With The Sleeping Beauty all wrapped up at the War Memorial Opera House, it’s officially the halfway point for San Francisco Ballet’s 2019 repertory season. Last season’s Unbound: A Festival of New Works (which I blogged about HERE) gave the company twelve world premieres, several of which are being repeated this season. But 2019 brings its own two world premieres, which are forthcoming, in Programs 5 and 6.
Program 5, “Lyric Voices,” which runs March 27 through April 7, features the world premiere of Yuri Possokhov’s “. . . two united in a single soul . . .” It’s choreographer-in-residence Possokhov’s 15th work created for the San Francisco Ballet, and he’s drawn from the Greek myth of Narcissus, the hunter who falls in love with his own reflection in a forest spring and wastes away, pining for unattainable love. Possokhov, whose work for the San Francisco Ballet includes The Rite of Spring, Firebird and Swimmer, utilizes thirteen dancers, including Narcissus, who explore moments of connection, reflection and refraction.
The ballet’s music holds its own allure to me. Possokhov commissioned a score by Russian composer Daria Novo, who has fused arias by Handel—performed live, in rotation, by countertenors Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen and Matheus Coura—with electronic elements (audio plug-ins, libraries, sound effects) and her own music. The music, the countertenors, might sound surprisingly familiar to some. Remember that 1994 movie, Farinelli, a biographical drama about the 18th-century castrato Carlo Broschi?
Countertenors are today’s equivalent to the famous castrati (do I need to translate what makes them sing so high?) of the 17th and 18th centuries, and Possokhov cites the music from Farinelli as further inspiration for his ballet. “It’s the combination of the dancing and the singing that I love so much. I knew I wanted voice, and I’m fond of countertenors. The ballet is set nowhere; it’s just space-somewhere, somehow. And the voice is like the echo in the myth.”
“Lyric Voices” also includes two ballets returning from last year’s Unbound Festival. They are Trey McIntyre’s Your Flesh Shall Be a Great Poem and Christopher Wheeldon’s Bound To. Additional information about the program can be found on San Francisco Ballet’s website, in its Discover section. Dates run Wed March 27 to Sun April 7 (concurrent with Program 6). Tickets start at $32 and may be purchased via the Ticket Services Office at 415 865 2000, Monday through Friday from 10 am to 4 pm or online at www.sfballet.org.
I can’t stop thinking about the music from Farinelli –– it’s a favorite soundtrack of mine. I have a hunch Possokhov’s ballet will include the gorgeous “Lascia Ch’io Pianga” from Handel’s Rinaldo, so to get you in the mood, here you go, something for my ballet readers and classical music readers alike.
And now about the World Premiere for Program 6, Liam Scarlett’s Die Toteninsel. It, too, includes a stunning, memorable work of classical music, Rachmaninoff’s “The Isle of the Dead.” Die Toteninsel is its German translation, and is also the name of the iconic painting by Swiss Symbolist artist Arnold Böcklin (see the embed below). Rachmaninoff’s symphonic tone poem, like the painting, is stirring and spooky and amazing; it made the list for my “10 Spooky Classical Faves for Halloween” post, which you can find HERE.
English choreographer Scarlett, artist in residence at The Royal Ballet, has created other memorable works for The San Francisco Ballet: Hummingbird, Fearful Symmetries and Frankenstein. Similar to the latter, Die Toteninsel exhibits the darkness and uneasy qualities of beauty (or, paradoxically, the beautiful qualities of darkness and unease). As Caitlin Sims explains in program notes, Scarlett uses the music and its history as a jumping off point for a more abstract work exploring the deep-rooted questions about what lies beyond this life. If Scarlett’s Frankenstein was a choreographic novel, his new ballet is more a short story—in which symbolism, movement motifs, and ambiguity both color the work and give viewers room to make diverse, individual interpretations.
Scarlett draws upon the music’s repetitiveness and its unique 5/8 time signature in creating movement that grows and builds, then unexpectedly echoes itself. As a central couple emerges, surging forward and sweeping back in great arcs, their movements are reflected by groups that form and dissipate as easily as waves, giving the ephemeral “a sense of weight, and passing through one another,” says Scarlett.
