Today I saw the matinee Program B of the San Francisco Ballet's New Works Festival. The Links section has links to some interesting and thoughtful reviews; I'll just give some of my own impressions.
After Alastair Macaulay's comment in the Times that the first three works in this program were 'ghastly', I approached the afternoon matinee with a good bit of trepidation. Not to worry: some good, some interesting, some just plain weird, but mostly reasonably entertaining.
Naked
Choreographer: Stanton Welch
Composer: Poulenc (Concerto in D minor for Two Pianos)
My alternate title: How to be Naked with All Your Clothes On
Not sure why this was called Naked; everyone was fully clothed -- men in pinkish pants and shirts, women in conventional pancake tutus, also pinkish. Plotless, slight, pretty, utterly conventional. Pleasant enough, but of the four works today, this is the only one I wouldn't really care to see again.
A Rose By Any Other Name
Choreographer: Julia Adam
Composer: J.S. Bach (Goldberg Variations, arranged for orchestra by Matthew Naughton and Martin West)
My alternate title: How Aurora Grows Up and Becomes a Lingerie Model
I'd read some pretty negative comments about this, but it turned out to be enjoyable, though it could have done with five minutes cut out.
So, here's the Sleeping Beauty story, filtered through Ms. Adam: Aurora's mom and dad meet, fall in love, get married, shed their clothes, have their wedding night, and produce a baby, all within the first four minutes. Aurora appears and spends the rest of the ballet sometimes wearing, mostly not, a fetching little teddy. At some point, the fairies (danced by men who double as suitors and, later, a forest) give their gifts. Particularly funny: Beauty who manages to twist himself into various pretzel shapes while keeping his mirror planted firmly in front of his face; and Generosity, who graciously gives away all his money and then has second thoughts (I mean, we are paying $4+ for gas out here in California, so, really, who can blame him). Carabosse, who's definitely got some issues, shows up and gives Aurora the fatal spindle. A gigantic black pillow is produced, Aurora goes to sleep on it, the Prince (who also danced Lilac, though I'm not sure when) fights his way through the forest (fairies/suitors carrying tree branches), sees Aurora, falls instantly in love (must be that teddy), tries to wake her by picking up a foot (which flops), arm (flops), head (flops), tries to turn her over (splat - falls off the pillow); finally, she starts to revive but can't quite maintain the vertical. At last, she recovers, falls instantly in love with the Prince, off comes the teddy, curtain down. Maybe a little slapstick and lowbrow, but more fun that I expected.
Adam has a very individual sense of movement: there was an almost Egyptian feel to the sideways, hands forward stance used repeatedly. I'd love to see more of her work, preferably something with a little less plot.
Cast was great, Kristin Long as Aurora particularly appealing. According to Maria Kochetkova's website, she also learned this role and I think she'd be very good.
The Ruins Proclaim the Building Was Beautiful
Choreography: James Kudelka
Composer: Rodney Sharman after Cesar Franck
My alternate title: How the Costume Designer Went Wacko with the Pinking Shears
According to the program notes, this ballet deals with the social decay of civilization. Kind of a lot for a 30 minute ballet.
Corps de ballet of 12 women enters wearing tattered tutus and fright wigs (I think they represent 'social decay' though it looks more like 'tutu decay'). After some dancing in the dark (crepuscular lighting throughout), three men appear wearing gray Victorian frock coats, gray makeup on faces and bare chests, and Beethoven wigs (think Sweeney Todd with attitude). They dance with the corps, wave their arms like airplane propellers, and generally look menacing. During all of this, two female soloists in longer tattered tutus dance. Don't know what they're supposed to be. About 2/3 of the way through, Yuan Yuan Tan shows up wearing a red dress and red high-heeled shoes (red shoes: you KNOW that means trouble). Everyone else disappears, she and the main gray man (Pierre-Francois Vilanoba) have not so much a pas de deux as a pas de hissy fit: she pushes him, he pushes back, she kicks out, he restrains her. This goes on for a while, finally she ends up on the floor, face up, corpselike, he folds his arms and smirks. Yup, another uppity woman bites the dust.
The work was saved by the superb performances by the two soloists in the longer tattered tutus, Frances Chung and Elana Altman. Tan is always lovely, but she's as fragile as an icicle and doesn't come across as a match for the beefy Vilanoba. I'd live to see someone like Sarah Van Patten in the role; if she pushes the drama button, that would be a fight of equals.
On the whole, very, very weird, worth it for the fine performances.
Joyride
Choreographer: Mark Morris
Composer: John Adams (Son of Chamber Symphony)
My alternate title: Gee Mr. Morris, Why Are the Dancers Dressed Up Like Cans of Tuna Fish?
Well, it's not really that bad, but the costumes by Isaac Mizrahi do have that look at first. Some full length neck to ankle, some neck to mid-thigh (like biker shorts), all either silver or gold metallic. Digital numbers on the midriffs flash randomly (tuna talk?). Odd, but effective with Morris' breakneck, spiky choreography. There are movements like kick boxing; sometimes the dancers take the position of a racer at the starting line; sometimes a pose vaguely resembling a body builder. The whole thing is headlong and a good showcase for these fine dancers. For example, a couple of times, the dancers, in unison, do a simple double pirouette, but they do it together, rotate at the same speed, end -- BAM -- exactly together. I suspect that's partly the dancers' skill and partly the music; it gives no quarter -- you're either on the beat or lost in the Pine Barrens. Superb performances all around and undoubtedly the major work of the program.
Sunday: Program A
