LIVE REPORT: T(r)anssi @ Helsinki Opera
Fluidity in Movement
Helsingin Ooppera & Baletti; April 11th, 2025
Even though I consider myself 90% retired from music journalism, there’s always an occasional event that seems so interesting or unique that I need to check it out. From Kosmos Festival to the Tampere Philharmonic’s video game orchestra show and Classical Trancelations to the Tritium Show monthly raves, there’s always something fascinating going on in the music scene in Finland.
Most recently, a very talented otherworldly drum ‘n’ bass artist, Dj hapan korppu, celebrated joining LiveNation’s roster and, soon after, announced a partnership with the Helsinki Opera & Ballet for a show called T(r)anssi taking place from April 11th-May 15th, 2025. This marked the first time a DJ has collaborated with the Finnish National Ballet and performed in the foyer, making the event a low-key monumental occasion for the local arts scene.
Since most of the information was in Finnish, I had no clear idea what the event was but it seemed innovative, so I decided to check out the debut show on April 11th, 2025.
Image by Roosa Oksaharju
So, full disclosure? I’ve never been to the ballet before. Indeed, this was an entirely new experience for me. I have been to the opera once and I’ve seen many orchestral performances, but never a ballet, which is ultimately what T(r)anssi is.
What I learned was that the night would be divided into three segments, but in reality, it felt more like six. Dj hapan korppu was doing the etkot and jatkot [pre- and post-party], which gave the event a more unique flavor. Meanwhile, the main ballet featured three segments (and one interlude) from three different well-known choreographers.
When looking into them, I learned the following:
Sol Léon & Paul Lightfoot are a long-time creative duo from the Netherlands, most known for their work with the Nederlands Dans Theater. Their style is considered to be emotionally charged, theatrical, and visual.
William Forsythe is legendary for pushing contemporary ballet to its limits, with fragmented, precise, and intense movements that explore the limits of the body’s flow.
Sharon Eyal, then, is known for more ethereal, surreal, and disquieting choreography that merges bodies while simultaneously making them feel alien and unsettling.
Hanu Toivonen aka DJ Hapan Korppu
I have recently been running late to shows and causing myself extra stress, so I made a strong effort to be there early for this occasion, so that I wouldn’t be asthma-coughing and disturbing my neighbors throughout the performances.
I managed to arrive in good time before Dj hapan korppu’s pre-show set began, right in the opera house’s front entrance. I’ve only ever seen her live at Kosmos Festival before and she usually gets really good slots, which means she plays after midnight. I’m a very low-energy partier, so her high-energy sets—while entertaining as hell—often hit me at the exact wrong time of my daily energy cycle, so this was an amazing opportunity for me to see her performing during the old fogie hours that I generally keep.
The pre-show set was perfect to warm-up an audience for the ballet. It felt perfectly suited to the occasion, starting in a more aurally neutral, atmospheric, ambient manner, but gradually ascending into the higher-energy style that she’s more known for, culminating in some really vibrant rhythms and melodies by the time she finished. I loved this… it felt like she saw the event and location, and tailored the music perfectly for a space where people might both dress up and want to dance. I especially liked how she integrated the “go to your seats” tone in her set. Spot on, bravo, well done, no notes.
DJ Hapan Korppu, etkot
I waited until the DJ was finished before finding my way into the auditorium for the first choreography, from Sol Léon & Paul Lightfoot, which was also the only set to feature the orchestra. I was astounded to find myself in possibly the best seat I’ve ever been in at a show, so thanks to the organizers for that!
This was a really interesting performance for a few reasons. First, the stage had black panels that would both rise and drop, which they used to evocatively hide and reveal dancers. The use of light and sound was really intriguing, as the first glimpse of someone on stage was entirely without music. A personal highlight was the trippy effect created when three of the men in white lined up, creating a trailing delay that was mesmerizing.
This set involved six men and two women, all of whom showed off impressive mastery of body and form. There were many that felt adjacent or even far removed from contemporary ballet… almost more in-keeping with what I’m familiar with from poi- and fire-dancers, especially in the upper-body movements. The difference is the spectacular lower-body form as well—they certainly did things that poi dancers wouldn’t be able to, which shook up my preconceptions in a pleasantly unexpected way.
Their second piece introduced billowing, silky black curtains that eventually engulfed the dancers, while others performed duets in the spotlight. There was a lot of lifting and the performance gave them an effortless, weightless quality.
On the whole, this was a spectacular display of sharp, integrated movements and gentle, delicate flow, expertly executed.
After the first dance ended, the musicians cleared out of the pit and we watched an interlude dance video of William Forsythe himself—apparently he is known for including these.
As a piece of art on its own, it was really interesting. The use of lighting and visual effects was really lovely, moving through close-ups and aerial shots as it progressed. What was particularly unusual, however, was the use of sound. While intense violin lines came and went, the loudest part of the video was the squeaking of feet.
