Doing the two step

The French dance term ‘pas de deux’ means ‘step of two’. That’s it. Two people and some steps. It’s one of the simplest concepts in the world and its possibilities are endless. The minute you put two people together you have a story.

The pas de deux were the first things Sir Kenneth MacMillan tackled when making his 1974 version of the 18th-century novel L’Histoire du Chevalier des Grieux et de Manon Lescaut. They are the ballet’s heart and soul and the fixed points around which the drama revolves. If you want pas de deux that plumb the variety and depths of human passion, MacMillan is your man.

They’re not easy, it goes without saying.

These pas de deux are much trickier than those for, say, The Nutcracker Prince or Siegfried in Swan Lake, says Principal Artist Joseph Caley, who returns to the role of des Grieux having danced it previously with English National Ballet. “A lot of the moves are off balance and everything is spinning.” There are lifts around the neck and what former The Australian Ballet Principal Artist Adam Bull has described as “death-defying throws and catches”.

“You couldn’t get three more different temperatures,” says Steven Heathcote of the way MacMillan handles the progress of Manon and des Grieux’s affair from heady first meeting, consummation of their love and – spoiler alert! – Manon’s death in des Grieux’s arms in the swamps of Louisiana.

Heathcote should know. Now a Principal Repetiteur at The Australian Ballet, he danced des Grieux in the company’s premiere season in 1994 and again in 1999.

When Manon, fresh out of her convent school, falls in love with des Grieux at first sight it’s all “roses and butterflies” Heathcote says. “Everything that happens is like a discovery of each other.” Innocence, freshness and optimism flourish.

“The very first thing des Grieux does, he pretty much sweeps her off her feet. It’s a bit of a cliché but that’s what he’s doing. He’s so ardent and so swept up, so enamoured with her. He takes her hand, she pivots on pointe and he literally, gently, pulls her off balance. Then they go into a series of floating lifts where it’s almost as if she’s levitating with bliss.”

It isn’t to be. Soloist Mia Heathcote (Steven’s daughter), who in 2025 will dance Manon for the second time following her debut in the role for Queensland Ballet, says the young woman is torn between what her heart tells her and the security bestowed by wealth. “She’s extremely scared of being poor. Scared of having that long, slow death of poverty.”

Manon gets taken up by the predatory, very rich Monsieur G.M. but, changing her mind, returns to des Grieux with dire consequences.

The lovers’ third-act pas de deux is extraordinary, a harrowing expression of loss and despair. The first-act pas de deux may be the most technically demanding but this one pushes the dancers to their emotional limits. Mia Heathcote describes the ending as “absolute devastation”.

“It should look the least choreographic,” Steven Heathcote says. At this point Manon is close to death and des Grieux trying desperately to keep her alive. She is exhausted and looks like a rag doll, a dead weight.

When it comes to good partnering in a ballet as physical as Manon, the man’s strength is a given but just one of many aspects. Communication, trust, shared understanding of the music’s dynamics and eye contact are among the necessities.

“You’ve got to be really open with each other – diplomatic, but clear,” says Steven Heathcote. For Caley, calmness is another vital quality. “I don’t know how many times I’ve been told, oh, you’re so calm on stage.” It gives his partners assurance. “Then they relax and they are in the moment too.”