San Francisco Ballet - "Dos Mujeres"

San Francisco Ballet
Dos Mujeres
War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco
April 12th, 2024

It’s hard to believe that in less than a month, San Francisco Ballet’s home season will be over. The final two programs, currently running in tandem, close in the next few days. And after weeklong encores of Mere Mortals and Swan Lake, the company exits the War Memorial Opera House to embark on their summer engagements. It has been a stunning season filled with upending surprises and comforting classics. And upon entering the lobby and theater on Friday night, it was clear that something equally special was in the offing with Program 6.

Kudos to the SFB artistic team for making the whole environment feel alive and immersive. Rich, jewel-toned florals made ordinary surfaces smile. Art installations peeked out from every corner. And Maria Guzmán Capron’s breathtaking multi-fabric curtain, commissioned specially by SFB, adorned the proscenium arch. Program 6’s title spoke on two levels. First, it shares its name with a Frida Kahlo painting from 1928 or 1929 (sources differ on the year it was created). Kahlo was the inspiration for the second work on this double bill. Second, Dos Mujeres translates to ‘two women,’ and the evening featured work from two high-octane Latina choreographers - Arielle Smith and Annabelle Lopez Ochoa. Both pieces were premieres; Smith’s Carmen, a world premiere, and Ochoa’s Broken Wings (2016), an SFB premiere. While there were was much to comment on in each, it was the visuals and dance drama of these twenty-first century story ballets that captivated. The drama was heavy and intense; the dance, a little less so.  

San Francisco Ballet in Smith's Carmen
Photo © Reneff-Olson Productions

Smith’s Carmen has been described in many different outlets as a ‘re-imagining’ of Bizet’s opera. And that word was chosen because it is truly apt. The main characters are present as are themes of jealousy, resentment, passion, duty and rage. But the setting, premise, relationships, gender and definitely, the ending, are different. I quite enjoyed this new take. I also loved that it was edited from the typical four-acts to just one. Having said that, with only forty-ish minutes, Smith had a lot of story to tell in fairly short order. Carmen’s pace was brisk. On the one hand, that fast-moving tempo was energetic and dynamic. It demanded its audience’s attention and engagement from one instant to the next. At the same time, the pace meant that the viewer wasn’t able to sit with the various plotpoints or characters for very long. This made some twists and turns hard to envision and digest.  

Riccardo Hernández’ set design and Gabriela Hearst’s costumes were arrestingly on the nose, though the lighting didn’t always work for me. I get what they were trying to accomplish with darker light patterns highlighting the dilapidated environment. But it was too dark on occasion. Dance-wise, it was wonderful to see a pas de deux between two women - Sasha De Sola’s Carmen and Jennifer Stahl’s Escamillo – which I would argue is still somewhat of a rarity in ballet. And the circular phrase for when Joseph Walsh’s Jose was spinning out of control was Carmen’s standout choreographic and technical moment. But it was the drama that was the focus here as opposed to the dancing. 

Like Carmen, Broken Wings sought to convey a formidable narrative – the life and work of Mexican painter Frida Kahlo. For fifty minutes, Ochoa invited us to be part of Kahlo’s personal and creative existence, with all its pain, uncertainty, whimsy, volatility and love. A tall order, to be sure. And a very successful result. 

San Francisco Ballet in Ochoa's Broken Wings
Photo © Reneff-Olson Productions

Ochoa’s pacing of that journey felt reasonable, perhaps even a little slow in the middle. But the vibrant visual feast more than made up for any lulls. Color leapt from the stage – in fabrics, in headpieces and in the choreography, which was also a little more present. Imaginative creatures and beings that spanned the natural and physical worlds were introduced. Gender constructs were disrupted. A mammoth set box skated on the stage’s surface leading to penetrating questions. Was the box a metaphor for Kahlo’s imagination or a frame for her art? Was it somewhere she went to think, to hide or to escape?

