The world in Inbal Pinto's "Oyster"

Inbal Pinto – ‘Oyster’
San Francisco Performances, Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco
May 7, 2006

That sense of unease began with the sound of the wind, blowing across a vast, deserted space. As the twilight glow came up on Inbal Pinto and Avshalom Pollak’s “Oyster,” a little shiver went down my spine.

Outside of the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, crowds of people were lolling in the green lawn, enjoying the warm sunny afternoon, but the less fortunate they, because those of us who had wandered into Pinto’s dark cavern of circus freaks were in for a wild ride.

Pinto, who is a former member of Israel’s acclaimed Batsheva Company, incorporates many familiar theatrical touches into her sideshow – the white-face makeup, zany costumes, a bare stage framed by naked light bulbs that suggest a dilapidated carnival – but the pleasure of “Oyster” is not that it breaks new ground, but in how expertly she and collaborator Pollak have put the elements together.

We’ve seen duets with aerial work before, but rarely done with such ease and insouciance. Dancers have been strung and manipulated like puppets before, but rarely with such creepy implications. But “Oyster’s” cavalcade of sideshow freaks displays a canny understanding of the real art of pantomime, and though it has been categorized by presenter San Francisco Performances as “dance,” it’s really a skillful theater piece.

The twelve members of the troupe take on personas that defy adequate description, ranging from circus animals – performing dogs, elephants, etc. – to a double headed barker, whom I found to be as disturbing as “Laughing Sal,” the coin-operated doll that used to stand in San Francisco’s Musee Mecanique. The music runs from Astor Piazzolla to Yma Sumac, from old standards to throaty humming, many of which never before seemed so sinister or unfamiliar.

Faded carnies every one, the characters run through their paces, and at the end of the day, doff their accoutrements and sit down to amuse each other. The weary atmosphere has a tincture of forlorn sadness about it – though not of the self-pitying variety, but rather the kind that made characters like Emmett Kelly’s Weary Willie or Chaplin’s Little Tramp so compelling. Why do we watch them? Why do we watch sideshows? Is it that they evoke macabre fascination or empathy? And, Pinto seems to ask, what does that say about us?

San Francisco Ballet: Saying good-bye to Yuri Possokhov, Stephen Legate and Peter Brandenhoff

San Francisco Ballet
Farewell Gala, May 5, 2006
War Memorial Opera House, Van Ness Avenue at Grove, San Francisco

In a specially arranged, almost impromptu tribute at the War Memorial Opera House for retiring San Francisco Ballet dancers, Yuri Possokhov, Stephen Legate and Peter Brandenhoff, an introspective program of solos, duets and trios created an atmosphere tinged with wistful romance not unlike that of a love affair that’s ending.

It was an evening of was ballet for grown-ups, with nary a fouette to be seen, but loads of the finely-honed dancing of the sort that speaks of the years of experience these men bring to the stage.

Jerome Robbins’ dreamy nocturnal ballet, “In the Night,” opened Friday night’s program. This intimate and subtle series of duets for three couples isn’t for everyone -- the dancers often do no more than merely walk to the introspective Chopin piano nocturnes, which were delicately rendered by Roy Bogas -- but in the hands of the right artists it can be transporting.

Robbins had a knack for drawing back the curtain on the internal life of the characters of his ballets and “In the Night” offers a study of introspection, sensitivity and temperament. It’s not a psychological ballet, but it requires a perceptiveness about human interaction which makes it a perfect vehicle for the talents of Legate and Possokhov not to mention their colleagues.

Partnering a lovely Rachel Viselli, Legate was attentive and self-effacing, bringing both finesse and freshness to the portrayal of the youthful rush of passion. In the second duet, Muriel Maffre and Damian Smith presented a different portrait, with Smith a dashing and somewhat haughty partner to Maffre’s pensive consort.

Lorena Feijoo was wild and heartfelt with Possokhov, who looked remarkably boyish in their contentious pas de deux. Possokhov’s reliability and generosity as a partner never fails to bring out abandon in his ballerinas, who look like they trust him implicitly, even if the characters they are playing are quarreling.

On the surface, “In the Night” looks like individual sketches – the sweep of first love, the serenity of a married couple, the tantrums of another couple – but there is more to the story than that. The six dancers here imbue the ballet with a past subjunctive mood that evokes regrets, longings, desires, all underlined in a moment when the three couples encounter each other. Smith and Legate face off silently in the background while Maffre looks on, abashed. A rivalry, a failed love affair? The finale leaves you with many more questions than when it started.

After a brief intermission, the crowd went wild for Possokhov in “Revelation,” a solo choreographed by Motoko Hirayama to the violin theme from “Schindler’s List.” Clad in dark pants and an open red shirt, Possokhov expertly drove the audience through the emotional highs and lows of the vignette. Though no one would claim he is at the peak of his physical powers, he can still loft tours into the air with whisper soft landings, and this deeply felt meditation brought the audience to its feet.

Hans van Manen’s fiendishly rapid-fire “Solo,” danced by three men to a recording of a Bach violin solo, was the only opportunity of the evening to see Brandenhoff dance, and he made the most of it, delivering his complex steps with acuity. Joined by Legate and a brilliant Pascal Molat, the three men gave the rat-tat-tat of the choreography extra dimension with sly interplay between them.

Possokhov returned with Yuan Yuan Tan in the fervid balcony scene from Helgi Tomasson’s “Romeo & Juliet.” Tan is all airy grace, but you have the sense that the illusion is accomplished by Possokhov who is mysteriously at her side to sweep her into the air.

In “My Funny Valentine,” an excerpt from Lar Lubovitch’s “…smile with my heart,” Tina LeBlanc and Legate effortlessly meshed together in a quirky pas de deux. At the end a fan lobbed a bouquet onto stage as the two came forward for a bow and LeBlanc scurried forward to snatch it up and knelt to present it to Legate – knowing that if he got to it first he’d give it to her instead, because that’s the kind of guy he is.

The evening closed with Maffre and Possokhov taking the stage in the “Summer” pas de deux from Christopher Wheeldon’s “Quaternary.” The audience in the War Memorial Opera House was so intensely concentrated on the performance, so silent, that you could literally hear the 60-cycle hum of the fluorescent bulbs framing Jean-Marc Puissant’s pale, oblong backdrop.

Possokhov will dance it again in New York when the company tours to the Lincoln Center Festival in July, and then he’ll take up his post as Choreogrpher-in-Residence at San Francisco Ballet – an offer that relieves those of us who feared he’d would be snatched up by another ballet company and we’d miss the pleasure of seeing his work. Legate will move on to study chiropractic medicine in Southern California, where his wife, the incomparable Evelyn Cisneros, will take over the helm of Ballet Pacifica’s school. And as for Brandenhoff, one suspects that we have not seen the last of him onstage.

In the mean time, we will have to comfort ourselves in the knowledge that, with Smith, Molat, Maffre, Tan, LeBlanc and the many other beautiful artists of the company, dance of this caliber will return next season.

This review originally appeared in the Contra Costa Times.