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Indonesian-Australian Juliet Burnett was born on Gadigal land (Sydney), and is one of Australia’s most recognised dancers after her years at The Australian Ballet, where she performed numerous principal roles in both classical and contemporary works. After 13 years there she left to pursue a diverse freelance career, before joining the Opera Ballet Vlaanderen in Belgium directed by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui.
In 2022 she returned to Australia as a freelance artist, and is based on Kombumerri-Yugambeh country (Gold Coast). In 2022, Juliet founded A__PART, a non-profit platform connecting Australian and Indonesian artists and communities.
Since 2016 Juliet has been building a practice as a dance creator, increasingly curious in interrogations into her cultural identity and the possibility of creating new languages through a confluence of art forms. Juliet’s work in Indonesia includes performance, master classes and in 2015 founding a series of community workshops for underprivileged children in collaboration with Ballet.Id and the Australian Embassy in Jakarta.
Juliet has also worked as an actor, in Indonesian director Garin Nugroho’s silent movie ‘Samsara’ (2024) and in a play adaptation of ‘Petroesjka’ for the Royal Concertgebouw, Amsterdam.
Juliet has trained in Javanese classical dance, and other traditional Indonesian dances and art forms including the martial art of Pencak Silat. In 2021, she was the winner of the Arts and Culture category of the 40 Under 40 Most Influential Asian-Australian Awards.
Juliet Burnett: Yes it has! In terms of classical ballet, I sort of fell into it. My childhood ballet school was just down the road, and my mum was a new mum in a new country, figuring out ways to fit in and what the Australian cultural norms were, having come from Indonesia. That’s how it all started, and look what happened.
My mum was curious to see if either of her daughters had any latent artistic blood from her bloodline, as her mother was a traditional Javanese dancer. Eventually, I was taking private lessons and then full-time ballet, then before I knew it I was accepted into The Australian Ballet School and then The Australian Ballet company.
It was during my mid to late twenties, after being in the company for about six or seven years, that I had a mini existential crisis, as many dancers in company environments do. That’s when I asked the artistic director, David McAllister, if I could take some time to go to Indonesia as I felt a calling. I had been awarded the Khitercs Hirai Foundation travelling scholarship, which I used to do secondments with the Royal Ballet, the Dutch National Ballet, San Francisco Ballet, and Opera Ballet Vlaanderen. When I returned, I felt the need for something more. Hence, I returned to Indonesia, where I took Javanese dance lessons, the art of my grandmother.
The similarities, shared values, and royal court origins between Classical Javanese dance and classical ballet became very clear. This experience not only clarified why I subconsciously chose ballet but was also a pivotal moment that steered me towards the next steps in my career. It also reassured me that dance was part of my identity - I mean, it’s part of my bloodline. It gave me a huge boost for the remainder of my career, which I still attribute to my career longevity.
After a few more years with The Australian Ballet, I left to pursue my love for contemporary dance. I freelanced in Australia and then went to Europe to audition for a few companies. I got a contract at Opera Ballet Vlaanderen under Sidi Larbi Cherakoui, who is not only an amazing artist that I was keen to work with, but also had some great repertory from Pina Bausch to Forsythe to Akram Khan. This experience solidified the second chapter of my dancing career.
Now, I'm back home after six years in Europe, freelancing and making my own work. I'm increasingly autonomous, finding my voice, and collaborating across art forms. I’ve been doing a lot of work in Indonesia. All sorts of things have landed on my plate. I have this burning insatiability which is both a blessing and a curse.
I always knew that my own artistic identity would be informed by many art forms. As a creator, I'm interested in exploring where dance can coalesce with other art forms and cultures. As someone who is always open to new experiences and challenges, I've found that adaptability is key. Whether it's picking up a new role an hour before the curtain rises or transitioning between contemporary dance and classical ballet, adaptability is all about the openness of your mind.
I tend to just launch myself into things, and I think my career has been better for it. That also goes for the kind of people I’m open to working with; for example, right now, I'm working on a project with a metal musician and a visual artist, due to premiere next year. I get really excited by getting into something new and challenging. I guess because I’m open to it all, I can be as versatile as possible.
Juliet: My cousin Naomi Srikandi, who is a playwright and director in Indonesia, helped me out - she's very well-connected in the arts industry there. I told her I wanted to learn our grandmother's dance and possibly other Javanese dances. She arranged for me to meet Bu Rusini, who is considered a guru of Javanese dance.
Bu Rusini insisted that I meet her in her studio in Solo, a city an hour and a half away from where we were staying in Yogyakarta, because she wanted to make sure I was genuinely interested and actually Indonesian, not just another tourist seeking an exotic experience. She wanted to make sure I was legit, basically. So Mum and I packed some of my cousins into the car and went to meet Bu Rusini, taking along some of my ballet programs. She must have approved because after a while she said, “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow!”
