We bumped into Jack Lanchbery, a world-renowned conductor and fellow Australian whom Li knew well as he had conducted at Houston Ballet. Knowing he was going to conduct for us had given us confidence. He had intimate knowledge of the dance steps and we trusted that he would bring out the best in us. It makes such a big difference when you have a conductor of that calibre.
Jet lag was catching up with us by the end of that day and we returned to the apartment exhausted. Soon after dinner, I crashed out and felt that I had slept for a long time when Sophie’s cries woke me up at midnight. Poor Sophie was wide awake and ready to play. Li and I had to take turns with her, so one of us could get some sleep.
Mum and Dad flew in to Sydney the next day. Our parents greeted each other like old friends.
We told Mum and Dad about the small stage. ‘It’s all because Jørn Utzon’s design was compromised,’ Neil George told us. ‘His sails were revolutionary and his design was very courageous, but it scared people. His original design was for only two walls and to have it open to the harbour, but the government insisted on four walls, so that meant the stages had to be downsized. What a great shame.’
Sophie had a Western-style breakfast first with us and Mum and Dad, then Chinese food for lunch with her nana and yeye. We would come home in the late afternoon and all have dinner together. Niang and Dia were nervous to walk too far without Li, but Coralie and Neil George did take them to visit a few nearby sights, including the Chinese Garden of Friendship at Darling Harbour, which was built in 1988 to symbolise the friendship between Sydney and the city of Guangzhou in Guangdong province.
Before we knew it, it was opening night. As I sat in front of the dressing-room mirror putting on my make-up, I realised I was nervous. I felt I was dancing well since having Sophie. Once you have a baby, that baby is the most important thing in the world, and afterwards I had just become more courageous and danced with a new maturity. I wanted to give my home audience the best performance I could, and I knew I was safe in Li’s hands.
I put on my green tutu with its velvet bodice striped with glittering silver and the bright tangerine flower in my hair, and took my place in the wings with Li. We were on at the end of the first half. I knew Mum and Dad were sitting in the middle of row E, the best seats in the house, and I just knew in my bones that this would be the best performance I’d ever done for them. We noticed there were a lot of the company dancers standing in the wings eagerly waiting to watch us, which added even more pressure.
‘Take a deep breath, relax and enjoy,’ Li said, as he squeezed my hand. I took a deep breath and simply nodded. The orchestra started and after a few bars we charged on stage together. Li took my hand and I stood en pointe, lifting my leg to attitude and balancing for a few seconds. The audience burst into applause immediately. This opening is a dramatic way to start, and gives the audience a taste of what is to come. And Ben’s pas de deux delivers from the beginning to the end. In the final steps I walk towards Li, my hand in his, and lift my leg up to a split en pointe, and on the last beat of the music, pop my head against his. The applause was rapturous! Then it was Li’s turn to perform his solo with all those stunning double turns in the air to the right, to the left and to the right again. His solo was technically brilliant, with high leaps and dazzling pirouettes that he delivered with such charm and ease. Then I did my solo with the tambourine, a solo full of challenging steps that was a little cheeky and lots of fun. By this point we were already spent, but we had two codas to go and they were complete show stoppers. The music really takes off and we did turn after turn – for me, thirty-two fouettés, hitting my tambourine with each one. Then I had to do a circle of high jeté jumps, banging my tambourine above my head at the precise moment my legs reached full split. Finally, we flew towards each other on centre stage. Li spun me around furiously for multiple pirouettes and I finished with another dramatic whack of the tambourine. The cheers and thunderous applause were instant. The audience loved it!
I remember feeling so elated, especially knowing that my parents and friends were there in the audience. And I knew we had performed well. I was overcome with emotion.
‘Thank you,’ I said to Li in the usual understated way that dancers show their appreciation to their partners.
‘That was good, Mary!’ he said.
My eyes shone with happiness. Li hugged me tight. He knew how much this performance meant to me. Yes, it was good! I thought.
Later, at the opening-night reception, Noel, Maina and others associated with the company were all effusive in their praise. How wonderful to receive such a response at home. And, of course, Li was a huge hit. ‘The height of those leaps!’, ‘The speed of those double ensembles!’, ‘That ease and confidence!’ they exclaimed.
It was so wonderful to see Mum and Dad at the stage door.
‘Splendid!’ Neil George exclaimed.
‘You danced beautifully,’ Coralie added, with a kiss. She was always just a bit nervous for me.
How many Scotches did she have to calm herself down this time? I wondered. She knew what a perfectionist I was, and I was happy and relieved when it was all over. Brisbane was yet to come. We all walked back to the apartment together, happy.
It had been a smart move to include Li in the gala: the audiences were so taken by how stunning he was as a dancer. At the end of the fourth and last performance in Sydney, Noel actually paid him, even though he had told me a fee wasn’t possible because of the budget. I think the Australian Ballet was quite embarrassed in the end because Li brought the house down. We thought this was quite funny and laughed about that for days. What a bonus!
Once the season was finished in Sydney, we took the short flight to Brisbane – sunny capital of Queensland, the north-eastern state of Australia – to perform once more, guesting at Queensland Ballet’s thirtieth-anniversary gala this time.
Mum and Dad had been living in Brisbane for several years now, as had most of my brothers and sisters. My parents had invited us to stay in their apartment. It was a relief that we didn’t have to stay in a hotel as it wouldn’t be as relaxed, and it’d be nice for Niang and Dia to meet the rest of my big family. All the children had left home now, so Mum and Dad had moved to a three-bedroom apartment high on a hill in Wooloowin, which had glorious views from almost every room, including vast views of the city.
Niang and Dia just fitted in as if they’d always belonged, despite the language difficulties. Maybe having the shared experience of many children made it easy for everyone to relate to each other. It was such a fun time for all of us to catch up, and Sophie wasn’t at all fazed about meeting that many people, all of whom wanted a piece of her, hugging and kissing and swinging her around. It was wonderful to see Sophie that happy and that adaptable. At sixteen months she was still the most easy, delightful child.
Brig had us to a barbecue at her home. She had married and was pregnant with her first baby. Mick and his wife, Robyn, were there with their two children, Jessica and baby brother Tim. Ger and his wife, Marlene, were there with baby Kate, who was not yet 100 days old, much to Niang’s distress, as it was the Chinese custom that both mother and baby not be out and about for the first hundred days. Pat and Dom were there too, but Jo was living in New York doing some freelance contemporary dance. Matt and his wife, Annie, weren’t there either. They both worked at the Queensland Performing Arts Centre, where we’d be performing. Matt was staging manager and Annie was a stage manager. As usual, everyone talked at once and was able to take part in multiple conversations at the same time. Li was feeling right at home. This was like being with his own large family in China.