Give the music a listen. It’s stunning. And the image, by the way, is the famous painting.
Also featured in Program 6 are Justin Peck’s 2015 Rodeo: Four Dances and Arthur Pita’s Björk Ballet (from last year’s Unbound Festival).Additional information about the program can be found on San Francisco Ballet’s website, in its Discover section. Dates run Friday March 29 to Tuesday April 9 (concurrent with Program 5). Tickets start at $32 and may be purchased via the Ticket Services Office at 415 865 2000, Monday through Friday from 10 am to 4 pm or online at www.sfballet.org.
Prepare yourself, dance world. San Francisco Ballet’s Unbound,a festival featuring twelve new works, is about to land in San Francisco. And it’s going to be big. An unprecedented, mind-expanding, creatively explosive extravaganza that includes the following:
Twelve internationally acclaimed choreographers
Four programs running through seventeen days
Twelve world premieres
Glorious, fresh, neoclassical ballet
Boldly inventive experimental ballet
Music that runs the gamut from classical to electronica
An affiliated symposium open to the public
Choreographer interviews and rehearsals archived to watch at your convenience
Curious about programs, dates, a sneak peek? You came to the right place! First the sneak peek…
Now onto the programs…
Program A Sculpted space. Digital dependency. Classicism in sneakers. Three unique voices offer three distinct takes on where ballet’s headed.
THE COLLECTIVE AGREEMENT – Choreographer: Alonzo King; Composer: Jason Moran
Program C The ephemeral in the eternal. Family heritage. Savage beauty. Three artists move forward while drawing from the past.
BESPOKE – Choreographer: Stanton Welch; Composer: Johann Sebastian Bach
YOUR FLESH SHALL BE A GREAT POEM – Choreographer: Trey McIntyre; Composer: Chris Garneau
GUERNICA – Choreographer: Annabelle Lopez Ochoa; Composers: Joe Andrews, Michel Banabila, Tom Halstead, and Charles Valentin-Alkan
Dates: Tue, Apr 24, 7:30pm; Fri, Apr 27, 8pm; Wed, May 2, 7:30pm; Sat, May 5, 2pm
Program D The space between life and death. Passionate connectivity. The music of Björk. Three dancemakers evoke the spiritual connections that span life and death, the beauty and pain in relationships, and a surrealist dream ballet.
THE INFINITE OCEAN – Choreographer: Edwaard Liang; Composer: Oliver Davis
LET’S BEGIN AT THE END – Choreographer: Dwight Rhoden; Composers: Johann Sebastian Bach, Philip Glass, and Michael Nyman
BJÖRK BALLET – Choreographer: Arthur Pita; Composers: Björk Gudmundsdottir and Sjón
Dates: Thu, Apr 26, 7:30pm; Sat, Apr 28, 2pm; Tue, May 1, 7:30pm; Sat, May 5, 8pm
Boundless: A Symposium on Ballet’s Future Bringing together noted artists, scholars, and critics, this event provides an opportunity for discussion, debate, and collaboration about ballet in the 21st century.
Dates: April 27-29th. Details and times can be found HERE.
Unbound Live Highlights Clips from past live stream productions that give you a behind-the-scenes look at the Unbound ballets being rehearsed, featuring interviews and excerpts of choreography.
Now. Ready to see some gorgeous dance films? Each one was inspired by a new work from Unbound. All are original short films that bear the name of their world premiere ballet.
