Material dreams

Last month the Royal New Zealand Ballet auctioned off a load of its costumes to raise moiney for future productions and make some more storage space at its Lower Hutt facilities.

I went on a grim day to the exhibition on the waterfront. As the rain lashed the streets outside, I disappeared into a world of tulle and sequins, where dreams are material and can all come true.

I had to snap this peculiar thing from 1001 Nights - it is a 'blue flying man' according to the programme - but it looks like a cycling outfit him outdoors might wear in one of his more flamboyant moods. I can just picture the sheer white wings flapping out behind him as he pedals round the bays of Wellington.

There were costumes from Swan Lake, Alice, The Nutcracker, Cinderella, 1001 Nights, Jean, Le Papillon, and Coppelia. Apparently these costumes could be used as display in the home or office or for a fancy dress party - but only if you're a size 6.

Apparently more than 100 costumes were sold to the tune of more than $40,000 - so expect a lot of tiny fairies (is there a collective noun for fairies?) coming to a party near you in tutus.

I love seeing these things up close and personal. They look great from a distance and yet are designed for movement and practicality as well as embodying a vision. They combine creativity and practicality in a way which would gladden William Morris' heart .

From pretty maids all in a row, to Chinese men, Neoploitan dancers and Polish peasants, there is a wide range.

Despite the hideous lighting, I did my best to take photos of the sublime and the strange. Mad hats, green goblins and scary ogres nestled beside snow queens and hairdresser's assistants.

One of the problems before the exhibition apparently was the dearth of mannequins in Wellington for display purposes. Who'd have thought that a town full of politicians would be devoid of dummies - sorry, cheap gibe but it proved simply irresistable.

For little (and big) girls everywhere, one of the highlights was the Cinderella tutu. This was a protoype for the famous outfit, and featured hundreds of silk roses sewn on the skirt and tiny diamante sequins on the bodice. It fetched the highest price of the auction ($2,650). Everyone can dream...

Ballet costumes

Last month the very beautiful and very talented Kate Venables (pictured front, rehearsing Banderillero - photo by Maarten Holl) took us on a tour of the Royal New Zealand Ballet (RNZB) headquarters at St James Theatre in Wellington.

When I was a little girl I used to want to be a dancer, despite the fact that I was clearly never going to have the grace, poise and slender strength of these amazing athletes – my father reinforced this by calling me ‘the sugar plum elephant’ each time I not-so-nimbly pirouetted down the stairs.

It’s partly the costumes that attract me. They’re so beautiful and so practical, having to withstand the rigours of vigorous activity while looking simply exquisite. I thought this was a perfect opportunity to get a peek behind the scenes, and I spied upon an entire room for making costumes, where materials, threads, and silent sewing machines wait on stand-by ready to spring into action.

Kate showed us that dress from Cinderella – the white satin tutu designed by Tracy Grant Lord studded with about 60,000 small, sparkling Swarovski crystals in a delicate rose design. It is shown here worn by Katie Hurst-Saxon in a photo by Rob Kitchin.

Kate also showed us a jacket and explained that there are three settings of hooks and eyes so that it will fit whichever principal is dancing the role. Sometimes the part doesn’t necessarily go to the ‘best’ dancer, but the one who fits the costume, although this isn’t too much of an issue as many of the dancers are equally talented, and equally tiny!

The costumes for Romeo and Juliet are being worked on at the moment. The costume budget for a major show is about $70,000, so it pays to be able to reuse things. The RNZB owns the performance rights to certain shows – like Romeo and Juliet, and Swan Lake – that they put on periodically; by the third time they might actually make money on one.

Kate also showed us the shoe cupboard and explained how dancers try all sorts of methods to soften the pointes of their ballet shoes. These are made from layers upon layers of cardboard, and the dancers bend them back and forth, whack them with hammers, soak them in water – anything to mould them to their feet and attempt to make them more comfortable. Dancers have a limited number of shoes, so when they have got them the way they want them; they write their name on the pair they have individually customised.

The shoes hurt and pinch when they dance. Many dancers get foot infections – the fiery red fungus creeps between their toes and can spread up their legs. When they finish a show their shoes can be full of blood and pus, and all the while they smile and look pretty. It is such a tortuous art form!

Despite all the back-stage horrors, the façade that gets presented to the public is magnificent and beautiful. I see that the RNZB are auctioning off some of their costumes from Queen’s Wharf in the last weekend of June. Even if you’re not interested in buying anything, I recommend you get down and have a look, inviting a little make-believe and glamour into your life.