‘A part of me grieves not being able to fly like I did’: Kelley Abbey on spending a career in dance

As a career dancer Kelley Abbey tread the boards on some of the world’s biggest stages but as a choreographer she has soared to greater heights. How will she tame a stage the size of a football field for this year’s Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour?

Choreographer Kelley Abbey

Raygun’s infamous Olympics performance has got us wondering, is dance an art or a sport? I mean, it’s a combination, isn’t it? It’s your athletic facility meeting the art. When you’re learning choreography, the first thing you do is learn the 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 – that’s the maths. And then at a certain point it becomes automatic and the choreography is in your body; that’s where you get to fly above it. There’s a part of me that grieves not being able to fly like I did when I was an athlete, cutting through the air. I miss that, I really do.

Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour is one of the world’s most prestigious stages – and one of the biggest. It’s the size of a football field. Is that a challenge when it comes to choreography? There’s a lot to consider – you’ve got the party boats, the ferries, the bats. We don’t have the luxury of the proscenium arch and the focus that gives you. Our stage is a lot of real estate, so we have to be compelling. I say you’ve got to throw it with a javelin mentality – throw it big and hard to hit that audience.

Has a performer ever had the misfortune of falling from the stage and into the drink? No, thankfully, but the show is held in March when it likes to rain in Sydney. When we did Carmen I remember we had strong winds, and I’d put a girl in a giant 10m skirt. The wind got underneath it one night and she took off like Mary Poppins!

Kelley Abbey

Your career credits include musicals but you also choreographed the penguins in George Miller’s animation feature Happy Feet, and you’re the creative director on Dancing With The Stars – what’s your preferred medium? I was also an actor in a TV series (E Street) and I played lead roles in theatre, so I come to performing at every angle. I’m 60 next year and I’m probably one of only a few peers that are still flexing in this world; I don’t take it for granted. It’s hard to choose – I love the give-and-receive you get with a live theatre audience but I also love the perfectionism of film. And TV is always fast and furious.

Dancers generally can boast a laundry list of injuries over their career. Any big tumbles? I was still dancing like an athlete until I was 45, which was pushing the envelope in terms of longevity. I had looked after myself, worked hard at the gym, and did all the things that kept my facility strong. But at 45 I went down – bang, bang, bang … I had hip surgery, two shoulder reconstructions, a spinal injury, and cracked cartilage in my heel. Fortunately, I was still able to work. I did Carmen on Sydney Harbour in a sling and a moon-boot.

How does a choreographer work when she can’t walk?! Ever since I was young I’ve seen the steps in my mind like a movie. I draw them and write them down.

How does one begin to reimagine a stage show as legendary as this year’s Handa Opera, Guys and Dolls, which debuted on Broadway back in 1950? It rarely happens that you get to have an Australian creative team on a big Broadway musical of this calibre and on this scale. Normally, with these shows you do what the American or UK choreography is. I’ve got books at home full of sketches of every show or gig I’ve ever done. For Guys and Dolls it’s 220 pages long. I saw a production of the show in Sydney five times when I was 17.

For the budding musical stars out there, what are the ingredients for great choreography? Storytelling is the most important. I like it when steps have got intention, a story behind them. Then I’d say musicality – it’s your purpose as a choreographer to make the sonics visual. Another ingredient is dynamics: you want to go left when people expect you to go right.

Guys and Dolls runs from March 21 until April 20 at Mrs Macquaries Point, Sydney.