Saturday Matinee

Tomasson’s Haffner Symphony
Renato Zanella’s Underskin
Ratmansky’s Russian Seasons

Lorena Feijoo and Pascal Molat in Zanella's Underskin. © Erik Tomasson

San Francisco Ballet’s Program 6 was an important one for the company, despite looking like the calm program before the storm before its grand finale of Tomasson’s Romeo and Juliet that will close out the season. It included yet another world premiere built on the company by choreographer Renato Zanella – would it be appropriate to call him up and coming? His work is mainly been Europe-centered with occasional forays elsewhere, and his name is new to my ears. It also reprised a recent (and important) acquisition of Ratmansky’s Russian Seasons, and performed a Tomasson piece that hadn’t been performed in many years.

Zanella’s Underskin is said to have been inspired by the mystique of San Francisco Ballet dancers. Swathed in darkness, a centerpiece of beams angling from the floor to the ceiling moved slowly throughout the piece, wavering and glinty in the low light. The piece opened with a soloist, Jennifer Stahl, dressed in a dark shimmery unitard, slithery and undulating with drama. With sky high extensions and remarkable fluidity, this role called for the ability to stun with a turn of a head and a dark look. This height of drama wasn’t quite achieved, but there were glimpses of Stahl’s potential to grow into such a dancer with that kind of presence. She will definitely be one to watch. Three couples weaved in and out, in addition to a corps of dancers in this mood piece, moving to the sighs and cries of Schoenberg’s unpredictable and moody Verklarte Nacht. The duet with Maria Kochetkova and Pascal Molat was a tumble of turbulent struggle and fury. Jaime Garcia Castilla and Courtney Elizabeth were sweetly melancholy, Castilla with velvety extensions and jumps that lingered in the air. Chung and Wharton were a mesmerizing partnership as they breathed as one, bewitching the audience with unbridled intensity. The corps of men were particularly striking, with a weight that permeated throughout the piece. Even their arms had weight, as they powered through the air. Zanella captured the company’s sense of drama and power in an impressive display of both their soloists and their corps who danced in breathtaking unison.

Sofiane Sylve and Pierre-François Vilanoba in Ratmansky's Russian Seasons. © Erik Tomasson

I missed Ratmansky’s Russian Seasons last year due to a last minute replacement due to dancer injury, but I’m really glad that I got to see it this year. With this piece, you see Ratmansky honoring Russia and the qualities of its people. The stories that he tells onstage are of peasants, with hunched shoulders and the heavy burden of strife countered with an irrespressible spirit that refuses to die. Camaraderie pervades throughout the piece, with people talking and acknowledging each other. I’m so used to watching such dance stories of peasants swathed in rags and hats – very literally – but Ratmansky brilliantly frames the piece in the unexpected world of the abstract. With dancers in bright primary colors and a simple background and nothing more than decorative headgear, Ratmansky tells these provincial stories and themes with pure movement. Balletic brises with an upward center of gravity are mixed with tantrum stomps of oppression; this mix of weight and ebullience speaks of hope in the midst of hardship. Elana Altman was compelling in sleek lines and dramatic angles in her solo set to the melancholy cries of mezzo soprano Susannah Poretsky in the music of Leonid Desyatnikov’s Russian Seasons. There was sadness in Lorena Feijoo’s entire being of the woman who later reappears, seemingly resurrected, in white and a white flower wreath on her head. This piece may have been a tad too despondent for some (I think one reviewer had compared it to life in the gulag), but I was pleasantly surprised by its provincial storytelling in the modern packaging of the bright abstract and a remarkable quickness in its movement vocabulary.

Vanessa Zahorian in Tomasson's "Haffner" Symphony. © Erik Tomasson

Tomasson’s neoclassical Haffner Symphony was pleasant and regal, with a distinguished use of space in the placement of dancers around the stage. The use of negative space between the dancers, in one instance by placing two dancers upstage left and one far downstage right, spoke of an airy spaciousness in a royal garden with a backdrop of flowers with sets and costumes by Santo Loquasto. Tomasson’s elegant use of space is inconsistent however, as in several moments dancers squeeze by each other uncomfortably as a line of dancers move past another. Gennadi Nedvigin wowed the audience with crisp lines and soft landings, but clearly the realm was Maria Kochetkova’s playground, coloring her lightning quick feet with a softness and gentility. Clearly she was a reigning queen where everyone else were occasional visitors, and it was a marvel to watch her and the other dancers at play.

San Francisco Ballet’s website. Only one more program left for this season! Romeo and Juliet starts on May 1.

Lorena Feijoo and Pascal Molat in Forsythe's Artifact Suite. © Erik Tomasson

Below is the season announcement for San Francisco Ballet’s 2011 season. Pieces to look out for – Giselle, McGregor’s Chroma to the music of White Stripes, Forsythe’s Artifact Suite, and Balanchine’s Coppelia, a co-produciton with Pacific Northwest Ballet, and world premieres by Possohkov and Wheeldon.

What are you looking forward to?

SAN FRANCISCO BALLET ANNOUNCES 2011 REPERTORY SEASON

HIGHLIGHTS INCLUDE THE NEW CO-PRODUCTION & SF BALLET PREMIERE

OF GEORGE BALANCHINE’S COPPÉLIA; WORLD PREMIERES BY POSSOKHOV  & WHEELDON; PLUS THE RETURN OFGISELLE & THE LITTLE MERMAID

SF Ballet Honors 100^th Anniversary of Fokine’s Petrouchka
With an Encore Presentation

SAN FRANCISCO, Wednesday, April 21, 2010—San Francisco Ballet, the oldest professional ballet company in America, has announced the repertory and performance schedule for its 78th Repertory Season. SF Ballet’s 2011 Repertory Season will include the presentation of three full-length works, including a new production of George Balanchine’s Coppélia, co-produced with Pacific Northwest Ballet (PNB). The production will have its PNB premiere in June 2010 and will be a Company premiere for SF Ballet in March 2011.