Choreographically, Ochoa suggested Kahlo’s carefree joy with light, crisp batterie (entre chat quatre, and briseé). In contrast, she also injected twitching and tremoring motions into much of the phrase material, mirroring the physical ailments and chronic pain that Kahlo endured for much of her life. As one might expect, Broken Wings is a vehicle for the dancer that is cast in the titular role. Isabella DeVivo was a consummate Kahlo, commanding the stage with grace, clarity and depth. I liked the piece, though I will admit that it didn’t knock my socks off, but based on the reception on Friday, many in the audience clearly adored it.

The Joffrey Ballet - "Anna Karenina"

Alberto Velazquez and Victoria Jaiani in
Possokhov's Anna Karenina
Photo Cheryl Mann

Cal Performances presents
The Joffrey Ballet
Anna Karenina
Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley
March 15, 2024

If you look on my bookshelf, you will indeed find a copy of Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy, procured at the beginning of the pandemic. It was going to be a homebound season, so what better time to tackle such an epic and mammoth novel. Well, four years later and it’s not yet finished. Someday. Thankfully, there are plenty of online resources to fill in the blanks – characters, plot points, overall themes. So, when attending any dance adaptations of the book, I can, for the most part, follow the narrative line. 

This past weekend, Chicago’s Joffrey Ballet brought their 2019 version to Cal Performances on the UC Berkeley campus, accompanied live by the Berkeley Symphony. Choreographed by Yuri Possokhov (well-known to local audiences as the longtime choreographer-in-residence at San Francisco Ballet), Anna Karenina takes the viewer on a wide-ranging emotional journey of duty, yearning, lust, hope and despair. Weaving classic movement with video projection by Finn Ross, song by Lindsay Metzger and stunning scenic design by Tom Pye, the two-act ballet was entirely engrossing. Possokhov had a lot of story to cover in a short time, and he did it. A multitude of scenes unpacked all the action, and each was cinematic, grand and fast-moving without feeling rushed. The motifs were all there: the trains, the idea of flying informing every pas de deux. And the theme of rebelling, resisting, and reacting to the era’s structural, cultural and societal norms was abundantly present all the way to the final blackout. This ballet gets many things right. From the undeniable passion to the compositional structure to the relation of a complicated narrative, if you get a chance to see it, go.

Act I has a lot going on, but again the transition from one landscape to another was incredibly smooth and well done. Early in the act, we visit Kitty Shcherbatskaya’s (Yumi Kanazawa) home where Possokhov’s choreography really shines. The partnering and solos were clean, inventive and surprising without feeling fussy. It is here that the audience encounters Anna’s (Victoria Jaiani) infatuation and entanglement with Alexey Vronsky (Alberto Velazquez) despite the fact that she is already married with a family. And from then on, the thesis of the ballet is set - the chasm between satisfaction with what one has and the desire for the ‘other’. What follows are multiple large group sequences – ballrooms, train stations, a racecourse. Whether there were too many dancers or too large a set for the Zellerbach stage, the movement within these larger scenes got muddled and crowded from time to time. For me, the choreography was stronger (and quite mesmerizing) when there were fewer people present - smaller groups, solos or the many duets. 

Act II’s first scene was perhaps my favorite of the evening, a brilliant pas de trois between Anna, Vronsky and Anna’s husband (Dylan Gutierrez). What a moment Possokhov built showing the interconnectedness and shared reality of these three characters. Arising out of that trio was an equally moving pas de deux for the two men. Unison phrases indicated and acknowledged how their lives were following the same track – in love with Anna, wanting her, and wanting her to want them. While I found this part of the ballet particularly compelling, I must say that I was totally enthralled with all of Act II. I know this because I barely took any notes. I just wanted to be in the room, witnessing the wonder that Possokhov, his team and the company was birthing onstage. The only spot where Act II lost momentum was during the lengthy epilogue, where the ballet heads to the rural countryside. The urban/rural dichotomy certainly plays a role in the source material, but these were the final moments of the ballet. It felt rushed (and a bit of an afterthought) to introduce a new theme at this juncture. 