Cathy Marston’s Snowblind
Snowblind “was inspired by Edith Wharton’s novella ‘Ethan Frome.'” Director: Mark Kohr; Choreographer: Cathy Marston; Producer: Jesus Peña; Music: 2 Piano Pieces, Op. 62, No. 2 Exaltation by Arthur Foote, Arranged by Philip Feeney; Director of Photography: Steve Condotti; Editor: Mark Kohr; Dancers: Mathilde Froustey, Sarah Van Patten, Ulrik Birkkjaer
Dwight Rhoden’s LET’S BEGIN AT THE END
LET’S BEGIN AT THE END Director: Matthew Mckee; Choreographer: Dwight Rhoden; Producers: Christine Busby & Steve Condotti; Music: Michael Nyman; Director of Photography: Joe Lindsay; Editor: Matthew Mckee; Dancers: Frances Chung, Sasha De Sola, Jennifer Stahl, Ulrik Birkkjaer, Benjamin Freemantle, Angelo Greco, Esteban Hernandez
Alonzo King’s The Collective Agreement
The Collective Agreement Director: Kate Duhamel; Producer: Jesus Peña; Choreographer: Alonzo King; Music: “The Collective Agreement,” written, published, and performed by Jason Moran; Director of Photography: Jesse Eisenhardt; Editor: Kate Duhamel; Visual Effects Artist: Brandon McFarland; Dancers: Sofiane Sylve, Tiit Helimets, Max Cauthorn, Jahna Frantziskonis, James Sofranko, Anna Sophia Scheller, Solomon Golding
Annabelle Lopez Ochoa’s Guernica
Guernica “found inspiration in the art of Picasso.” Director: Kate Duhamel; Choreographer: Annabelle Lopez Ochoa; Music: “Jump Cuts” written, published, and performed by Michel Banabila; Director of Photography: Heath Orchard; Editor: Kate Duhamel; Visual Effects Artist: Brandon McFarland; Dancers: Dores Andre, Solomon Golding, Julia Rowe, Myles Thatcher
Tickets are going fast for this amazing event, so don’t wait too long! To check dates, pricing and availability online, go HERE. (Choose the program and dates you’re considering, and click on “tickets” in lower right hand of screen.) Otherwise you can call the San Francisco Ballet ticket office at (415) 865 2000, Monday through Friday, between 10 am and 4 pm, Pacific Time. (On performance nights, the phone lines will remain open until showtime.)
“The National Ballet of Canada’s production of John Neumeier’s Nijinsky is a triumph on all fronts.” — Canada’s The Globe and Mail
While the San Francisco Ballet keeps busy in preparation for its epic *Unbound New Works Festival, with its twelve exciting new commissions, the stage at the War Memorial Opera House gets turned over to The National Ballet of Canada and their presentation of John Neumeier’s Nijinsky. Watching this preview of Neumeier’s masterpiece, all I can say is, “Oh, wow. Give me more. And more!” Take a look for yourself.
Choreographer John Neumeier is the longtime artistic director of the Hamburg Ballet, on whom he set this ballet in 2000. Not only is Neumeier one of contemporary ballet’s most important voices, he is a world authority on the life and work of Vaslav Nijinsky, having maintained a lifelong interest in the artist. The National Ballet of Canada’s website shares this about the charismatic Nijinsky who stunned and entranced audiences for a brief ten years before retiring from the stage at age twenty-nine. “Renowned for his unforgettable stage presence, his astonishing technique and his groundbreaking approach to choreographic expression, Nijinsky shattered for all time not just the prevailing notions and expectations of the male dancer, but the limitations that convention had imposed on the range of dramatic possibilities in dance itself.”
Neumeier’s ballet draws from several aspects of Nijinsky’s life, presented in a meditative, non-linear fashion, that ultimately reflects the madness that will come to consume him. The ballet’s opening scene is set just after WW I in a hotel in St. Moritz, Switzerland, where the real-life Nijinsky offered the audience his final performance as a dancer. Through this, we, the other audience, become privy to the man’s memories, his genius, his choreography, important relationships and life events, premonitions, and the madness that seemed to have taken over the world, as well.
The music accompanying the production, for my classical music enthusiast readers out there, features Chopin’s Prélude in C minor, the first movement of Schumann’s Faschingsschwank aus Wien, Rimsky-Korsakov’s sumptuous Schéhérazade (Movements I, III and IV), the “Adagio” movement from Shostakovich’s Sonata for Viola and Piano, as well as his Symphony No. 11.
