My First Ballet: The Little Mermaid
Queensland Ballet’s My First Ballet season of The Little Mermaid confirms that making work for young audiences doesn’t require artistic compromise. This production demonstrates how clarity of storytelling, strong design thinking, and disciplined performance can coexist with genuine craft, to delight the little ones. It is a work that understands its audience and respects it, offering visual richness and emotional coherence.
Paul Boyd’s choreography strikes an astute balance between the literal and the internal. The narrative is always legible, yet the movement never becomes reductive. Boyd’s use of levels, spatial patterning, and shifting dynamics gives the ballet forward momentum, while moments of stillness allow the emotional stakes to land. There is a welcome physicality throughout, particularly in the more contemporary and athletic passages, which adds texture to what might otherwise risk feeling purely illustrative. The choreography shows confidence in its own vocabulary and a clear-eyed sense of purpose.
At the centre of the work, Maya Irimichi’s Little Mermaid is marked by a calm, appealing stage presence that draws the eye without strain. She moves with an unaffected sincerity that suits the role well, allowing the character’s determination and curiosity to read cleanly. Her physical phrasing is clear and her performance choices remain consistent, giving the audience a heroine who feels grounded rather than overstated. Opposite her, Taron Geyl’s Prince is a generous and attentive partner, technically secure and dramatically engaged. His acting choices are thoughtful, and his responsiveness in partnering supports Irimichi’s performance rather than competing with it, creating a believable and gently unfolding connection.
Emily Sprout’s Spirit of the Sea provides an important tonal anchor for the work. With a bright, open expression and smooth, assured movement quality, she guides the audience through the story with warmth and clarity. Her presence is reassuring without becoming static, and her transitions through the space feel fluid and purposeful.
Joseph Moss’s Sea Witch is a clear audience favourite, and for good reason. His characterisation is sharply drawn, his facial expressions vivid without tipping into caricature, and there is a palpable sense that he is relishing the role. The performance is controlled yet playful, demonstrating a strong understanding of how to communicate villainy to a young audience while maintaining technical integrity.
Matthew Erlandson and Sean Ferenczi, as the two eels, bring a welcome jolt of contemporary energy to the stage. Their dancing leans into athleticism and modern movement language, and both performers commit fully to the physical demands and comic potential of the roles. The result is highly entertaining and visually distinctive.
Sienna Baensch’s Temptress is a standout performance in an already strong cast. She commands the stage with ease, combining beautiful line and fluid technique with a sharp dramatic instinct. There is confidence and charisma in her work that never feels forced, and her ability to shift between allure and menace is particularly effective. Ava Evie, as the Prince’s female attendant, brings precision and polish, paired with a magnetic stage presence that ensures she remains engaging even in supporting moments. Her dancing is clean and assured, and she performs with a confidence that reads clearly to the audience.
Ashlyn Beggs, as the Mermaid Sister, contributes strongly to the ensemble with evident musicality and a clear sense of partnership. Her work shows attentiveness to those around her and a generosity of focus that supports the storytelling, particularly in group sequences where cohesion matters most. Shaun Curtis, appearing as both Prince’s Valet and Merman, demonstrates versatility and reliability. His physical confidence and grounded performance quality allow him to move seamlessly between roles, contributing both narrative clarity and ensemble strength.
Jean Sibelius’ score underpins the production effectively, supporting both action and emotional shift without overwhelming the choreography. It provides a solid musical foundation that allows the movement and design elements to breathe. Zoe Griffiths’ costume design is an unequivocal highlight. Each character is realised with imagination and flair, using colour, texture, and silhouette to immediately establish identity. The costumes enhance movement rather than restrict it, and their visual impact is sustained throughout the work.
Josh McIntosh’s set design is both inventive and highly practical. The underwater rocks, the boat that genuinely sails, and the festoon-lit masts are not only visually appealing but efficiently deployed. The Prince’s garden, with its walls and arches, is elegant and evocative, and the speed with which set elements are moved on and off stage keeps the pacing tight. Craig Wilkinson’s video design is integral to the success of the overall vision, creating a fully realised world that is particularly well suited to younger viewers. The animation complements rather than competes with the live action, expanding the theatrical space with confidence. Ben Hughes’ lighting further sculpts this world, supporting emotional beats and ensuring each character remains clearly visible and dramatically framed.
Sarah McIntosh’s narration proves vital to the work’s accessibility. Her delivery supports comprehension without interrupting flow, and it plays a crucial role in welcoming young audiences into the form. Taken as a whole, The Little Mermaid is thoughtful, well-crafted, and generous in spirit, offering both emerging artists and young audiences a meaningful entry point into the artform.
Kitty Goodall
Photographer: David Kelly
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