The Berkeley Symphony, conducted by Scott Speck, impressively rose to the technical challenges and grand dynamics of Ilya Demutsky’s score. And Metzger’s vocals were equally sublime. Though as often happens when vocalists are paired with a full orchestra, the sound balance isn’t always ideal. When the orchestra was at full volume, it was sometimes difficult to hear the vocal line.

 

San Francisco Ballet - "A Midsummer Night's Dream"

San Francisco Ballet in Balanchine's A Midsummer Night's Dream Choreography by George Balanchine © The Balanchine Trust Photo © Lindsay Thomas

San Francisco Ballet
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco
March 12, 2024

I think a number of Bay Area dance goers have déjà vu right now. I certainly do. In the first week of March four years ago, I was scheduled to take in two shows – The Joffrey Ballet at Cal Performances and A Midsummer Night’s Dream at San Francisco Ballet. I was super excited for both performances. Midsummer, in particular, for two reasons. In 2020, I had had the lovely opportunity to interview Sandra Jennings, who had staged the work on the company, and in addition, this was going to be the first time SFB would dance the narrative in over thirty years. But the universe had other plans, and COVID shut down everything. SFB did give one performance of the ballet (and a filmed version of Midsummer was included in SFB’s 2021 digital season), as I sat in the audience at Zellerbach Hall in Berkeley. Most of us never did see Midsummer live, that is until this past Tuesday night. What a treat to finally witness George Balanchine’s 1962 sojourn into Shakespeare’s comical story, made all the more dazzling by Christian Lacroix’s updated and rich Scenic and Costume Design. It was fun. It was joyful. And while titled A Midsummer Night’s Dream, there couldn’t be a ballet more suited for spring, with the florals, the forest, the winged beings and all the sparkling colors.

Those familiar with Shakespeare’s source material know that the play opens with the promise of an ultimate celebration, the soon-to-be wedding between Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, and Theseus, Duke of Athens (Nikisha Fogo and Daniel Deivison-Oliveira on opening night). Five acts of hilarious romps and entertaining shenanigans follow. There’s humor, crossed connections, romance, confusion, impatience, mischief and spells. Very Noises Off. Balanchine envisioned a shorter, compressed adaptation for the ballet audience. His Midsummer unfolds over two acts, with an expanded wedding (for three couples) taking place in the final thirty minutes and the bulk of the action playing out in the first seventy-five (truth be told, Act I does come off as a bit lengthy). So, when the viewer is thrust into this mystical fairyland of wonder and amazement, it really feels like one is entering a living storybook, where we encounter all the various characters, see how they relate to each other and learn of their wants and desires. The romantic and lovelorn. The confidently regal. The prankish personalities.

Speaking of the different characters, there was an abundance, to be sure! Midsummer boasts a huge cast, and it truly is an ensemble ballet if ever there was one. There are the expected principal moments, but so many different roles are featured and highlighted throughout, including over twenty talented and well-rehearsed young students from the San Francisco Ballet School. Sasha De Sola and Esteban Hernández were the picture of royalty and elegance as Titania and Oberon, while Cavan Conley’s Puck orchestrated events like a gleefully wicked child. Hernández was the stand-out performer of the evening, with a flawless batterie variation in the first act. Oberon’s choreography seems impossibly difficult, yet Hernández more than delivers. All of the choreography was really quite magical. Flowy and lilty phrases abounded, as did some of Balanchine’s signature movements. The purposefully bent knee on relevé; the flexed palms. Flingy double attitude jumps; the exploration of demi-pointe in pointe shoes. We had been transported to another land that night, but it was definitely Balanchine’s land.

Act II’s wedding serves as a longer coda to the ballet, almost like a visual expression of the ‘happily ever after’ line at the end of classic fairytales. The dancing was celebratory and sweet, especially the pas de deux from Frances Chung and Isaac Hernández. But it was a shame that not everyone saw the splendor of the wedding scene. As Act I concluded, there was a full cast series of bows. Empty seats after intermission clearly indicated that some folks assumed that the ballet was over. And it did feel like the end. Did we really need the bows at the midway point?

A Midsummer Night’s Dream runs until March 23rd.