Here’s what critics are saying about the production:
“A triumph of dramatic intensity… the National Ballet rises to the challenge of presenting John Neumeier’s Nijinsky, a spectacular, sprawling, surreal and often mind-bending homage to ballet’s most legendary male dancer.” — Toronto Star
“Nijinsky soars to intense heights… a richly detailed production” — National Post
“Under the enlightened and demanding direction of Karen Kain, former great international ballet star, the company has earned its place at the highest level, enriching its repertory considerably by collaborating with the greatest choreographers of our time” — Danses Avec La Plume
Here is National Ballet of Canada dancer Félix Paquet explaining about what’s required from him as he portrays Nijinsky as the Faun and the Golden Slave, both iconic Nijinsky roles that are featured in Neumeier’s ballet. it’s fascinating and informative to watch.
Interested in going? Here are some details for you:
Where? War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness, San Francisco When? April 3 to 8, 2018, 7 performances total
How? Purchase tickets online HERE or call (415) 865-2000 Run Time 2 hours, 25 minutes, with one intermission
Principal casting for the San Francisco dates of the production has been announced!
Guillaume Côté (April 3, 6 at 7:30 pm/April 8 at 2:00 pm)
Skylar Campbell (April 4 at 7:30 pm/April 7 at 2:00 pm)
Francesco Gabriele Frola (April 5 at 7:30 pm/April 7 at 7:30 pm)
Heather Ogden (April 3 at 7:30 pm/April 8 at 2:00 pm)
Sonia Rodriguez (April 4 at 7:30 pm/April 7 at 2:00 pm)
Svetlana Lunkina (April 5, 7 at 7:30 pm)
Xiao Nan Yu (April 6 at 7:30 pm)
Ben Rudisin (April 3, 6 at 7:30 pm/April 8 at 2:00 pm)
Piotr Stanczyk (April 4, 5, 7 at 7:30 pm/April 7 at 2:00 pm)
Casting is subject to change
* San Francisco Ballet’s Unbound: a Festival of New Works isa ground-breaking celebration of innovation within ballet, featuring twelve new commissions and world premieres, taking place in four programs, April 20 to May 6, 2018. Want to know more? Here’s a preview from the San Francisco Chronicle. For further information or to order tickets, go HERE.
Just as my last blog, “Debussy’s ‘Afternoon of a Faun,'” offered a teaser of this blog and this program at the San Francisco War Memorial Opera House, I can’t resist ending this with a teaser of San Francisco Ballet’s forthcoming Unbound extravaganza. It’s going to be an amazing two weeks, chock full of amazing, innovative ballet. The following is a photo shoot that features the company’s dancers in poses from featured Unbound works that photographer Erik Tomasson turns into stunning art. Check it out!
When I listen to Debussy’s “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun,” often referred to as simply “Afternoon of a Faun,” I’m reminded of the vertiginous feeling of gazing at a 3-D computer-generated picture, one that, once you’ve allowed your eyes and brain to shift slightly, draws you inside a world you previously hadn’t been able to see. Here, now, you’ve entered a phantasmagorical place, with spiraling, descending pathways and billowing shapes that your eyes can slide down or climb up, respectively. A world where the tried-and-true rules don’t apply. I don’t know about you, but I love the feeling, the sensations. It never fails to take me on an inner journey, far from my mundane thoughts, the dreary to-do treadmill of daily life.
It’s no surprise Debussy’s “Afternoon of a Faun”—or “Prélude à L’Aprés-midi d’un Faune” in its original French—is one of my favorite short pieces of classical music. It’s held me in its grips from the moment I first heard its opening solo flute notes, the responding call by a horn, a harp. Debussy was not a “follow the set rules” kind of guy. He was pretty much the opposite. In his compositions, the “rules according to my tastes” deliver volumes of sensation. A warm afternoon. A time long ago, back in the days of mythical creatures. Nymphs and fauns and lush foliage and shimmering waves of summer heat. Unexpected emotions rise, within the music and the listener both. Languor, sensuality, euphoria, curiosity, an awareness of the exotic. You are flung back to your own childhood, your adolescence, all awash in new experiences, colors, sensations. You are every place you’ve always wanted to be, your heart contracting and expanding, seemingly at the same time. For ten fleeting minutes, you let the music cradle you, transport you. Afterward, it leaves you disoriented and a little dizzy. You stumble away, back to the everyday world, your everyday life, and yet forever altered from the experience.