The 2011 season also includes two world premieres by Christopher Wheeldon and SF Ballet Choreographer in Residence Yuri Possokhov, as well as two SF Ballet premieres by Sir Kenneth MacMillan and Wayne McGregor. In addition, the season includes works by acclaimed choreographers such as Sir Frederick Ashton, George Balanchine, Michel Fokine, William Forsythe, John Neumeier, Helgi Tomasson, and Renato Zanella.

The 2011 Repertory Season will begin with Nutcracker, which runs December 9 through 27, 2010 for a total of 30 performances. Following the Opening Night Gala on Wednesday, January 26, 2011, the season will consist of eight programs performed in alternating repertory, from January 29 to May 7.

“In programming the 2011 season, I wanted not only to highlight the depth and breadth of the Company’s talent, but also to offer our audiences a wide array of programming to choose from,” said SF Ballet Artistic Director & Principal Choreographer Helgi Tomasson. “I am particularly delighted that the Company will offer the San Francisco Ballet premiere of George Balanchine’s Coppélia; a work that is very special to me since I performed the role of Franz in the original version of Balanchine’s production.”

2011 Repertory Season Overview

Program 1 opens Saturday, January 29 and features the return of Tomasson’s renowned full-length classic Giselle. Tomasson’s production, which premiered in 1999, was hailed by the San Francisco Chronicle as “Tomasson’s finest achievement.” The two-act production features scenic, costume, and lighting design by Mikael Melbye. Set to the music of Adolphe Adam, the work was first performed by the Paris Opéra Ballet, in 1841, with original choreography by Jean Coralli and Jules Perrot and later, Marius Petipa. SF Ballet last performed the full production on its American Tour in 2008.

The 1999 world premiere of Helgi Tomasson’s Giselle was underwritten by The Hellman Family, The Edward E. Hills Fund, Lucy and Fritz Jewett, and an anonymous donor, in honor of Chris Hellman. This project was made possible, in part, by a grant from the National Dance Residency Program (NDRP), a program underwritten by The Pew Charitable Trusts and administered at the New York Foundation for the Arts.

Program 2 opens Thursday, February 3 with Ashton’s Symphonic Variations, a world premiere by Possokhov (his 13th work for the Company, including gala works and the co-production of Don Quixote with Tomasson), and the return of Balanchine’s Symphony in C. Ashton’s Symphonic Variations, a plotless ballet for six dancers, premiered in 1946 by the Sadler’s Wells (now Royal) Ballet at London’s Royal Opera House. Set to music by César Franck, the work had its SF Ballet premiere in 2004, and was last performed by the Company in 2005. Balanchine’s Symphony in C, set to the music of Georges Bizet, was premiered in 1947 by the Paris Opéra Ballet. SF Ballet first performed the 23-minute piece in 1961, and most recently, in 2007.

Program 3 opens Thursday, February 24 with the encore performance of Possokhov’s Classical Symphony, and the return of Tomasson’s Nanna’s Lied and Forsythe’s Artifact Suite. Possokhov’s Classical Symphony, set to the music of Sergei Prokofiev, had its world premiere during the 2010 Repertory Season and was inspired by ballet history and Possokhov’s own classical Russian ballet training. Tomasson’s Nanna’s Lied was premiered by the Company in 1993, and portrays the dramatic tale of a young woman’s loss of innocence. The work was last performed by the Company in 2003, and is set to the songs of Kurt Weill and Friedrich Hollaender. Forsythe’s Artifact Suite was premiered by the Scottish Ballet under the title Suite from Artifact in 2004. Two years later, SF Ballet presented the U.S. premiere of the work, set to the music of Johann Sebastian Bach and Eva Crossman-Hecht. The full work was last performed during the 2007 Repertory Season.

Program 4 opens Friday, February 25 with the return of Balanchine’s Theme and Variations, the SF Ballet Premiere of MacMillan’s Winter Dreams,and another work to be announced. Balanchine’s Theme and Variations, for 26 dancers, was premiered in 1947 by Ballet Theatre and is set to the music of Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky. The work was most recently performed by SF Ballet during its 2010 Repertory Season. MacMillan created a pas de deux in 1991, for Darcey Bussell and Irek Mukhamedov, which was performed at the Queen Mother’s 90th Birthday Tribute. This pas de deux became part of the one-act ballet Winter Dreams (based on Anton Chekhov’s Three Sisters), which was subsequently filmed for television and broadcast on the BBC in 1992. Set to piano pieces by Tchaikovsky, this dramatic work explores the characters melancholy with their present existence in a Russian provincial town, at the turn of the 20th century.

Program 5 opens Saturday, March 19 with the SF Ballet Premiere of Balanchine’s Coppélia, a co-production with Pacific Northwest Ballet. The popular, comedic ballet, set to a score by Leo Délibes, was first performed by the Paris Opéra Ballet in 1870, with original choreography by Arthur Saint-Léon. In 1939, SF Ballet presented the first production of Coppélia choreographed by an American choreographer (Willam Christensen). The production centers on two lovers, Swanilda and Franz. A life-like doll, Coppélia, becomes the focus of Franz’s affections until Swanilda tricks him by dressing up and pretending to be the doll. The ballet ends festively with Swanilda and Franz reuniting for a joyous wedding day celebration. This new production of Balanchine’s Coppélia from 1974, includes commissioned scenery and costumes by Italian designer Roberta Guidi di Bagno.

The San Francisco Ballet premiere of George Balanchine’s Coppélia is made possible by Maurice Kanbar, Glenn Kawasaki, Dan & Pam Baty, and Sharon Richardson.

