War Memorial Opera House, Van Ness Avenue at Grove, San Francisco
through February 4
San Francisco Ballet Opening Gala: Wednesday January 25, 2006
A light drizzle didn’t at all dim the spirits of the happy souls promenading in all their finery at San Francisco Ballet’s Opening Gala last Wednesday night at the War Memorial Opera House. Indeed, the mood in the lobby was still so giddy at ten minutes after eight that most of the audience members were barely close to their seats when the lights went down.
That’s business as usual for the annual ballet gala, but the program Helgi Tomasson cooked up for the opening of the company’s 73rd season offered more than the usual finger-food. This year’s selection ventured from the classical to the contemporary in what could have been a statement on the range and diversity requisite for a 21st century ballet company.
There’s a reason why San Francisco Ballet, recently named company of the year by Dance Europe Magazine, not only remains in the top tier of classically-based companies in the world, but also has run in the black financially for fourteen years. How many troupes can field twenty nine dancers in an evening that calls for the exacting classicism of “Paquita,” the asperity of William Forsythe, the Romantic softness of “Chopiniana” and everything in between?
It was the dynamic trio of Katita Waldo, Kristin Long and Vanessa Zahorian who opened the program with a deliciously breezy rendering of Forsythe’s “The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude,” partnered with agile precision by Nicolas Blanc and Pierre-François Vilanoba.
Muriel Maffre and Damian Smith, dancing a pas de deux from Yuri Possokhov’s “Reflections” offered a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a modernist enigma. In one long seamless moment that left behind a sense of longing and loss, Maffre and Smith managed to conjure far more of a Romantic essence than did Claire Pascal and Ruben Martin, whose duet from “Chopiniana” – also known as “Les Sylphides”—was curiously lacking in Romantic style.
In the “Black Swan” Pas de Deux, Lorena Feijoo ably demonstrated how to give an account of a character within the first minute of an entrance. The evil glint in her eye was perhaps a trifle dismissive of partner Davit Karapetyan -- the Armenian-born principal who joined the company this season from the Zurich Ballet -- but her caprices could not cloud the high spirits which emerged in his spectacular jumps.
Among the many other standouts of the evening were Pascal Molat, making a sharply specific and percolating debut in Hans van Manen’s “Solo,” Nutnaree Pipit-Suksun, who produced gasp-worthy articulation partnered by new principal Tiit Helimets in David Bintley’s “The Dance House,” and a brightly magnetic Gonzalo Garcia in fire engine red for Lar Lubovitch’s “Elemental Brubeck.”
SFB's: Swan Lake
San Francisco Ballet’s spring season got off to thoroughly satisfying start with Gonzalo Garcia making an impressive debut opposite Tina LeBlanc in Helgi Tomasson’s “Swan Lake,” which opened on Saturday night at the War Memorial Opera House.
Tomasson’s “Swan Lake” – first produced some 18 years ago -- is among the more succinct versions of the sprawling classic though in essence, it is unchanged from the famous version choreographed by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov. His is also a visually pretty production.
Although the original story is set in Germany, the inspiration for the scenery and costumes, designed by Jens-Jacob Worsaae, is the floral French Rococo landscapes made famous by 18th century painter Jean-Honore Fragonard. Conceptually this doesn’t interfere with the basic story – boy meets swan, boy falls in love with swan, boy betrays swan, boy and swan plunge to their deaths -- although the court scenes in the first and third act can look a little overly fussy, which is in contrast with the streamlined dancing onstage.
Among the chief pleasures of the evening, though, was seeing Garcia tackle the sometimes problematic role of Siegfried. From the start, Garcia has always had the tools -- easy multiple turns, a lofty jump and an exuberant love of being on stage. But as he moves through the classical canon, he constantly adds nuance to his dancing, and never more satisfyingly so than in his Siegfried, where every movement becomes a part and parcel to his expressiveness. A double assemblé turn – tossed off with disarming ease – is no longer just a tricky step, but seems to echo the turmoil in a troubled prince’s thoughts. He acknowledges relationships with the other dancers onstage as he passes them during his variations, and in his partnering work, he is more sensitive to how his line not only complements, but completes his partner’s, and often adjusts accordingly.
In the dual role of Odette and Odile, LeBlanc displayed her customary security and the swift dagger-like pointe work which speaks volumes about her strength. Even so, though, she imbued her White Swan with a forlorn desperation, shaping the character in a simple arabesque that sank down to earth with both a melancholy plushness and a keenly accurate instinct for the music. When Garcia enfolded her in his arms, the small nuzzle into his neck could have melted an ice block.
By contrast her Black Swan had the feeling of a caricature of Odette rather than a shadowy alter ego, and in this, LeBlanc’s technical accomplishments seemed a hindrance that made her Odile a distant figure. So solidly invulnerable was her performance that the sparks never really flew between her and Garcia the way they did in the second act.
A casual observer might assume that LeBlanc -- who joined the company in 1992 and has done this role many times – was cast secondarily in the role of mentor to Garcia, who is a younger principal. It may well be the case, but to say that is to deny Garcia full credit for the intelligence with which he approaches every role. In fact it looks more like this pairing works --as it did so well in “Giselle” last season -- because there is a meeting of two astute minds. LeBlanc and Garcia have peppered their interpretation with details -- the way she barely touches his shoulder before falling into his arms, a quick understated glance under the arm – so that it looks like a partnership, rather than just two dancers moving in close proximity. Even if certain aspects didn’t work completely, their performance as a whole had coherence.
If the devil is in the details for the Swan Queen and her Siegfried, it is doubly true for the corps de ballet. This flock of sixteen swans, augmented by eight soloists, boasts fine dancers, but sadly, small things – heads tilted at different angles, arms raised to varying levels – betrayed a lack of attention to what is, to many people, a key part of the appeal of the lakeside scene. Some of the more meaningful aspects of the corps’ steps have been forgotten or distilled away. Gone, for instance, is the lovely twining motion of the arms that used to signify swans preening. The dancers now do a simplified classroom-style arm movement that conveys little of the supernatural quality of their swan-maiden duality.
The owlish Damian Smith made the most of his predatory, scenery-chewing role as the evil von Rothbart and the pas de trois in the first act got a lift from the girlish and light Vanessa Zahorian, who danced opposite a nervous looking but very pretty Rachel Viselli. Sergio Torrado, whose bravado is impressive but whose technique has just enough sloppiness to mar the effects, partnered them both. Possibly the two dancers having the most fun at the ball in the third act, however, were Elizabeth Miner and Pascal Molat, who danced a fast and furious Neapolitan.
Newly appointed music director Martin West wrung every bit of drama from the Tchaikovsky score, particularly in the ebb and flow of the second act. His leadership is a welcome relief, and if the orchestra seemed to flag at the end of the ballet, still they sound livelier than ever under his baton.