I like to imagine how the audience must have reacted in that opening performance in Paris, 1894. This was still the Romantic era, after all, with its conventions on tonality, scales, sequences. Audiences were used to hearing Beethoven and Brahms and maybe a little Wagner if they were feeling the urge for something turbulent. Chopin, a generation earlier, had dazzled with his pianistic originality, just as Saint Saens had managed to impart a touch of the exotic into his own compositions. But Debussy? He was young, still rather green, known to chafe against the constraints the masters before him, through the years, had mandated in musical composition. He loved literature and art, and for Prélude à L’Aprés-midi d’un Faune, he’d taken, as inspiration, a poem by one of France’s greatest poets at the time, Stéphane Mallarmé, and his 1876 creation, “L’Aprés-midi d’un Faune.” The poem was a work of art, having taken the poet a decade of deep searching, pondering, revising, to come up with a finished, published product that was, in his mind, music already. (Mallarmé was part of the “symbolist” movement of poetry, that, in a nutshell, strove to evoke, to illuminate, elaborate on the human condition,) So, here’s this 1894 concert hall audience, all expectant, knowing the poem: sensuous, story-like musings of a faun—mythical half man, half goat—and his erotic pursuit of two nymphs on a warm, drowsy afternoon. The lights in the concert hall darken, the musicians ready themselves, the conductor raises his baton, and you hear… this.
Stirred you, didn’t it?
If you’re like me, you might wonder what sort of mystical alchemy was involved, that Debussy’s music can do so much more than, say, Brahms, whose music is decidedly masterful and at the top of its craft. I think It has to do with the fact that, like the symbolist poets, there was a drive to consider the vast sprawling world of inner feelings, the human condition, the resolutely ineffable. It’s interesting to note that the French poets of this time, which Debussy so admired, considered music to be the pinnacle of art — not necessarily the music you hear in a concert hall, so much as the “music” that arises from the finest of art works. Mallarmé’s reaction to Debussy’s turning his poem into “real” music is debated–some say he was pleased, and complimented Debussy on the effort. Others say he mildly resented that his poem, so full of “music” already, was now eclipsed by Debussy’s music. The guy had a point. Who hears the title “Afternoon of a Faun” and thinks, “Ah, yes, that poem! Mallarmé’s opus!”
Care for 10 interesting factoids about Debussy? Here you go!
He was born Achille (pronounced as a “shhh”)-Claude de Bussy in 1862.
In spite of an aristocratic-sounding name, he came from a poor family and was schooled at home (while his siblings were shipped out), obtaining private piano lessons more by unexpected circumstances and good fortune more than planning and good funding.
He was accepted to the Paris Conservatory of Music at the age of 10, where, over the next eleven years, they would endlessly chide him for “courting the unusual” and encourage him to deliver something “more befitting of his great talent,” which was to say, the same old thing they’d been hearing for generations.
He was the 1884 recipient of the highly prestigious Prix de Rome, which gave him a four-year residence at Rome’s Villa Medici, which he hated, and was miserable, and [barely] lasted two years before returning to his beloved Paris, where he lived for most of his life.
While he resisted much of the traditional schooling that came his way, both in music and academia, as an adult, he read voraciously and enjoyed socializing with the literati. He was a frequenter of Stéphane Mallarmé’s famous Mardis (Tuesdays) salon, the place for poets, artists and literary minds to gather in 1890’s Paris.
His musical inspiration came frequently from poetry. I’ve shared, in past blogs HERE and HERE the way this shows up in the works, “Clair de Lune” and “Beau Soir.”
Debussy had originally planned for this work to be three part: a prelude, an interlude, and a paraphrase finale. Sidetracked by work on his opera after he’d completed the Prelude, he dropped the idea of two more parts.
Wagnerian opera, and Javanese gamelan music, fascinated and engaged the young composer, each playing a part in his artistic development, leaving an imprint that would resurface in his music.
Even though Debussy’s work was considered by many to be the peak representation of musical impressionism, he himself disliked that term, and saw himself as a “modernist.”
He died during the final year of World War I, unable to have a public gravesite funeral service because of the constant aerial bombing of the French capital by the Germans.
