Review: Duckpond at the Sydney Opera House

Review by Kate Gaul

Circa’s “Duck Pond”, currently playing at the Sydney Opera House, is a playful and occasionally uneven reimagining of familiar stories, brought to life by a young ensemble of fearless acrobats. Drawing together “Swan Lake” and “The Ugly Duckling”, the work proposes a new fable about transformation, identity and self-acceptance - one that wears its intelligence lightly and trusts the audience to connect the dots.

Circa has long excelled at stripping circus back to its essentials, and “Duck Pond” continues that tradition with a minimalist black-and-white aesthetic that feels both classical and contemporary. The set is spare and graphic, functioning less as a literal environment than as a flexible frame for bodies in motion. This restraint allows the performers to take centre stage - literally and figuratively - while also leaving room for humour and surprise. Against this monochrome world, the sudden appearance of bright yellow and orange ducks, mopping the stage with exaggerated seriousness, is instantly charming. The joke deepens when those same mops are repurposed as apparatus, becoming tools for balance, flight and risk.

The conceptual blend is clever rather than heavy-handed. Swan-like poses and ballet-inflected arm lines ripple through the choreography, but they are filtered through Circa’s distinctly muscular circus language. The performers skim, perch, topple and fly, echoing the grace of classical ballet while never pretending to be dancers in the traditional sense. Fairy-tale references are similarly light: recognisable enough to anchor the work, but never so literal that they pin it down. This looseness is a strength, giving the spills and thrills emotional context without forcing a rigid narrative arc.

That sense of atmosphere is heightened by Jethro Woodward’s emotive soundscape, which weaves fragments of Tchaikovsky into a contemporary score. The music swells and recedes like memory, allowing familiar melodies to surface just long enough to trigger recognition before dissolving into something new. Alexander Berlage’s lighting design complements this beautifully, sculpting the space with clarity and restraint and lend the entire production a classy, considered polish.

Not every experiment lands equally well. At times, the incorporation of ballet-like movement within an acrobatic framework feels slightly awkward, and some sequences don’t show the performers at their absolute best. There are moments where the flow wobbles, or where the hybrid vocabulary seems to limit rather than liberate the artists’ physical skills. But these slips are brief and never derail the overall experience.

If “Duck Pond” occasionally falters in its middle stretches, it more than redeems itself in its final act. The concluding sequence - an anarchic dismantling of the set that exposes the bare stage and the performers’ “true” carnie selves - is both cathartic and deeply satisfying. Any illusion is joyfully torn apart, leaving sweat, breath and humanity in its wake. It’s a powerful reminder that beneath the feathers, fairy tales and formal beauty lies the raw, communal thrill that circus does better than almost any other artform.

Ultimately, “Duck Pond” may not be Circa’s most flawless work, but it is a generous and imaginative one. Its ambition, wit and visual finesse are undeniable, and its themes of becoming, belonging and self-acceptance resonate clearly. The youngsters in the audience loved it.  Even when it stumbles, the company’s skill and creativity shine through - proof that transformation, like circus itself, is rarely neat, but often thrilling to watch.

Image Credit: Daniel Boud