As a former dancer who has grappled with questions about sexuality, I was often struck by ballet’s contradictory relationship with queer inclusion and representation. On one hand, the art form – especially in Western countries – has long been seen as a safe space for the LGBTQ+ community. Ballet legends like Rudolf Nureyev, John Neumeier, and Jack Soto lived openly as gay men, and in 1997 an American study estimated that more than half of professional male dancers identified as gay or bisexual. Yet despite the sector’s inclusivity, the art form has also played a role in suppressing queer representation onstage.

Much of the classical repertoire performed by ballet companies is rooted in nineteenth-century narratives that perpetuate heteronormative ideas of gender and sexuality. While modern companies and contemporary works have begun to challenge these conventions – for example Matthew Bourne’s 1995 reimagining of Swan Lake, which replaced the traditional corps de ballet with bare-chested male swans – portrayals of queer love remain largely absent from the programming of leading ballet companies.

That’s why, when The Australian Ballet premièred Christopher Wheeldon’s Oscar in September 2024 at Melbourne’s Regent Theatre – the company’s first ballet to feature unambiguous male-on-male partnering and even an onstage kiss between two men – it felt both revolutionary and overdue.

In David Hallberg’s first major commission since stepping into the role of artistic director, Oscar centres on Oscar Wilde; the celebrated author and playwright from late Victorian England who was sentenced to two years hard labour for ‘gross indecency’ with other men.

For corps de ballet member Benjamin Garrett, a gay dancer who had, until now, spent his entire career performing straight roles, the announcement of Oscar stirred both excitement and curiosity. ‘My immediate thought was: Does this mean we’re going to have a gay ballet? Are we going to see two men dancing together, loving each other on stage, even kissing? That was so exciting to me. I’d never seen two men kiss on stage in a big ballet. And if it even came close, it would have been for comedic effect, the butt of a joke.’

Benjamin Garrett as Bosie and Callum Linnane as Oscar (photograph by Christopher Rodgers Wilson)

Reflecting on previous experiences, Garret recalled hoping the romance in Oscar wouldn’t be ambiguous. ‘Because I think that’s often been the safety net. Like it’s queer, but it’s not outright queer. So we can kind of get away with it if people are uncomfortable.’ With Oscar, though, there was no holding back. ‘This was just outright two guys kissing. It’s very erotic and sensual at times. It’s real.’

Garrett’s excitement rose when he was cast as Wilde’s younger lover, Lord Alfred Douglas – commonly known as ‘Bosie’. It was a dream role, not just because it would be Garrett’s first time exploring queer romance in a ballet, but also due to the complexity of Bosie’s character. ‘I did extra research to get more context, especially because he’s such a controversial figure, and some of his actions were pretty terrible,’ Garrett told me. ‘I ended up listening to a podcast about Bosie and Oscar’s relationship, and how everything unfolded from when they met to the end of Oscar’s life.’

Adam Elmes, another gay dancer who shares the role of Bosie, immersed himself in Wilde’s literary works and read a biography of Lord Alfred Douglas containing intimate letters that revealed his fraught personal life. A letter from Bosie’s father, the ninth Marquess of Queensberry, who was repulsed by Wilde’s homosexuality and Bosie’s connection to him, particularly resonated with Elmes. The letter ended with the words, ‘your disgusted so-called father’, which Elmes used to conjure his hurt and anger when meeting his on-stage father’s gaze.

It was evident from the extent of their character research that Elmes and Garrett were extremely passionate about portraying their roles authentically. I have heard grumblings from older generations of dancers to the effect that today’s youth are less artistic. Perhaps it’s not a lack of artistry, but rather a disconnect with the stories they are telling. Garrett agreed: ‘A lot of these fairytales feel outdated. They reflect societal and sociopolitical structures that no longer exist, or ones we no longer want to exist. Sometimes, you catch yourself thinking, “I wouldn’t act like this. This was clearly written by someone who doesn’t think like me.’’’

Unlike traditional fairytales, which often end with a neat boy-meets-girl resolution, even a ‘happy wedding’ act, Wheeldon’s Oscar embraced a more authentic messiness, something that felt truer to Elmes. Reflecting on his experience of working with the awarding-winning choreographer, Elmes was quick to praise Wheeldon’s intelligence and creative instincts. ‘Chris is incredibly intelligent and always has his fingers on the pulse – he knows exactly how he wants the piece to look, feel, and move,’ Elmes said. He noted how impressive it was that, at times, Christopher could come into rehearsal without a set plan, yet still guide the dancers to develop movement on the spot. ‘He would ask things like, “How can you lift her with your left arm” – which gave us, as dancers, the opportunity to contribute and really put a piece of ourselves into the choreography.’

The choreographer’s genius became even more apparent to the dancers once they moved into the theatre, where the full scope of Wheeldon’s vision came to life. ‘When we got into the theatre with all the costumes, sets, and props, it hit me – he had seen this full picture from the start. All we’d seen in the studio was the choreography, but he’d been thinking about the entire production the whole time.’

Another significant aspect of working on Oscar was navigating the dynamics of same-sex partnering; a new challenge for Garrett, who had only worked with female dancers performing traditional lifts and turns. ‘Often when you’re the partner doing the lifting, the other person just has to trust you, and you don’t necessarily need to trust the other person.’ Garrett said. ‘But in Oscar we were both partnering each other – it was really equal and reciprocal. We both had to learn to trust each other and be comfortable with that shift of weight, that exchange of roles.’

For Elmes, the freedom to move between roles typically assigned by gender – lifting or being lifted – felt both natural and liberating. ‘In ballet, you’re often cast as either the strong guy in the back or the beautiful one at the front, but I like being both.’

Playing Bosie afforded Elmes and Garrett the opportunity to explore softer, more fluid movement, an approach rarely encouraged for male ballet dancers. In a 2007 article, dance scholar Jennifer Fisher noted that the ballet world has often tried to combat stigma around male dancers by emphasising hyper-masculine portrayals, likening ballet to football or military training, highlighting its proximity to women, and pushing towards more ‘macho’ movement styles. These efforts, Fisher concluded, have failed to change public perceptions, instead reinforcing traditional ideas of masculinity.

‘I think I naturally move and feel in a softer, more sensitive way than what ballet often asks of a male dancer,’ Garrett acknowledged. ‘In this ballet, I got to embrace that, and to see that it was well received by audiences was amazing. It felt validating, especially as someone who has often questioned if I really fit into ballet. This experience felt like a big “yes”, and that was really special.’

Indeed, the audience response was overwhelmingly positive, with standing ovations and media buzz, rave reviews and feature articles appearing in Australian Book Review, the Guardian, The Sydney Morning Herald, and Arts Hub. What stood out most for Elmes was the diverse audience the production drew in, including many queer artists, drag queens in shimmering outfits, and people who don’t typically attend ballet performances. ‘Talking to them was really special, because even if they didn’t know much about ballet, they could feel how important this was. They loved seeing the story, and that meant the world to me.’

Elmes remembered a special moment during a Q&A session when he could communicate directly with the audience about what the role meant to him. ‘Someone asked what it’s like to play these characters, and I just told them – this means so much to me. I never thought I’d get to play a character who has felt the same feelings I have as a gay man.’

With the success of Oscar, Garrett hopes ballet companies will be encouraged to take more risks in presenting diverse stories. ‘There are so many stories out there that historically haven’t been able to be told or shown on stage for audiences. And I think the world deserves to see and hear them.’

Oscar will be performed at the Sydney Opera House from November 8 to 23, with a livestream option available via The Australian Ballet website.