Above all, Debussy was a composer who defined a moment—that in which the classical music world would begin to question all rules of harmony and composition. “Works of art make rules; rules do not make works of art,” he once famously said. While he’s still considered by most to be a Late Romantic composer more than of the Modern school, you can see him and his style’s clear demarcation. Tchaikovsky and Brahms, Dvorák, Grieg, Liszt, all came before. Bartók, Prokofiev, Ravel, Sibelius, Shostakovich and Stravinsky all came after. Pierre Boulez famously pronounced Debussy’s “Prelude to an Afternoon of a Faun” to be “the beginning of modern music.”
I find it so fitting that Debussy’s ground-breaking “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun” should be utilized, eighteen years later, by another legendary, ground-breaking artist. In 1912, ballet phenomenon Vaslav Nijinsky, then with Serge Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes, created his ballet, “Afternoon of a Faun.” He was the lead dancer; no one else could have done it justice. No one else could have so shocked the public, foretelling a new, modern realm of dance to come. The vitality, originality and willful disdain of long-held rules that Nijinsky brought to his art makes him seem like Debussy’s twin. And for Nijinsky, much like Debussy, the newness and overt sensuality of the opening performance in Paris shocked and disturbed some of spectators. This was not the art they’d come to know and had grown familiar with. This was new and vivid, with all sorts of new flavors and textures to consider. It didn’t just stir the soul, it stirred… other parts.
But we’ll leave this blog to Debussy. Not only does Nijinsky deserve his own blog, the National Ballet of Canada will be coming to San Francisco in April to perform “Nijinsky,” John Neumeier’s evening-length ballet about the man, his art, his madness. The Classical Girl is SO looking forward to this production. I’ll be posting a blog preview of the production in the week to come. (Editor’s note: it’s done and you can read it HERE.) In the meantime, however, I can’t resist giving you a flavor of what happens when Debussy and Nijinsky–and we mustn’t forget Stéphane Mallarmé’s poetry–put their considerable talents together for an unforgettable “Afternoon of a Faun.” The dancer is Rudolf Nureyev, another legend that some day I’ll devote a blog to. This recording is old, which, in my mind, only adds to its sensuous, evocative allure. I can feel Nijinsky’s presence all the more clearly.
All right, I have to add one more. It’s taken from the 1980 Herbert Ross film, Nijinsky. So it’s Hollywood’s version of Nijinsky premiering “Afternoon of a Faun” in Paris’ Theatre du Chatelet. It’s really good, and allows you to see certain nuances up close. But, be warned. The end of the ballet is… racy. But so was Nijinsky. Pushing those borders. And so was Debussy. All for art. Give it a look, if you dare. (Warning, this music will stay in your head ALL DAY once you’ve left this page. My apologies.)
Okay, one last thing, and this time I mean it..
Mallarmé’s 1876 masterpiece poem is damned long. But it’s lush and sensuous, and, really, you sort of do need to read the poem in order to understand what both Debussy and Nijinsky were striving to put into music, and movement, respectively. This is one of several translations that exist from the original French. If you read and find it lacking, please do share a translation you feel is better.
L’Aprés-midi d’un Faune
These nymphs, I would perpetuate them.
Their crimson flesh that hovers there, light
In the air drowsy with dense slumbers.
Did I love a dream?
My doubt, mass of ancient night, ends extreme
In many a subtle branch, that remaining the true
Woods themselves, proves, alas, that I too
Offered myself, alone, as triumph, the false ideal of roses.
or if those women you note
Reflect your fabulous senses’ desire!
Faun, illusion escapes from the blue eye,
Cold, like a fount of tears, of the most chaste:
But the other, she, all sighs, contrasts you say
Like a breeze of day warm on your fleece?
