At Ballet BC, inspiration flows from a volcanic eruption for Johan Inger's large-scale new work
The Swedish icon’s new commission builds a mini-community onstage at WAVE/S
Choreographer Johann Inger at work in Ballet BC studios. Photo by Michael Slobodian
Ballet BC presents WAVE/S at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre from May 11 to 13
IN THE WHITE-GLEAMING studio in Ballet BC’s new home on Granville Island, 20 dancers are slowdancing, tap dancing, singing, and clapping. In this fresh space, the artists are exploring new territory with one of Europe’s most inspired choreographers.
Scattered across the newly installed rehearsal floor, it’s clear they are caught up in the sweeping forces of life—connecting, communing, and then separating from the crowd. As anyone who has seen Ballet BC perform his folk-surreal Walking Mad or wind-machine-driven B.R.I.S.A. over the years, this is what Swedish-born choreographer Johan Inger does so well: building a living, breathing community onstage—with whimsical touches that have made him an audience favourite.
“What I've tried to do is to create a little mini society,” he tells Stir on a separate phonecall, speaking about the large-scale new commission he’s spent six months, on and off, creating for the company. “I think it’s because what really interests me is human conditions, human beings, human issues—that's why maybe I sort of keep on coming back to building communities. So onstage here, there’s young people, there’s old people, there’s even people who give birth. So this is really like a journey—and then it slowly dissolves.”
Still, the inspiration for the piece, which debuts on Ballet BC’s WAVE/S double bill, is rather dark—again, not a surprise from an artist whose works’ humorous moments seem always undercut with a more serious edge. The Swedish Royal Ballet-trained artist, who once led the Cullberg Ballet and today freelances as a choreographer around the world, is now based in the historic Spanish city of Seville. And it was during the dog days of the pandemic that the news headlines and TV coverage there were taken over by coverage of a volcano that had erupted on Spain’s La Palma island (in the Canaries). Inger was struck by the glacially slow destruction of the communities that lay in the oozing lava flow’s path—engulfed and then gone forever. In all, the eruption took more than 1,600 buildings.
Ballet BC dancers Sidney Chuckas and Emily Chessa reherase Johan Inger’s as-yet-untitled premiere. Photo by Michael Slobodian
“You could see exactly where this black lava was going to go, because it moves, like, a metre per day. And they could exactly predict where it's going, and then you would see it swallow a school and it would swallow a house, and it would swallow a church,” he explains. “And I thought it became so symbolic of the times that we're in—the challenges that humanity faces with the climate and everything.”
Inger will only hint at how that symbolism will play into the as-yet-untitled work. “I'm using a sort of black ash,” Inger suggests. “So these dancers are constantly leaving traces of themselves—like we all do. We leave traces of our existence.”
He stresses: “Now, this sounds very dystopic—but I don't think it actually is, it’s just a piece that comments on who we are and where we are.”
What’s more immediately clear is that Inger has pulled unexpected skill sets out of the Ballet BC dancers. (Who knew that so many could tap, or that Jacob Williams had such a hauntingly beautiful singing voice?)
The choreographer says his new openness to the strengths and stories among his dancers has come with the sheer volume of postpandemic works that have sent him criss-crossing the globe since the world reopened. He’s just finished another large-scale commission for GöteborgsOperans Danskompani in Gothenberg before heading here; and while in Vancouver, he’ll set another big creation on the young dancers at Arts Umbrella—fortunately just across Granville Island from Ballet BC’s new digs.
“It's inspiring and it's overwhelming,” he allows of the quantity of projects he’s taken on. “I've made some discoveries this year that I don't know if I would have done if I hadn't worked too much, actually.
“With so much work now, I don't have the capacity to do to create or come up with so many detailed concepts beforehand,” he explains. “It's looser. I go in with a more open mind and I look at the dancers and say, ‘What do I have in front of me and who could they be in this?’ And it’s worked very well, making these new discoveries together.”
Staging a work for a group this size apparently never becomes easier—even for someone with decades of celebrated choreography behind him, dating back to his early creations at Nederlands Dans Theater, where he first met Ballet BC artistic director Medhi Walerski. ”Big group works have a certain power that a lot of people shy away from or actually fear,” he says, and then adds with a laugh: “So, yeah, I would say for me, I enjoy it. But I fear it.”
It’s helped, Inger says, that he has found an equal openness, energy, and technical virtuosity in Ballet BC’s vibrant dancers—a mix of diverse young newcomers and returning standouts like Emily Chessa, Patrick Kilbane, and Livona Ellis.
“I adore them,” the contemporary-dance icon declares. “I think they are a really strong company with very strong dancers—and it’s not just that they're technical, but they’re smart and they're creative. It’s a company that Vancouver should just be really damn proud of, you know, and feel lucky to have.”
Related Articles
