Cover Image: Juan Carlos Osma in the promotional portrait for Belonging, highlighting the strength and presence he brings to the work. Photograph by Sergey Pevnev

Belonging.
Creator Performer Juan Carlos Osma.
Camelot Arts Theatre, 15 January 2026

Juan Carlos Osma, Principal Dancer with The West Australian Ballet, has staged his first independent production in the Camelot Theatre, built in the 1920s and remodelled to its Art Deco splendour in 1939. It’s a small theatre with a narrow stage built for Thespians and therefore needing some thinking about its capacity to contain the strong, tall, perfectly proportioned dancer Osma who it seems could power through the eye of a tornado should he so wish.

He has solved the problem by including a large video screen at the back of the stage which features a portable fan on one side and a tall industrial style lamp on the other. Between them is a metal structure resembling a bunk bed on the top of which Osma appears at times, sitting, elbow on knee, hand on jaw, legs dangling, feet lazily swinging, and facing the audience.

The Cuban-born Osma’s stated aim is to portray a journey he describes as “deeply personal exploring themes of doubt, difference and what it truly means to belong.”

The linear structure and circumspect with which Osma, with the seasoned eye of a director, describes his state of mind in the opening monologue sets up the scenario which follows depicting the struggle he endures.

We hear nothing about where he is, who his family is, of friends, of his neighbourhood; nor of his later triumphs in the ballet world where he appeared in many famous international venues including the Marinssky Theatre in Russia where he danced in a production called, aptly, Find Me. It’s not unreasonable to think that many would have been hard pressed not to include this validation but that Osma does not is evidence of his enviable story-telling ability to cut to the chase.

After the video Osma appears on the dark, prop-less stage ringed by lighting. This includes five spotlights ranged across the bottom of the back wall which at various times shine cones of ice[1]blue lighting upwards, cradling Osma in their beams. He begins to dance. With feeling of awe you watch him perform in a powerful choreography not often seen as he envelopes the space, descends to the floor, holds his prone body up with one arm and crumbles into himself. This intimate solo is followed by a wonderful duet with Alexa Tuzil (Principal Dancer with the WA Ballet.)

The superb quartet, Dolce Ensemble, stand on the side of the auditorium accompany Belonging with both classical and contemporary music including Beethovens String Quartet No.15 in A Minor and “This is my Beloved” from Kismet. 

In their central duet, in which the luminous Tuzil plays a help-meet to the anguished Osma, both display an effortless physical agility, immense strength and dramatic nous. The duet is in two parts – the first classical with Tuzil en pointe, and the second contemporary. As a prop the pair use a structure resembling a heavy frame for a non-existing mirror, through which they regard each other. 

As Tuzil removes her ballet shoes and top clothing before dancing the contemporary section she clasps her hands around Osma’s who stands on one side of the frame with his head bowed. Her hands on his and her presence seems to encourage him to look up and discard his own clothing, rather like a chrysalis. Their following eclectic and unrestrained duet is enthralling; as is Osma’s final solo, choreographically and structurally hitting the mark in its depiction of the realisation that difference is not a defect but a strength. 

A standing ovation confirmed this hypothesis. And I couldn’t help noticing that the men in the audience were the first to rise to their feet, ecstatic in their applause. Only one chance left to see Belonging – on Saturday – you wouldn’t want to miss it. It’s one of a kind and superb.