from it. The final solo of the piece was done
by a woman; she split herself into many halves and contorted her body across the stage with delicacy. As I
watched her dance, I began to reflect on how it was as if with each movement the performers made, they
wrote poetry in the air around them; again referring to the title of the piece. Each guiding elbow, flexed
foot, penche, and slide across the ground wrote their story - with each lingering gaze adding punctuation.
The meaning behind the words they wrote with their limbs was open to interpretation, no clear meaning
was ever made obvious. I think that was the point - anyone watching could attach any story to each mover
depending on how they made them feel: the potential for emotional impact within viewers is therefore
endless.
Union in Poetry refused to let my attention drift away, captivating me with the raw physical talent
before my eyes as well as the contemporary aesthetic from a traditional company. I believe Nunes was
intentional with his choices as he crafted this piece - he kept the ballet form alive while leaning into
contemporary movement styles, modern duets, breath work, and uniform costuming. The music brought
no dramatic flourish, only simple harmony. The costumes ensured that no gender norms could leap across
the stage, just a simple fashionable choice to show off the dancers physique that much better. Juliano
Nunes choreographs with far more than just ballet in mind, his work brings several different dance
techniques to the stage in subtle, smart ways. This work was a contemporary masterpiece supported by a
rich ballet foundation, it was one of the greatest works I’ve ever been lucky enough to watch - even if it
was on a screen.
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