Program 6 opens Thursday, April 7 with the return of Tomasson’s 7 for Eight, the encore presentation of Wheeldon’s Ghosts, and the SF Ballet Premiere of McGregor’s Chroma. Tomasson’s acclaimed 7 for Eight, which was premiered by SF Ballet in 2004, is set to the music of Johann Sebastian Bach. Called “stunning” upon its premiere by the San Francisco Chronicle, the work for eight dancers was last performed by the Company during its 2008 Repertory Season. Wheeldon’s Ghosts, which premiered during SF Ballet’s 2010 Repertory Season, is set to a commissioned score by C.F. Kip Winger. The New York Times called the work “ethereal and substantial.” McGregor’s Chroma is set to the music of The White Stripes, arranged by Joby Talbot and orchestrated by Christopher Austin. Created for The Royal Ballet, the work premiered in 2006 and was McGregor’s first work for the company as resident choreographer. McGregor’s Chroma received a number of awards in 2007, including a Laurence Olivier Award for best new dance production, as well as a Critics’ Circle National Dance Award for best classical choreography.

Program 7 opens Friday, April 8 with the return of Fokine’s Petrouchka, Zanella’s Underskin, and a world premiere by Christopher Wheeldon, his seventh work for SF Ballet. SF Ballet first performed Petrouchka, set to the music of Igor Stravinsky, during the 2010 Repertory Season. Originally performed by the Ballets Russes in 1911, the work depicts a dramatic tale of a Russian puppet with a human soul. This season’s presentation ofPetrouchka marks the 100^th anniversary of the ballet’s creation. Zanella’s Underskin, set to the music of Arnold Schoenberg, premiered during the Company’s 2010 Repertory Season.

From The Hellman Family in honor of Patricia C. Hellman, also known as “Patrichka,” a former professional ballet dancer and soloist with the London Festival Ballet.

Program 8 opens Saturday, April 30 with the encore presentation of Hamburg Ballet Director and Chief Choreographer John Neumeier’s The Little Mermaid, set to the commissioned music of Lera Auerbach. The full-length work was originally commissioned by the Royal Danish Ballet, in celebration of the 200^th anniversary of Hans Christian Andersen’s birth. Neumeier’s modern and mature interpretation presents the parallels between the fairy tale and the story of its creator. The production premiered in 2005, and features scenic, costume, and lighting design by Neumeier. During the 2010 Repertory Season, the Company presented the U.S. premiere of the work with a week-long run, to sold-out houses.

The 2010 United States premiere of The Little Mermaid was made possible by the generosity of Lead Sponsors Richard C. Barker and the E.L. Wiegand Foundation, and by Major Sponsors Suzy Kellems Dominik, Jennifer Caldwell and John H.M. Fisher, Stephen and Margaret Gill Family Foundation, Alison and Michael Mauzé, and Sponsor Gail and Robert Smelick.

During the 2011 Repertory Season, the Company will perform a total of 56 standard subscription performances. Tuesday and Thursday through Saturday evening performances are at 8pm; Wednesday evening performances are at 7:30pm; Saturday and Sunday matinees are at 2pm. The SF Ballet Orchestra will accompany all programs.

With Special Thanks

American Airlines is the Preferred Airline of San Francisco Ballet.

William Hill ® Estate Winery and La Marca™ Prosecco are the featured wine and sparkling wine of San Francisco Ballet.

“Meet the Artist” Interviews and “Pointes of View” Lecture Series

SF Ballet will continue to present the entertaining and informative “Meet the Artist” series, held in conjunction with the opening night of each program, as well as all Friday evening and Sunday matinee performances. The 30-minute interviews with Company artists, management, and guests of SF Ballet begin one hour prior to performance, and all ticket holders are invited to attend free of charge. In addition, SF Ballet will present eight “Pointes of View” lectures during the season, on select Wednesday evenings. Each lecture will focus on the program to be performed that evening and is free and open to the public. For more information, call Ticket Services at 415.865.2000.

Subscription Tickets

Three, five, and eight program subscription packages to SF Ballet’s 2011 Repertory Season range in price from $49-3,800 and are on sale to the public now. For information, please call Ticket Services at 415.865.200o or visit sfballet.org. Phone hours are Monday through Friday, 10am to 4pm.

Single Tickets

Individual tickets for SF Ballet’s 2011 Repertory Season, starting at $20, will be available for advance sale online at sfballet.org beginning November 17 or by calling 415.865.2000, starting January 10.

San Francisco Ballet

As America’s oldest professional ballet company and one of the three largest ballet companies in the United States, San Francisco Ballet has enjoyed a long and rich tradition of artistic “firsts” since its founding in 1933. It performed the first American productions of Swan Lake and Nutcracker, as well as the first production of Coppélia choreographed by an American choreographer. Guided in its early years by American dance pioneers and brothers Lew, Willam, and Harold Christensen, San Francisco Ballet currently presents more than 100 performances a year locally, nationally, and abroad. Under the direction of Helgi Tomasson for twenty-five years, the Company has achieved an international reputation as one of the preeminent ballet companies in the world. In 2005, San Francisco Ballet won the prestigious Laurence Olivier Award, its first, in the category of “Outstanding Achievement in Dance,” and a year later, was the first non-European company elected “Company of the Year” in Dance Europe magazine’s annual readers’ poll. In 2008, San Francisco Ballet celebrated its 75^th anniversary with a host of initiatives that included a New Works Festival of 10 world premieres by 10 renowned choreographers. 2010 marks the 25^th anniversary of SF Ballet Artistic Director Helgi Tomasson’s tenure with the Company.

Damian Smith and Katita Waldo in Wheeldon's Rush. © Erik Tomasson

Program 7 at the San Francisco Ballet was all about the pretty. After the alien exoticism of the Little Mermaid, this program was a welcome breath of fresh air to San Francisco audiences eager to watch what San Francisco Ballet does best. Two out of the three pieces in Program 7 were created for the SF Ballet, including a world premiere of Possohkov’s Classical Symphony. There’s nothing like the sense of organic flow that comes from a piece built around the strengths of the company. The adoring audience seemed to relish the idea that no other company can perform these pieces like SF Ballet, and it was thrilling to watch.