The art and culture there is so intrinsic to daily life that it becomes a sacred, spiritual aspect of it. With the dance of my grandmother the Bedaya Ketawang, for instance, I was told by the guru that I couldn't learn it as I hadn't been anointed by the Sultan, unlike my grandmother who was the Sultan's dancer. To dance Bedaya Ketawang, you have to undergo a strict fasting ceremony and live and train within the palace walls. Still, she taught me a dance of the same style. The experience was truly incredible. She taught me how to stand in a relaxed first position, with the knees slightly bent. I had a sarong wrapped around me in a traditional way, where it comes up around the torso, so it was kind of like being in a tutu corset. It’s a very lyrical, adagio-like dance. So although there were very familiar aspects to it, there was something foreign about it too. But as soon as we started moving, I felt completely at home in my body. Almost more than when I danced ballet. It was an epiphany moment.
Things like the musicality and the way the head is held atop the spine are similar to ballet. Bu Rusini taught me the basic moves, the mudras of the hands. She complimented my very Javanese hands, which thrilled me. We worked together for a week, and by the end, she had taught me a solo. We've kept in touch, and I did more training with her a few years later. She's a very special woman, beautiful and inspiring, like an old ballerina of yesteryear. The feeling of landing home in my own body was very strange and amazing. It was really life changing.
I always knew that my own artistic identity would be informed by many art forms.
Juliet: We’re definitely on the right path. There's so much more awareness about the steps needed to increase accessibility, such as practical measures and bottom-up initiatives, starting from making classes more standardised. In Australia, for instance, there's a challenge with standardising ballet training for youngsters, which can lead to problems like abuses of power. I don't teach kids, but I know this is an issue.
Today, one of the biggest obstacles is the expense. Life is expensive now, we’re basically in an economic crisis, and ballet will often be one of the first things that gets cut from the family budget. I hear from parents who have to choose between ballet and other activities like piano or soccer. There is a lack of resources and accessibility at the grassroots level which we need to address. I am also well aware of the issues arising within elite institutions, from ballet schools to ballet companies. One of the biggest things we need to consider is the cost of attending a ballet performance. For a family, it can cost nearly $500 for a night out at the ballet, which not many people can afford. We need to consider how to make ballet more accessible for audience members.
There are measures being taken worldwide - I believe the Royal Ballet is still doing their last-minute £10 tickets. However, there needs to be a massive shift in the mindset of the industry. There is a lot happening in the world, from the pandemic and Black Lives Matter to the Ukraine war and the situation in Palestine. These events are wake-up calls for humanity. Collectively, you do see even those who are resistant to change being inspired to take action. But the ballet industry is typically disconnected from these issues.
Within the ballet industry, change is often slow due to its status as a heritage art form typically run by big opera houses connected to royal families or governments. The industry is not keeping up with the rest of the world. Dancers often have to embody very old-fashioned ballets with harmful stereotypes, and the hierarchy of a ballet company is obsolete. I’ve never seen the purpose of such a hierarchical system - I think a more horizontal, collective, democratic system would provide each employee with a sense of autonomy and purpose, one that better serves the art. The current structure was put in place in imperial Russia in the 19th century and no longer serves our needs.
Having said that, I don’t consider myself a massive radical and am not advocating for the cancellation of all traditional ballets. I love ballet and want it to thrive, but we need to think about how we can modernise it so it doesn't disillusion audiences. There are ways to present the classics in a way that suits today's audiences, but we cannot begin this conversation if the hierarchy - and the desire to reproduce the traditional repertoire just as it is - still exists.
Juliet: Absolutely. And we need to address industry practice. Ted Brandsen at Dutch National Ballet, for instance, brings together different dance leaders in a symposium to discuss the future of dance and evolving practices, which is great to see.
We're on the right track. People are becoming aware of the need for diverse representation, with dancers of different backgrounds performing various roles. Trans and non-binary dancers performing female roles is now a reality, which would have seemed radical even ten years ago.
We need to approach changes to traditional ballets delicately but urgently, because you’re asking dancers to inhabit these roles when they’re not necessarily comfortable with it. As a woman of half Asian descent, I've felt the pain of being misrepresented on stage. I've seen Taiwanese dancers forced to apply yellow face for the Chinese roles in Nutcracker. That has actually happened in the time period of my career, in this century. It’s unfathomable.