No! Through the swoon, heavy and motionless
Stifling with heat the cool morning’s struggles
No water, but that which my flute pours, murmurs
To the grove sprinkled with melodies: and the sole breeze
Out of the twin pipes, quick to breathe
Before it scatters the sound in an arid rain,
Is unstirred by any wrinkle of the horizon,
The visible breath, artificial and serene,
Of inspiration returning to heights unseen
O Sicilian shores of a marshy calm
My vanity plunders vying with the sun,
Silent beneath scintillating flowers, RELATE
‘That I was cutting hollow reeds here tamed
By talent: when, on the green gold of distant
Verdure offering its vine to the fountains,
An animal whiteness undulates to rest:
And as a slow prelude in which the pipes exist
This flight of swans, no, of Naiads cower
Inert, all things burn in the tawny hour
Not seeing by what art there fled away together
Too much of hymen desired by one who seeks there
The natural A: then I’ll wake to the primal fever
Erect, alone, beneath the ancient flood, light’s power,
Lily! And the one among you all for artlessness.
Other than this sweet nothing shown by their lip, the kiss
That softly gives assurance of treachery,
My breast, virgin of proof, reveals the mystery
Of the bite from some illustrious tooth planted;
Let that go! Such the arcane chose for confidant,
The great twin reed we play under the azure ceiling,
That turning towards itself the cheek’s quivering,
Dreams, in a long solo, so we might amuse
The beauties round about by false notes that confuse
Between itself and our credulous singing;
And create as far as love can, modulating,
The vanishing, from the common dream of pure flank
Or back followed by my shuttered glances,
Of a sonorous, empty and monotonous line.
Try then, instrument of flights, O malign
Syrinx by the lake where you await me, to flower again!
I, proud of my murmur, intend to speak at length
Of goddesses: and with idolatrous paintings
Remove again from shadow their waists’ bindings:
So that when I’ve sucked the grapes’ brightness
To banish a regret done away with by my pretence,
Laughing, I raise the emptied stem to the summer’s sky
And breathing into those luminous skins, then I,
Desiring drunkenness, gaze through them till evening.
O nymphs, let’s rise again with many memories.
‘My eye, piercing the reeds, speared each immortal
Neck that drowns its burning in the water
With a cry of rage towards the forest sky;
And the splendid bath of hair slipped by
In brightness and shuddering, O jewels!
I rush there: when, at my feet, entwine (bruised
By the languor tasted in their being-two’s evil)
Girls sleeping in each other’s arms’ sole peril:
I seize them without untangling them and run
To this bank of roses wasting in the sun
All perfume, hated by the frivolous shade
Where our frolic should be like a vanished day.
I adore you, wrath of virgins, O shy
Delight of the nude sacred burden that glides
Away to flee my fiery lip, drinking
The secret terrors of the flesh like quivering
Lightning: from the feet of the heartless one
To the heart of the timid, in a moment abandoned
By innocence wet with wild tears or less sad vapours.
‘Happy at conquering these treacherous fears
My crime’s to have parted the dishevelled tangle
Of kisses that the gods kept so well mingled:
For I’d scarcely begun to hide an ardent laugh
In one girl’s happy depths (holding back
With only a finger, so that her feathery candor
Might be tinted by the passion of her burning sister,
The little one, naïve and not even blushing)
Than from my arms, undone by vague dying,
This prey, forever ungrateful, frees itself and is gone,
Not pitying the sob with which I was still drunk.’
No matter! Others will lead me towards happiness
By the horns on my brow knotted with many a tress:
You know, my passion, how ripe and purple already
Every pomegranate bursts, murmuring with the bees:
And our blood, enamoured of what will seize it,
Flows for all the eternal swarm of desire yet.
At the hour when this wood with gold and ashes heaves
A feast’s excited among the extinguished leaves:
Etna! It’s on your slopes, visited by Venus
Setting in your lava her heels so artless,
When a sad slumber thunders where the flame burns low.
I hold the queen!
O certain punishment…
No, but the soul
Void of words, and this heavy body,
Succumb to noon’s proud silence slowly:
With no more ado, forgetting blasphemy, I
Must sleep, lying on the thirsty sand, and as I
Love, open my mouth to wine’s true constellation!
Farewell to you, both: I go to see the shadow you have become.