Kristin Long and Pascal Molat in Wheeldon's Rush. © Erik Tomasson

Christopher Wheeldon’s Rush was a rush of adrenaline, personified. Created for the San Francisco Ballet in 2003, the first movement featured an ensemble of dancers in exhilarating momentum. Propelled from beginning to end by the insistent, joyful music of Martinu’s Sinfonietta de Jolla, the dancers’ costumes in bright primary colors added an extra shot of liveliness to the non-stop fast choreography. The fluid choreography is broken up by geometric arms – rounded or straight in upward V shapes – and a tilting off-center motif that looked dangerously like near falls. The tilting motif carries through in the slow second movement, a spare duet danced by Damian Smith and Katita Waldo. Dressed in black and gently romantic, there’s a tinge of sadness and regret, but also a sense of being very much alive in the moment. Limbs unfolding, movements unfurling inside out, Waldo and Smith let the movement and atmosphere speak volumes in stillness with breathless vulnerability. Waldo and Smith’s duet was a stunning highlight of the program.

Maria Kochetkova and Frances Chung in Possohkov's Classical Symphony. © Erik Tomasson

Possohkov’s Classical Symphony is a staunch example of neoclassical ballet that’s brightly classical but not restrained. Firmly rooted in the classical ballet vocabulary, this piece almost seems retro in the way that it showcases classical virtuosity as a virtue worthy of applause. Unabashed displays of sky high leaps and spinning turns rouse the spirit of ballet’s Christmas past, and I dare you not to get excited over the technical brilliance of the SF Ballet dancers, led expertly by Maria Kochetkova and Hansuke Yamamoto. This piece also draws on strong gender lines, with sweeping, strong jumps for the men and delicate, petite allegro for the women. There’s a full movement of an ensemble of men that repetitively features flying leaps in unison, with very little in between. This movement was the one movement that felt a bit underdeveloped. Occasional breaks from the textbook ballet positions give way to reaching arms and dramatic lines to give it a modern feel. There’s a relief in the familiarity of a world of the expected, and although no particularly new revelations were made, it was just really fun to sit back and enjoy.

San Francisco Ballet in Robbins' The Concert (Or, The Perils of Everybody). © Erik Tomasson

The program ended with Jerome Robbins’ abstract and comedic The Concert (Or, The Perils of Everybody). Its spoof of modern theater is filled with audience members with loud candy wrappers,  a snooty piano soloist reluctant to share the spotlight (in a brilliantly dry and funny portrayal by pianist Michael McGraw), and obsequiously single-minded fans of the theater (such as myself ). The dancers brilliantly skirt the difficult balance between earnestness and pushing too far, especially with Pascla Molat’s perfectly timed performance as a cigar-chomping butterfly. Not being just a comedic ballet, the choreography holds incredible depth under its comedic veneer, with a disarming nod to the tender strains of Chopin’s music, and in being more than what it appears to be. But still, the most satisfying part of this program is hearing the laughter of children ring out loud over the general audience.

San Francisco Ballet‘s Program 7 plays through April 20.

Yuan Yuan Tan in Neumeier's The Little Mermaid. © Erik Tomasson

San Francisco Ballet presented the U.S. premiere of John Neumeier’s The Little Mermaid starting last weekend. Largely marketed as an adult story not intended for children, this production was an abstract psychodrama using the familiar tale of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid as a launching point. Although closer to the original Andersen tale than the more ubiquitous Disney version, the Andersen tale still serves as a rather distant inspiration, as the emotions of unrequited love and character development are more salient features than storytelling plot points. The strangely hypnotic world is also created by the stunning atonal music by Lera Auerbach, with sounds coming from the orchestra pit that sounded eerily human, in wordless sighs and groans.

Neumeier’s strength as a choreographer lies in his ability to take the abstract thematic elements of the story and to address it creatively. Set in a cinematic framework, the story starts off almost like a movie, with sounds of laughter and talking in the excited scene of wedding preparations amidst giggling bridesmaids and congratulatory groomsmen.  But from there, the story takes unexpected twists and turns, as the ocean grows from a tear dropping from the face of a forlorn male bystander (named “The Poet”, danced with veiled vulnerability and assurance by Damian Smith), who creates the little mermaid as a vessel of his unrequited love for the prince, a warmly oblivious and ever elegant Tiit Helimets. An underwater world is revealed, where movements are inflected with Asian influences – think Japanese butoh and Balinese dance, with the rippling arms and attention and detail in the wrists and fingers as free as the ocean. Time warps and bends, with mermaid sisters and a corps called “the sea” creating a slow and casual alien world.

Yuan Yuan Tan and Tiit Helimets in Neumeier's The Little Mermaid. © Erik Tomasson

In stark contrast is the world on land, harshly lit and unsympathetic. Characterized by conformity in boisterous unified group dances, people are such strange creatures, breaking out into dance and breaking out a golf club and golfing at random moments. Humans are seen from the viewpoint of the little mermaid, curiously interesting yet odd. Filled with non sequiturs often with a violent edge, the world of humans is depicted as an absurdist tragic comedy. In the midst of this, the little mermaid’s innocence in her love for the prince and the wholeheartedness of her devotion is heartbreaking, a beacon of humanity in this exotic and strange world.

Neumeier states that his story is inspired by the little mermaid’s love that transcends boundaries. Yet it’s hard to take her love for the prince seriously, as she falls in love with him with such innocence and later, determination. Rather than a love story, this ballet to me was more of a cautionary tale of tragedy. The audience is swept up by the pilgrimage of the little mermaid, a slow transformation from innocent girl leading to the psychological climax of her final solo, a dance of determination, surrender, and the realization of being trapped by her own desires. Principal Yuan Yuan Tan portrays the many facest of the role of the little mermaid with ferocity and the stage presence of an unassuming star. The dress that she once desired to wear after seeing the prince fall in love with a princess wearing the same dress, becomes constricting. The life on land she once desired becomes instruments of her own undoing, with the Sea Witch who gave her legs merely an instrument of what she thought she wanted. This dance represents both her psychological unraveling as well as her maturity in acceptance of her fate and the consequences of her decisions. For the first time, instead of being a victim of the ebb and flow of life, she learns to stand on her own two legs and takes authority of her life into her own hands.