I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. I understand that Forsythe’s style fixates deeply on the body as a whole, so in that sense, the on and off music and squeaking feet make sense… but I often felt like the squeaking feet sounded more like basketball sneakers on a gym floor. The sounds didn’t seem like they necessarily matched the movements, and they often felt louder or more bountiful than would be reasonable for the dance. I have truly no idea that’s a misconception on my behalf, but it was thought-provoking nonetheless.
It’s also worth mentioning that, toward the end, there were some voices in the audio, but they were always more quiet than the breath or floor squeaks, so it was never clear what the words were.
Overall, the video made for a pleasant, artful bridge between the first and second acts and helped set some expectations for the performance to come…
The choreography that followed featured twelve men in outfits resembling rugby or American football uniforms, but clearly designed with flexibility and motion in mind. Often divided into groups of four, this was the most traditional ballet in movement, but not in execution. It also utilized far more modern music than I’d have ever expected to hear at the ballet, definitely steering the audience more towards the trance part of the evening.
If you enjoy sensational prances and leaps, this was an astonishing performance, magnificently executed. This was ballet at its most technically dazzling, with great sweeping prances and precision scissor kicks. Another highlight was the exaggerated slow-motion walks and runs as the “players” entered and exited the stage—they got a chuckle nearly every time. I confess, I really had to stop taking notes halfway through this piece because I was too entranced and didn’t want to look away. I thoroughly enjoyed it!
After Forsythe’s choreography was the intermission, a time often spent having a drink or a snack, but this time, we were further treated to four or so dancers in dramatic garb. They traveled between tiny, square-meter stages, each carrying palm-sized speakers playing music produced by hapan korppu.
Every time these dancers would pass one another, they would interact in a magnificently dramatic fashion. Otherwise, they behaved as though the crowd wasn’t there, weaving intricately between us—close enough that you could feel them brush past, but never looking you in the eye. It was deliciously surreal.
The final ballet performance was also the longest of the night, and what an unsettling event it was. First of all, when I looked up Sharon Eyal’s style, I got exactly what I had read about… weird, unsettling, pulsing bodies that mush together but never do exactly the same thing.
The segment began as if your eyes were adjusting to the darkness, as two vague figures slowly came into view. These women repeated simple movements under slowly increasing lights for a very long time (at least a hundred repetitions from the slower of the two), synced to a trance pulse. Some time before the dancers began to change their routine, a third entity slowly became visible in the background: a writhing mass of legs, moving as though they should be covering far more distance than they were.
Eventually, the original dancers were absorbed by the mass, though the one doing the traditional Jane Fonda aerobics move spent most of the performance doing just that. I was particularly fascinated by the juxtaposition of motions… they were quite haunted, jerky, at times invoking the feeling of possessed people or creatures from horror films. I found myself especially drawn to how the choreography utilized different heights to create layered textures, particularly when their forms merged.
It had an ethereal slow burn and I could see why this type of dance makes people uncomfortable without being able to pinpoint why. I did notice that the dancers seemed to be doing similar movements to one another when they scattered, but when they merged, the texture and shape was never symmetrical. It was a fascinating use of body and form, and certainly unexpected.
After the final curtain call, I was curious to see how many people would stay late for the afterparty, as well as what types of people. Would any of the more classical opera/ballet lovers stick around, or would it be the younger or artsier crowd that lingered?
Despite the remaining crowd seeming largely under 40, I was pleased to see that there were many older folks sticking around to experience something different, some of whom even dared to dance. Since the ballet was over, Dj hapan korppu wasn’t playing nice for the opera-goers anymore, dialing things up with her usual energy. Granted, she was mixing some popular pop songs in there—a nice move for the mainstream crowd—and still eased the audience in by starting a bit softer and gradually turning up the energy and intensity. It was nice to see a lot of people looking like they were trying something new and enjoying it!
Eventually, she started handing out stickers and people of all ages were flocking to the stage to get them. They really seemed to appreciate the show—I mean, for one, they were dancing! I’m used to stoic metalheads, so all the enthusiasm was a fun change of pace for me.
I haven’t seen many DJ sets in my day, but I have noticed a tendency for young Finnish DJs to be a bit boring to watch behind the booth, focusing on what they’re doing and forgetting to have fun in that traditional Finnish way. There have been a few exceptions to this rule over the years, and I was very pleased to see that hapan korppu was one of them, shifting between dancing and engaging with the crowd—friend and fan alike—while still doing her job like a seasoned pro.
Overall, this was a weird, wild, and wonderful evening of insanely talented professionals performing at their peak capacity. I can surely say that my first experience at the ballet was a positive one, and the Finnish National Ballet’s first experience with a DJ felt equally triumphant! If you’re a great lover of performance art, don’t miss out on this strange and spectacular fusion.
DJ Hapan Korppu, jatkot
Enjoy Bear’s writing? Consider joining her mailing list to keep up-to-date!
