Cycles of Transformation at The National Ballet of Canada

Genevieve Penn Nabity and Christopher Gerty in The Four Seasons. (Photo: Carolina Kuras.)

Dancers in leaf-green unitards slip into a line at the rear of the stage, their arms raised overhead, wrists connected, fingers fanned into a vessel-like shape—a motif in David Dawson’s The Four Seasons. Subtle yet striking, the gesture suggests an offering, a quiet acknowledgment of something greater than oneself. Dawson, a British choreographer with a distinguished European pedigree, has built his career on crafting works that channel this sense of humility and connection into movement, transforming classical ballet into a language of both physical and spiritual exploration. His choreography demands not only technical precision but also an ability to embody its emotional weight, asking dancers to balance control with a sense of surrender—to the music, to the movement, and to the larger themes it seeks to express.

On Wednesday night, this dedication was evident as The Four Seasons opened the National Ballet of Canada’s spring season, with performances continuing through March 2. The announcement that followed—Dawson’s appointment as choreographer-in-residence, a position vacant since 2007—marked a deepening of his connection to the company, which began in 2023 with Anima Animus, presented under current artistic director Hope Muir.

The mixed program itself was a study in contrasts and possibilities, showcasing three distinct choreographic voices. Dawson’s The Four Seasons, occupying the entire second half of the evening, served as both culmination and counterbalance to the first half’s offerings: Marco Goecke’s Morpheus’ Dream, a taut and fragmented world premiere reimagined from its original 2021 staging for Stuttgart Ballet (Nachtmerrie, German for “nightmare”), and Antony Tudor’s The Leaves Are Fading, revived for its 50th anniversary—a poignant meditation on memory and impermanence. Together, these works formed a cohesive reflection on transformation—of bodies, emotions, and time itself.

Tudor’s The Leaves Are Fading opened the evening with a wistful elegance that felt both timeless and distinctly of another era. Set to Dvořák’s lilting chamber music, the ballet evokes a world suspended in memory, where couples drift through sequences of airy lifts, soft pirouettes, and shimmering bourrées. The dancers, dressed in Patricia Zipprodt’s flowing costumes—delicate creams and florals for the women, billowing blouses for the men—moved with a buoyant lightness that softened classical technique into something more nostalgic and romantic. The male dancers brought a strong, muscular presence, their movements contrasting beautifully with the women’s delicate grace. Framed by the image of a lone woman entering and exiting the stage as if lost in reverie, the choreography unfolds like a series of vignettes: fleeting moments of love and longing that dissolve as quickly as they appear. Tudor’s genius lies in his ability to imbue academic ballet with an emotional immediacy, blending baroque formality with folk-inspired motifs and an almost Renaissance-like sense of communal dance. Though undeniably rooted in its time—the height of New York’s dance boom in 1975—the work remains a luminous showcase for the company’s dancers, with standout performances by Svetlana Lunkina, Tirion Law, Naoya Ebe, Larkin Miller and Erica Lall. Its final moments, as light fades and the dancers retreat into shadow, leave behind not resolution but the quiet ache of something half-remembered.

Tirion Law and company in The Leaves are Fading. (Photo: Carolina Kuras.)

Goecke’s Morpheus’ Dream followed with stark theatricality: a darkened stage pierced by an oval of light into which a solo dancer propelled himself in a dramatic run from stage left, sliding to a halt at centre stage. Clad in a khaki tank top and loose trousers—an androgynous uniform mirrored by a female dancer who soon joined him—the figures launched into Goecke’s signature hyperactive choreography. Arms flailed, heads jerked, and ribcages spasmed with insect-like precision, creating an atmosphere that was both nightmarish and claustrophobic. Principal dancers Genevieve Penn Nabity and Ben Rudisin brought both stamina and contemporary athleticism to their roles, combining muscular presence with hyper-flexibility that heightened the tension of Goecke’s fragmented world.

In the second half of this taut 10-minute work, Rudisin struck matches as Nabity stood motionless in front of him, each strike and extinguishing releasing amorphous clouds of smoke that seemed to trap them in an endless cycle of creation and destruction. Costumes by Thomas Lempertz and lighting by Udo Haberland subtly enhanced the dark imagery, while the score—two improvisational piano pieces by Keith Jarrett transitioning seamlessly into Lady Gaga’s hauntingly slowed-down “Bad Romance”—underscored the work’s transformation from frenetic obsession to something unexpectedly tender yet unresolved. With Morpheus’ Dream, Goecke reinforced his reputation as one of contemporary ballet’s most provocative voices—a creator unafraid to find beauty in fragility and unease.

Dawson’s The Four Seasons, receiving its North American premiere, closed the evening with breathtaking physicality and visual clarity. Originally created for Semperoper Ballett in 2018, it strips away ornamentation to focus on raw movement performed by a cast of 16 dancers. The principal couples—Genevieve Penn Nabity with Larkin Miller, Heather Ogden with Ben Rudisin, and Calley Skalnik with Spencer Hack—brought both precision and lyricism to Dawson’s intricate partnering sequences, while the ensemble provided a dynamic backdrop that amplified the work’s sweeping energy.

Set against Eno Henze’s minimalist yet dramatic stage design, the choreography was enhanced by Yumiko Takeshima’s vibrant costumes: royal blue, burnt ochre, aubergine, magenta, vivid green (representing life), and burnished gold—evoking Mark Rothko’s luminous paintings. These vivid costumes visually complemented Henze’s geometric forms: a neon-lit triangle dominating the rear; a tilting square descending like a canopy; an enormous glowing circle rotating with sudden urgency—each element visually mirroring Max Richter’s reimagining of Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons. Richter transforms Vivaldi’s familiar score through looping patterns and layered repetition that highlight themes of renewal and transformation.

The dancers embodied this sense of motion through relentless energy: expansive lifts; corkscrew turns; deep backbends that seemed to stretch toward infinity. Signature gestures—reaching upward and outward—imbued the choreography with a sense of exploration and optimism, as if life itself were being celebrated in all its fleeting beauty. Violinist Aaron Schwebel’s virtuosic performance in the pit brought an added layer of intensity to this meditation on time and change. In its final moments, The Four Seasons offered not resolution but an open-ended reflection on life cycles.

– Deirdre Kelly is a Toronto-based journalist, author and internationally recognized dance critic and style writer on staff at The Globe and Mail newspaper from 1985 to 2017. She writes for Dance Magazine in New York, the Dance Gazette in London, and NUVO in Vancouver, and is a contributor to the International Dictionary of Ballet and AWOL: Tales for Travel-Inspired Minds. The best-selling author of Paris Times Eight and Ballerina: Sex, Scandal and Suffering Behind the Symbol of Perfection, she is a two-time recipient (2020 and 2014) of Canada’s Nathan Cohen Prize for outstanding critical writing. In 2017, she joined York University as Editor of the award-winning The York University Magazine where she is also the publication’s principal writer. In 2023, she published her latest book, Fashioning The Beatles: The Looks That Shook The World.