Yuan Yuan Tan in Neumeier's The Little Mermaid. © Erik Tomasson

This monumental ballet has lofty goals, encompassing a large spectrum of emotions and psychological and dramatic themes in the framework of a familiar timeless story. The overall impression is a lot to take in at once, yet it’s also a world that’s easy to get lost in. Neumeier’s cinematic tale of The Little Mermaid is buried in abstraction and swirling in emotion and images, nonsensical yet urgent, a sentiment that can’t be put into words.

San Francisco Ballet’s website.

San Francisco Ballet’s The Little Mermaid arrived with a bang this past weekend. Choreographed by John Neumeier with music by Lera Auerbach, this production promises to be a visual feast of dramatic storytelling. This story is based more on the original Hans Christian Andersen story, rather than the more child-friendly Disney version. In an interview with the SF Chronicle, John Neumeier responds to a question regarding dance and drama:

Because I don’t think dance is intellectual. It’s more related to the experience of dreams than actuality. I believe you don’t understand a ballet; you have an experience of it.

I’m not sure I agree with his statement 100% – I agree that any art has to be experienced rather than thought through, but there’s always room for intellectual thought. For me, understanding and logical flow aids the process of emotional fulfillment.

The interview also states that the dance movement in this production is inspired by Balinese dance.

For more information, click here.

San Francisco Ballet in Fokine's Petrouchka. © Erik Tomasson

We don’t see a lot of Fokine around the War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco. And with Program 4, Michael Fokine’s Petrouchka was a brave yet intelligent choice that took risks in exposing SF audiences to something more unfamiliar. It’s a stark story of tyranny and cruelty in the form of three life size puppets, working as slave entertainers for a demanding master at a public festival. The company’s famous extensions were nowhere to be seen onstage, yet the meticulous details was gripping in the way that every gesture served the dramatic elements of the story. It truly was, as the program notes said, a play without words and maybe not what people had expected to see. Hunched concave shoulders and robotic angles in the arms and legs belied a sense of coerced duty in constant fear and hopelessness. The classic tragic hero Petrouchka’s doomed demise is a depressing message to those whose fatal flaw is to dare to hope, in the form of love for a fellow doll, the Ballerina. His demise is difficult to watch, and the truth of oppression is only made easier when the victim is dehumanized and made to believe that Petrouchka is only a doll, not a human being. Even the colorful scenery is garish and mocking, as is the score by Stravinsky in its mocking cheer and cacophony that grates on the ears. Petrouchka is a production that premiered in 1911, but its cynical truth rings true with modern times.

Taras Domitro was unrecognizable as Petrouchka, and a promising sign of growth as an artist where he was still able to hold the stage without his famous jumps or extensions. Elizabeth Miner was a doll without a hair out of place, and nobody batted an eye when the devil himself (danced by Martyn Garside) appeared in the bizarre festivities. The audience was more reticent than usual, but it was a thought-provoking dramatic piece, gripping in its details.

Although the stage was crowded with scenery and dancers and supers, the dancers seemed to fill the stage more in the empty set of Forsythe’s abstract in the middle, somewhat elevated, a piece that is the most polar opposite of Petrouchka that you could possibly get. In this crowded stage where there’s no choreographed movement to fill the stage, the atmosphere was curiously static in what should have been a bustling festival. It’s a testament to the strengths and weaknesses of the company, and this can only improved by tackling more pieces like Petrouchka.

Yuan Yuan Tan and Anthony Spaulding in Possokhov's Diving into the Lilacs. © Erik Tomasson

The rest of the program was filled with two pieces that played last year, and there were revelations to be made in a second look. In Possohkov’s Diving Into the Lilacs which premiered last year, I was reminded at how pretty this ballet is. Steeped in nostalgia and aching beauty, its imagery is vivid yet nonspecific, and its impact as effervescent as a fast fading memory.

Its strength lies in the fact that the choreographer-in-residence knows his company very very well – the dancers are highlighted to the best of their abilities. Frances Chung and Hansuke Yamamoto filled every moment in time and space to the fullest, Chung in her contrasts between quick and precise footwork and sweeping, liquid lines. Maria Kochetkova and Gennadi Nedvigin didn’t have the sculptural elegance of Tan and Spaulding in last year’s cast, but infused a lighter perfume to their delicately furious duet.

Frances Chung in Forsythe's in the middle, somewhat elevated. © Erik Tomasson

The evening ended with a bang with Forsythe’s in the middle, somewhat elevated in a heartpounding show of competitive artistry. Set to the turbulent music by Thom Willems on a bare stage, the focus is on the dancers and their movements as awe-inspiring as Olympic athletes, as they push to the limits of physicality. The dancers brought out different aspects in the geometric movements. Sarah Van Patten was a preening cat that attacked suddenly with steely precision. Garen Scribner had the best instincts on stage, from his weightless jumps to popping angles in his neck and limbs. Frances Chung made the audience gasp as she burst from the wings in a series of knife-like splits. Kristin Long and Pierre-Francois Vilanoba danced the final pas de deux, dancing with intentional ferocity. Long was a dynamo powerhouse, so different in style with Sofiane Sylve in the other cast who dances with more spontaneity and careless glamor and authority. With Long and Vilanoba, the volume was amped to the max, and it was a wonder to watch.

San Francisco Ballet

San Francisco Ballet in Wheeldon's Ghosts. © Erik Tomasson

Experimentation is necessary for the evolution of art. Never-before-seen dance positions and partnering can be fascinating to watch in and of itself, yet if this is all that a work of art offers, I start to wonder what the point is. The novelty of string of new inventions wears off quickly, a blatant “check this out” without engagement of the heart. This past week, in San Francisco Ballet’s Program 2, Christopher Wheeldon’s world premiere of Ghosts was a shining example of innovation wrapped within Wheeldon’s ability to build an arresting narrative through abstract ballet.