Also, there exists a culture of submission in ballet companies that needs addressing. It's not just about what the audience wants to see, but also about the dancers who feel forced to perform these roles. Even dancers without the racial background represented might feel the discomfort. Dancers are aware and engaged in the world; especially with social media, information is at our fingertips. We have to question whether we want to be complicit in perpetuating harmful stereotypes that are ultimately harming our dancers.
It's not like viewing artwork in a gallery that belongs to a certain time. Yes, the ballet is from a different era, but we're asking present-day dancers to perform it. I don't think the audience is aware of this - we see debates raging online about “cancel culture” and traditionalists wishing to “leave the classics alone”, but they’re not stopping to consider the artists who have to deliver these ballets, and how representing such archaic ideals can cause harm. We can still have tradition, but being a living and breathing art form encompassing live performance, we must also evolve. We need to address this issue with delicacy and patience, but also urgency, because there are plenty of dancers who have been adversely affected by working in a system where they felt voiceless.
Juliet: The change must come from the top. There needs to be a global shift in the culture of classical ballet companies. A dancer who stands up for what they believe in or voices an opinion should not be treated as a troublemaker, but encouraged to share their perspective.
This can at least lead to a conversation. Regardless of whether a director agrees or not, a dialogue should be initiated. The dialogue of art should not only be between artists and audience, but amongst artists themselves, creating a collaborative environment. It's just not interesting when a choreographer comes in and just tells the dancers what to do. No one’s really doing that anymore. Rather, they're interested in casting dancers who bring something extra, who have something to say when they dance. Likewise, artistic directors hire choreographers who have something to say in their creations. No one is making work merely because it’s pretty anymore. They're making work because it carries meaning, or shares a new idea. This vibrancy is crucial in an era when there's so much entertainment competing with us. So, the change must come from the top, and it’s got to be a universal agreement amongst directors that this is what we’re going to do to change our systems, in order to encourage autonomy, individuality and vigorous, thinking artists with substance. This will only feed the art form itself.
Our system needs a massive overhaul. If dancers feel so subordinate that they can't speak out without fear of penalty, whether it's not being cast and feeling overlooked or speaking up about a particular workplace issue, there is clearly and inherently a problem with that system. Dancers should not feel like they are going to be penalised for expressing a grievance. Reflecting on my own career, I recall times when I was essentially told to keep quiet. If I hadn't been quite open and optimistic, I probably would have given up and walked away from this industry (which is largely resistant to change or thinking collectively) long ago. However, I’m hopeful - that might be silly, but I'm hopeful. I think about my colleagues around my age, those transitioning from dancing into management or directorship roles. I can't think of any who wouldn't agree that the system needs changing.
It's widely perceived that a ballet career is tough, competitive, and often leads to mental health issues. If that’s the public perception then that’s not good. While it's not as dramatic as that, the reality is there are many unhappy dancers. There are also many happy ones, as we're paid to do what we love, but the exploitative notion that dancers should keep quiet because they're privileged to do what they love is flawed. This outdated mindset needs to go - it can no longer form the foundation of our culture. We have a lot of work to do, but I'm quite determined to see that through.
An artistic director once said to me that the most dangerous mindset is "this is how it's always been." It’s the most dangerous way to think, not just in life, but especially in art. Art is supposed to be vibrant and alive.
Juliet: I love this program. It was difficult during the worst parts of the pandemic, so we're planning to restart it as part of my new organisation, A_PART. The “Ballet Goes To” program will transition there and focus more on community outreach across different art forms. It involves bringing various arts practitioners to communities for cultural exchange, or an exchange of ideas within the same culture.
This program has taught me that these kids are incredibly special. They are so eager to receive the energy and efforts of someone who has a career they can aspire to. I think kids generally love to be transported to another place, and they’ve got these incredible imaginations - I love it. My job as someone who is coming in to communicate with them is to enhance that imagination.
This work is particularly important for children born into marginalised circumstances. The living conditions I've witnessed have deeply affected me. As a child, I used to ask my parents about the shanty towns we saw while driving from the airport in Jakarta. They explained the harsh reality of the situation, which has been on my mind ever since. So it meant a lot to me to go there when I felt like I could give something back - it’s very special. I was adamant that it wasn’t just going to be a photo opportunity or anything like that; I wanted it to be an exchange. They also performed some of their local village dances for me, and we had a ballet lesson. The following year, the organisation I was working with, Ballet ID, raised money to buy ballet shoes for the children. They also continued to teach ballet every week. So it’s a sustained and meaningful effort rather than a tokenistic thing of “look at how benevolent this half-Western woman is.”
The experience has taught me the importance of what I do and the connections we make, and how cultural and religious boundaries are often learned and perceived rather than real. At the heart of it all, we're all the same. We all dream of a better world, we want to connect with one another, we want to be friends, to love, to cry, and to eat delicious food. The thing that struck me the most was how unifying it was.