Tchaikovsky’s “Waltz of the Flowers” is still looping through my mind, even as the curtain closed for the last time on San Francisco Ballet’s Nutcracker last weekend. I’m crazy about this production; I’ve raved about it HERE and HERE. You can see my Bachtrack review of this year’s opening night performance HERE. I like to attend the production a second time, later in the run, which gives me the opportunity to see different casts. The Dec 27th matinee performance was fantastic, as fresh as opening night, due in part to a sublime rendition by the San Francisco Ballet Orchestra, Martin West conducting. Standouts included Angelo Greco’s Nutcracker Prince, Nathaniel Remez’s King of the Mice, Frances Chung and Vitor Luiz as Queen and King of the Snow, Mathilde Froustey’s Sugar Plum Fairy, all of Spanish Dance (Lauren Parrott, Natasha Sheehan, Davide Occhipinti, Mingxuan Wang, Adrian Zeisel – who, WOW, might still be a student with the ballet school). I could go on and on. In fact, I will; scroll down to the bottom of this blog for more mentions.
But the performance I found particularly unforgettable was Ana Sophia Scheller with Angelo Greco in the Grand Pas de Deux, which produced a visceral reaction of wow, this is a dazzler in me. Beautiful adage, fabulous solos, great onstage chemistry between the two dancers. Just before the adage ends, when the music turns tender, almost sorrowful, the way the two of them connected, with eye contact and something more elusive, gave me prickles. It made me feel like I was watching something extraordinary. Certainly they both have extraordinary talents. She is new, a principal, and he was promoted to principal last season. Thrilling, to watch a new partnership take hold. It’s a very exciting time for the San Francisco Ballet, with so many promotions announced in 2017 (and, regrettably, departures of favored dancers). In fact, before we get on to what the company will be delivering through their repertory season, let’s talk about its 2017-18 company roster. It incorporates ten promotions, eight new company members, and six apprentices. Here’s the SFB’s announcement:
“Soloist Jennifer Stahl has been promoted to principal dancer, and Isabella DeVivo, Jahna Frantziskonis, Esteban Hernandez, and Steven Morse have been promoted to soloist. In addition, SF Ballet Apprentices Alexandre Cagnat, Shené Lazarus, Davide Occhipinti, Nathaniel Remez, and Isabella Walsh have been promoted to the corps de ballet. Ulrik Birkkjaer and Ana Sophia Scheller join the Company as principal dancers and Solomon Golding, Gabriela Gonzalez, Blake Johnston, Madison Keesler, Wona Park, and Joseph Warton have joined SF Ballet as corps de ballet members. Ethan Chudnow, Anatalia Hordov, Carmela Mayo, Swane Messaoudi, Larisa Nugent, and Benjamin Pearson of San Francisco Ballet School have been promoted to the rank of apprentice.”
A bit about the new principals. Copenhagen-born Ulrik Birkkjaer, is coming from The Royal Danish Ballet, where he’d been a principal dancer. Ana Sophia Scheller, born in Buenos Aires, Argentina, is coming from the New York City Ballet, where she’d been a principal dancer. While I haven’t had the chance yet to see Birkkjaer perform, I can happily confirm that Scheller is marvelous.
And now on to what the 2017–18 season looks like. Following a Jan 18th gala, it begins on Jan 23rd with The Sleeping Beauty, and is followed by five programs (more details HERE) and finally, “Unbound: A Festival of New Works,” for which a dozen international choreographers are creating inventive, daring works for the dancers. San Francisco Ballet says, “We’re celebrating the San Francisco spirit of curiosity, experimentation, and invention with Unbound—a festival of 12 world premieres spanning 4 programs over 17 days.”
In short, it’s going to be a very exciting year for the San Francisco Ballet. But don’t take my word for it – check out their website HERE.
PS: those other dancers from Wed 12/27 matinee performance that deserve mention? Here you go. Elizabeth Mateer in Arabian Dance, supported by Sean Orza and Henry Sidford. Act I Dancing Dolls Mingxuan Wang and Natasha Sheehan. Angela Watson as the adolescent Clara. Chinese dancer Steven Morse. French dancers Anatalia Hordov (kudos to her – she is an apprentice this year and fit right in), Blake Johnston, Isabella Walsh. Russian dancers Benjamin Fremantle, Sean Bennett, Alexander Reneff-Olson. The way they burst through those paper, life-sized Faberge eggs in perfect unison, the millisecond the music commences? Too much fun.