There were steps, lots of them, and lots of new ones to boot. But the thing that I remember the most isn’t that one cool step or that one awesome partnering move, but the long-lasting impression of poignant beauty. Awash in dark colors, the feel of the ballet is reminiscent of Anne Rice vampires doing ballet with the dusty white long dresses and loose unkempt hair for the women. But deeper than that, it was a veritable feast for the senses. Jam-packed with movement deeply rooted in classical ballet but testing the boundaries with an off-center body, often radiating regret. These steps meld into the music by C.F. Kip Winger and the surging abstract storyline in a satisfying whole package. The music by C.F. Kip Winger is never translated literally, but served as a launching point for experimentation of movement. A meandering piano that drifts in and out backs the undulating quality in the choreography, contrasted with a sharp pointedness and seamless shifting directions. Maria Kochetkova and newly hired principal Vitor Luiz attacked the fiendishly fast central pas de deux in a breathless whirlwind of passions in a complex interplay of grasps and trust. Wheeldon brought out a unique womanly side to Kochetkova’s dancing, as she reminded me of a romantic heroine from classical literature – Anna Karenina perhaps, or one of Ibsen’s heroines. There was a lovely unhurried and sensual unraveling of her limbs, partnered by an intensely urgent Vitor Luiz who injected fervent drama into their interactions. Sofiane Sylve, Tiit Helimets, and Brett Bauer danced as a tour de force in their striking power and presence.  This ballet is one of those pieces that stays with you hours after it’s over, an ache that you continue to mull over in your memory.

San Francisco Ballet in Robbins' Opus 19/The Dreamer. © Erik Tomasson

Jerome Robbins’ Opus 19/The Dreamer was in stark contrast to the visual affluence of the Wheeldon piece. Its theme was introspective in its simplicity of movement, mirroring the sparseness of the orchestration of Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto. Robbins takes a simple step like walking on pointe, and shapes it gently over time. The effect is arresting, hypnotic. There’s a central figure, danced by Pascal Molat, dressed in a nude unitard. He seems to be dwelling in his dreams, although it’s unclear if he’s the director or the hapless victim of his imagination. He leads a group to follow his movements, and then the next moment is lost in his surroundings with a vibrant corps around him. Dancing and interacting with Sarah Van Patten, she is a fleeting and unpredictable vision. There is a juxtaposition of the mundane and the sublime, from heavenly arabesques to torsos and arms flung forward towards the ground. This bold mix is ultimately an uneasy one, a non sequitur that leaves the audience relating to the haziness of the central figure. The curtain closes on Molat and Van Patten with their arms in a questioning shrug, as if posing the same question to the audience.

The evening closed with the high energy of Paul Taylor’s Company B. The music by the Andrews sisters is so evocative of the time period of World War II. It immediately conjures up memories of happier times, yet Taylor puts a twist in every song. In “Pennsylvania Polka”, Elizabeth Miner and Benjamin Stewart polka gaily around boys lying still on the ground, dancing in complete oblivion to the destruction around them. In “There Will Never Be Another You”, Katita Waldo and Quinn Wharton dance wistfully with sweeping finesse with shadowy soldiers marching in the background until at the end, Wharton joins the march of the darkened soldiers leaving Waldo to herself. The contrast between the cheerful music and its darker themes of war and destruction mirrors a denial and an effort to suppress the unpleasantness in this world. However, it’s exactly for this unpleasantness that drives audiences into a ballet theater, to forget and to be entertained and distracted by happier things. It was my feeling that the audience chose to take away the nostalgia in the cheerful music rather than its disturbing themes, but it’s a message that resonates long after the concert was over.

San Francisco Ballet in Taylor's Company B. © Erik Tomasson

San Francisco Ballet . Program 2 is playing until February 20.

Sarah Van Patten in Tomasson's Swan Lake. © Erik Tomasson

There are so many other factors that can affect your experience in the theater. Expectations are a big one – high expectations are hard to meet. However for some reason last Saturday afternoon, the stars were aligned – my expectations in check from last year’s experience, a pleasantly honest and savvy date, and a gorgeous sunny day after days of rain – and I had a wonderful time at San Francisco Ballet’s Swan Lake.

This isn’t your grandmother’s staid Swan Lake of fluttering self-pitying swans. The sparkling costumes and sets by Jonathan Fensom still have that new car smell, with the sets creating an expansive open space for the story to unfold. As beautiful as the sets and costumes are, the best thing is that they allow for the story told through movement to shine.

Despite its deep roots in traditional classical ballet, San Francisco Ballet’s production isn’t a dusty one with uptight perfect fifth position arms. Arms are spread back like wings, twisted in angst and fear. Swans lean forward in lines of regret and surrender. The evil Von Rothbart’s extensions whip out in raging anger as he leaps through the air. Rather than a showcase of textbook technique which can be an end in itself, classical technique is used to further the purposes of the story. The corps of swans were a powerful entity, dancing not only with a remarkable unity but a single minded purpose, dancing with power and an overlay of sadness all communicated through body movements, from assured sweeping arms to eyes cast down. The effect is dramatic and deliciously intimidating in their sheer numbers and solidarity, more like a pack of wild birds than precious animals found in fairytales. The choreography of the pas de trois in the first act is restrained, but dancers Frances Chung, Hansuke Yamamoto (a last minute replacement for Vitor Luiz), and Nutnaree Pipit-Suksun danced with such style that it was hard to notice. Aided greatly by a clipping pace by the orchestra led by Martin West, Chung was delightfully spry with remarkably clear footwork, Pipit-Suksun infused her dancing with a warmth and grandeur in her long extensions, and Yamamoto soared in a winning combination of bravura and gentility in partnering the two ladies. Anthony Spaulding was a mix of fierce aggression and dauntless nobility as Von Rothbart, which made him an intimidating foe. In addition, Anita Paciotti was a strikingly fabulous Queen mother, with a magnetic stage presence dripping with royal airs merely parading around the stage. The dancers brought this classical ballet to life, carving out a cinematic journey that carries the audience through this timeless tragic fairytale.