I did a couple of other workshops over the following years, but then COVID hit and we haven’t done it again since, but we are working on it. What is very sad about this particular community in Ciliwung I worked with, is that the local government came in and bulldozed it a year after I was there. It was awful - I cried for days. The residents were dispersed to different small communities around Jakarta. So I can’t visit them as a community any longer, which is incredibly sad, but in the future, I want to work with Ballet ID and the Australian Embassy in Jakarta, who have been very supportive, to see how we can build on what we started. Under A_PART, the program will expand to include different art forms. A dancer who worked with me on the most recent community workshop in Banten, outside of Jakarta, will assist with the organisation of future workshops under A_PART in a program called OUR_PART.
I love ballet and want it to thrive, but we need to think about how we can modernise it so it doesn't disillusion audiences.
Juliet: It’s really still in its fledgling stages. It’s taken a while because I’ve had no time to really knuckle down and get going, but I wanted to have it set up. My intention was to start off with community fundraising initiatives through Patreon. Although it hasn't been entirely successful, it was a starting point that provided enough resources to produce a short film.
At present, I'm preparing to release a film I made with a friend in Byron Bay two years ago. We're also exploring how to incorporate existing films and works into A_PART as a non-profit platform. We’ll be shifting models slightly and it’s still very much a work in progress. As we're in grant application season, I'm concentrating on securing funds for these projects.
My aim was to create a foundation that could act as a blueprint for a real-life dance company, with a core set of values that could be built upon and expanded. At the moment, it exists online, and once we do the community workshops, it will journey into the real world. Also, the creation of new work is going to be a key thing for us, particularly focusing on collaborations between Indonesian and Australian artists. I inhabit the role of producer and coordinate different artists for collaboration. We've produced two short films to date. The first was remotely produced in Indonesia and features Javanese dancer Razan Wirjosandjojo, while the second, featuring a First Nations dancer Yolanda Lowatta, was filmed on a Sydney beach by a group of skilled friends in the industry. These films serve to show what A_PART is going to be about.
Juliet: It’s so hard. I often think about this, particularly because I spent 20 years in a company environment, receiving a regular paycheck and enjoying other comforts that are important for freedom. It’s really annoying that money is important - I hate it so much. I think the biggest anomaly in my life is that I have to chase money all the time to try and make my dreams a reality and have the freedom to create what I want.
I know dancers who have stayed in companies for over 20 years and I take my hat off to them. It's not strange or abnormal to want to stay in such environments. It's actually a tremendous accomplishment because it requires tenacity and other admirable qualities, which I also possess, but I'm also restless and could never see myself staying in one company for too long. I lasted at The Australian Ballet for 13 years, which says a lot about my internal struggle between wanting to leave the comfort zone and the fear of doing so.
Particularly for women in the dance industry, when you hit 30, you start thinking differently about your body and what you want to do with your life. For me, it was less about that and more about the industry's expectations. I was told by directors in Europe that I was too old to seek another job, which shocked me. I was only 31.
The main thing I would say is that if you've been in a large dance or ballet company, you will land on your feet because you’ve already done the hardest work in getting there. The workload, the training, and the amount of shows - if you can do that, you must have incredible tenacity and fortitude. So you already have the qualities necessary for a freelance career, and the rest is about opening your mind up to other ways of living and working. For instance, I never thought I'd enjoy teaching, but I do. I teach private lessons and full-timers, which helps me pay my bills. If you've been dancing in a company for a long time, you already have the mental strength required for a freelance career. It's about finding ways to tweak those skills and apply them elsewhere, like writing grant applications, producing new work, or reaching out to choreographers you want to work with. It will be hard, but you'll always land on your feet.
Juliet: When I graduated from the Australian Ballet School, I had already secured a contract with The Australian Ballet. Honestly, I didn't anticipate staying long because I had my eyes on London, and really wanted to go to the Royal Ballet.
I guess it’s that perennial question that we all have - what would my life look like if I had chosen a different path? What would have happened if I had pursued my initial plan two years into my career? I'm not the type to stick to five-year plans. I generally go with the flow. So, what might my life have been? I can't say for sure. What would 18-year-old Juliet's opinion be? I think she would be surprised that I stuck with dance for such a long time. As a child, I aspired to be a vet or an architect.
It's remarkable that I'm still dancing. I don’t think I ever thought I would create. I used to love creating as a teenager, I used to take part in lots of choreography awards. It's only in the past five years or so that that urge to create has resurfaced. That would probably be surprising for my younger self.
I think young Juliet would be proud of me. I hope so, anyway.
Top image by Dani Huda