The near-perfect cast was headed by Sarah Van Patten in the role of Odette/Odile. Her portrayal of the tragic heroine was one that unfolds slowly, sensuously, organically over time. There’s a sumptuous luxury in the way that her movements are unforced yet always growing, and we clearly see the development of her love story from start to finish. From a skittish fear with wide eyes, to growing still when Prince Siegfried catches her hand and looks into her eyes, to a growing trust of backward trust falls trusting him to catch her, to a tremulous foot beating betraying her beating heart. As she turns, she slows and hesitates as she sees her prince – it’s the very picture of a heart faltering. As Odile, Van Patten was all sleek lines glinting cruelly in the light, her confidence in the role visibly improved from last year. She soared in the role of seductress and looked like she was having fun doing it. There was something thrillingly dangerous about the way that she looked up at the audience slowly, fiendishly, deliberately, while dancing with her arms presented and spread wide. Her final pose was triumphant as the Prince is holding her hand, as she throws back her head in silent cruel laughter.

It’s interesting that in this version, I saw not just a love story between two people, but more of a picture of a woman falling in love despite its consequences. Weight is unfairly given to the role of Odette over Prince Siegfried in this romance. It’s a thankless role to be sure, and Prince Siegfried was danced by guest artist Vadim Solomakha. His natural acting ability helps with the angsty moments he had onstage, but in general, he lacked a princely posture when he stood or walked, as he played his part more like a jovial accessible leader who interacts with his people in the first act. In dancing with Odette, he almost disappeared next to Van Patten, and was otherwise unremarkable and technically tenuous in his jump landings and footwork.

In general, I was reminded of how timeless this ballet is, where deception is damning, and the choice to love is heartfelt. San Francisco Ballet’s Swan Lake is a stunning production that will continue to tell the classic tale to modern day audiences. This production rests on the abilities of the dancers to bring it to life, and with the cast that I saw, this can be a very good thing.

Other reviews:

• SF Chronicle
  
• SF Classical Voice
  
• NY Times
  

San Francisco Ballet’s Program 2 starts on February 9, including a world premiere with Christopher Wheeldon set to the music of recording artist Kip Winger.

Don’t you hate it when real life gets in the way of what you really want to do? It’s been particularly difficult to tear myself away from work and a semblance of a personal life these days. Throw in a family visit last weekend and a bridal shower this coming weekend, and things get nearly impossible. Anyways, some really good things are going on this week. If you attend any of these, please report back to tell me what I missed!!

1. San Francisco Symphony: MTT plays Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 23: Do you think he calls himself MTT? I really wanted to go see this. A marvelous program at the symphony, continues through Saturday. The program includes a Stravinsky Octet for Wind Instruments, Mozart Piano Concerto No. 23 with Michael Tilson Thomas as the piano soloist, and Stravinsky’s Pulcinella with a fantastic line up of singers including Eric Owens, an amazing artist that stood out even in the standout cast in SF Opera’s Porgy and Bess last summer. This program might be a fun one to watch from the cheap center terrace seats – piano performances are good for these because you get a great view of the keyboard and MTT’s expressive actions. It might not be fun for the singers though, as they face forward. Read sfmike’s take on it, here.
2. San Francisco Ballet’s Swan Lake closes at the end of this week. My review from last year is here. I will be watching Sarah Van Patten on Saturday afternoon – she hit it out of the park last year in Pointe Magazine’s top 12 favorite performances of the year.
3. Christopher Wheeldon’s company Morphoses completes their West Coast tour this week with their last show in Santa Barbara on January 29. I’ll be reviewing them soon (hopefully tonight). The company and their repertoire is amazing and challenging – if you want to see the future of ballet, go see it. And for goodness sakes, don’t leave before the last piece, Wheeldon’s Rhapsody Fantasie, as a friend of mine did – it was my favorite piece of the program. I couldn’t help myself, but I saw him strolling in the lobby where nobody recognized him. In a supremely fangirl-y moment, I introduced myself and got to ask him a few questions (one was, “What does Continuum mean?”). I hope I wasn’t rude because I didn’t mean it that way at all, but he was equally nice and charming and so so intelligent, and I was thrilled to meet a choreographer I so admire. SFB principal Pierre-Francois Vilanoba was also spotted in the house.
4. Fiddler on the Roof with Harvey Fierstein opened this week.

I’m sure I’m missing a million events, but as I’m up to my neck in graduate work, these are the things that have been on my radar recently. What else am I missing out on?

San Francisco Ballet in Tomasson's Le Quattro Stagioni. © Erik Tomasson. It must be a fun photography game to try to catch Taras Domitro in the perfect 180 degree splits.

Every opening night gala is a celebration in itself, but especially recently, San Francisco Ballet has had much to celebrate. With the festivities of the landmark 75th anniversary still echoing in my ears, this year’s celebration was one with a more personal touch – artistic director Helgi Tomasson’s 25th year anniversary with the company. In an opening night program that highlighted choreographers whose work have been staples in shaping the company’s repertoire, the gala was not only a showcase for the company’s astounding versatility but also the vision of Tomasson and his extraordinary accomplishments as its artistic director. With pieces from Balanchine, Morris, Wheeldon, Robbins, and Tomasson himself, you see that Tomasson had an eye for innovative choreographers that think a little bit outside the box and push the envelope. (A choreographer missing from the opening night lineup was choreographer-in-residence Yuri Possohkov whose presence was missed.) San Francisco audiences have been privileged to benefit from his vision for innovation and style.

This opening night gala was not only a showcase for Tomasson’s leadership in bringing the company to the forefront of the international ballet scene, but his choreography as well. A majority of the evening were choreographed by Tomasson himself, and it was interesting to see a broad range of his choreography in one sitting. His eye for innovation that makes him a good artistic director is present everywhere – Tomasson favors class and elegance in his lines, no better exemplified in his pas de deux from 7 For Eight. Backed by Johann Sebastian Bach’s music, Nutnaree Pipt-Suksun and Pierre-Francois Vilanoba, elegantly clothed in black, personify the restrained yearnings of Bach’s music by being boxed in by a square spotlight, and dancing within its realm with outstretched arabesques and coolly controlled promenades. There are also occasional indulgences in unabashed romance in Tomasson’s choreography, like dips into a well of guilty pleasure. Passion simmers underneath a layer of decorum, such as in the pas de deux from The Fifth Season, multiplied by the wholehearted trust only seen in the assured partnership between the thrillingly seamless Yuan Yuan Tan and Damian Smith. More than once in different works, a woman is cradled into a man’s arms and carried off stage. A woman’s cheek rests gently on a brawny arm. Tomasson’s world is a world where the men are chivalrous like knights on white horses, jumping with power and always debonair. In Tomasson’s “Winter” from Le Quattro Stagioni, an overflowing of stage full of strapping men embodying strength and virtue, led by the dynamic Taras Domitro. The stage seemed too small to contain this tour de force.

Yuan Yuan Tan in Tomasson's Chi-Lin. © Erik Tomasson

Still, even in the opening night program, Tomasson’s abilities fall short as a champion choreographer. It’s unclear if Tomasson is the master constructionist with a view for the bigger picture while making the journey interesting. Watching his works, I get the feeling that he choreographs in blocks. He seems to be getting somewhere within the span of a few minutes, but it ends soon; transitions are abrupt and not always logical nor easy to follow. This blocked style is especially evident in contrast to Balanchine’s “The Man I Love” from Who Cares?. In a falling-in-love-in-a-Carousel-sort-of-way duet between Sarah Van Patten and Pierre-Francois Vilanoba, there is even a poetic story in the placement of the two lovers, both in space and in relation to each other. In their spacing alone, both close and far, in different hand holds and lifts, there is both uncertainty and certainty in falling in love, an ebb and flow that resolves with a satisfying close. There are revelations around every corner, small and big. In contrast, Tomasson’s Balcony pas de deux from Romeo and Juliet, also a story of falling in love, the overall construction lacks an overarching line in the plot – no slow yet growing buildup to a climax or natural die down punctuated by a first kiss. It’s phrasing built into the construction of the piece, the same as in music as in dance. The result are sudden changes in fast and slow in a ride that feels more random and uneven. Perhaps there’s a metaphor for first love in there somewhere?

As in music, there is room for performers to inject their own artistry. The dancers who excel at Tomasson choreography are the performers who carry and follow through the movements, adding momentum. Yuan Yuan Tan and Damian Smith seamlessly converge in a whirlwind of trust as she falls freely in Smith’s sure arms in The Fifth Season. Tan is a free bird in the “Flute Moon” from Tomasson’s Chi-Lin, angular and showy. Davit Karapetyan powers through space with power and grace, noble yet stirring in Tomasson’s Chaconne for Piano and Two Dancers with incredible stage presence. Maria Kochetkova is a thrilled young girl in love as Juliet as she flits across the stage with Joan Boada as her ardent lover.

Maria Kochetkova and Joan Boada in Tomasson's Romeo & Juliet. © Erik Tomasson

In some of the pieces, this blocked style is used to its advantage. In Tomasson’s Concerto Grosso, which may as well be his finest piece yet, utilizes this style by presenting the work set in a classroom feel. Five men in solid colored unitards repeat high flying steps, steps tinted with lyricism and authority, on both left and right sides as is normal in a ballet class. There is a repetitiveness reminiscent of basic training exercises. The men push themselves higher and faster, as well as competitively yet congenially with others. This display of virtuosity is a thrilling showcase for dancers as beautiful as the lyrical Diego Cruz, James Sofranko, Garen Scribner who holds gentility in his finishes, Hansuke Yamamoto, led by Pascal Molat. Molat bursts off the stage with his energy yet his footwork is precise, and he seems to fly. In other pieces however, choreography falls flat. The pas de six from Tomasson’s Sleeping Beauty felt harried, with each variation feeling truncated and too brief; the shaky footwork and lack of unity amongst the dancers didn’t help either. It was disappointing that the pas de deux from Tomasson’s Tuning Game went nowhere in spite of its sharp inflections, especially since it was an introduction for newly hired principal Vitor Luiz (dancing with Lorena Feijoo) to San Francisco audiences. It wasn’t the proper showcase for both dancers, and we’ll have to wait until the season to see what he can do.

The company truly soars in choreography such as Morris and Balanchine that the company seemed created to dance. The “Typewriter” from Mark Morris’ Sandpaper Ballet is quirky, lightning fast, and entertaining, and Robbins’ “The Mistake Waltz” from The Concert is earnest and heartwarming that reminds me, a bit painfully, of my ballet classes where someone (like me) goes in the wrong direction or gets offbeat from the music without quite knowing why. It’s easy to write these pieces off as mere froth, yet these pieces require a transparent sincerity without overdoing it. San Francisco Ballet excels at striking the perfect balance. Balanchine’s Agon with Sofiane Sylve and Anthony Spaulding is both severe and stunning. Gennadi Nedvigin in “Bugle Boy” from Paul Taylor’s Company B is a finger snappin’ carefree spirit with loose, swinging shoulders. Katita Waldo and Damian Smith work through the angular complexity of Christopher Wheeldon’s pas de deux from Rush, unraveling movements through time and space. Stylistically, this company has become an expert in these choreographers. Yet this company isn’t one that evolved this way, but it’s a company that represents a vision of its artistic director, Helgi Tomasson. And for that, San Francisco audiences are thankful. It’s going to be a great season this year.

San Francisco Ballet website. Program 1, Tomasson’s Swan Lake, starts tonight.