Meredith Nonnenberg informed me tickets would be tight for the series and would I be content with one ticket for the April 22 Program A of San Francisco Ballet’s final series 7. “Of course.” Duly, after the opening of two symposia, to be covered elsewhere, I sat down one in from the aisle to be joined by a jolly looking Brit who announced, “Hello, Renee, it’s Bruce.” I took a good look and my jaw must have dropped down to my sternum, as he repeated, “Bruce Marriott.”

Here I was, nearly a decade into association with ballet.co, meeting the boss for the first time,plus knowing that the graceful, trusty P.R. staff of San Francisco Ballet had kept the secret for three weeks; no sign of disclosure from The Boss who archly mentioned the series in an e-mail within twenty-four hours of the opening. So much for circumstances; it made for a slight blurring of impressions to encounter this cheery soul who governs our transcontinental exchanges.

The opening program included Yuri Possokhov’s Fusion; Christopher Wheeldon’s Within the Golden Hour, and Paul Taylor’s Changes.

Working backwards, Changes is not a Taylor top drawer work, when one remembers the company performances in Company B, Spring Rounds, and Sunset, to Edward Elgar music, all since Helgi Tomasson’s artistic tenure. Barring the pas de deux between Benjamin Stewart in union suit pjs and Aaron Orza in fur-lined hooded full coat, where Orza danced and Stewart imitated, the tone is not tender. In size and quality the pair clearly realized a father-son relationship, bonding personified.

In Changes, Taylor’s dry, laconic side was given full exhibition to the sounds of The Mamas and The Papas, sporting corps members dancing with the abandon staggering technique affords, wearing Santo Loquasto’s costumes, seeming pick-up discards from the side streets of San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury, lighting on the murky side though the dancers were clearly illuminated. Courtney Elizabeth danced full out in a frenzied solo, suggesting heavy drug influence. The work bore kinship to Twyla Tharp’s Deuce Coupe. Even the joint usage in Tharp’s work was lyric compared to the disshelved inhalations with indications of shooting interspersed, a frenzy, reckless, down-on-their luck young street flotsam, conceivably rebel offspring of affluent boomers. A world apart from me and most of the audience by choice, it is a Taylor essay of a world to be found in today’s San Francisco.

In the program’s middle Christopher Wheeldon’s Within the Golden Hour provided elegant expositions for six principal dancers, and a magical central circle mid-way through, glowing through skillful lighting. Evio Bossio’s music, with melodic and haunting qualities, seemed overlong. Katita Waldo and Damian Smith led the successive trio of principals, followed by Sarah Van Patten and Pierre-Francois Vilanoba, and finally Maria Kochetkova and Joan Boada. My impression registered many lifts for the women, the straight leg, pointe perfect,stretched horizontally, at an angle, in supported grand jete. Wheeldon has lovely sensibilities requiring a second viewing. One interesting note was that Martin Pakledinaz’ costumes looked more like would-be houris than the prior visual impact of Woodall’s designs.

Possokhov’s Fusion was another matter. He is a more instantly readable choreographer, more willing to experiment with themes less classical; the supporting music, with its strong percussive reference to North Indian tabla rhythms, provided a perfect aural backdrop for the quasi Sufi-like figures seen as the curtain rose before Benjamin Pierce’s series of slightly angled, ombre cloth squares changing colors as the dance progressed.

These seated male figures extended their torsos side to side, their arms at shoulder height in what might be considered fakir positions; east of Suez certainly, somewhere between Delhi and Isfahan. I grinned to myself, semi-convinced that soon Lorena Feijoo would emerge with short veil, headband and enormous pearl dividing her forehead. Designer Sandra Woodall would have none of that, instead clothing the women in form-fitting unitards ending in pants, softened by successive tones of one color torso to trouser hem: great solution, generic in suggestion, modern in realization. As the tunic and capped figures disappeared into the wings, from the rear, Feijoo emerged, dancing a short variation, before being followed successively by Kristin Long, Vanessa Zahorian, Yuan Yuan Tan; their partners Joan Boada, Gennadi Nedvigin, Jaime Garcia Castilla, Damian Smith soon followed. When the women arrived, they soon swivelled their hips, undulating their torsos all en pointe, effectively enforcing what a friend said to me “The Russians love exotisme,” a fascination reinforced in Russian ballet librettos.

Throughout the provocative sound of Graham Fitkin and Rahul Dev Burman’s music, the mid-East figures, the women and their partners interwove, sometimes both groups of men taking something from each other, sometimes the women with the mid-East figures; the Sufi-like figures imitated women’s movement while the women took up the straight angles of the Sufi gestures. There was a particularly effective pas de deux between Tan and Smith, testimony to the advantage of having partnered a dancer and knowing her abilities.

Possokhov has a remarkable talent to make a slight theme interesting, even absorbing,particularly for me who is dotty for almost anything east of the Indus. While the level of his fascination did not reach his Magrittomania achievement, Fusion made an enjoyable, intelligent essay in cross cultural influences and surely imagination.

Orza, Stewart, Elizabeth, Waldo, Smith, Van Patten, Vilanoba, Kochetkova, Boada, Feijoo, Long, Nedvigin, Zahorian, Castilla, Smith

Edit: changed threat title so this thread can cover all of the New Works Festival programmes together. Also amened title of Wheeldon's work from Within the Golden Hall to Hour. BM

It was great to see you Renee - you looked very suprised I have to say! More from me later.

The sheer audacity of Helgi Tomasson and San Francisco Ballet (SFB) in putting on 10 new ballets over 3 nights is breathtaking. These are not workshop pieces either but full-on works by some major BSD choreographers (*) and with the odd commissioned score floating around too. To put this into some kind of context, two or three years ago I remember going to a ballet company's press conference about the upcoming season and over the entire season they were going to premiere 3 brand new single act works. They were pleased and somewhat amazed to be able to do this because it had not been easy to arrange at all, but the Gods had been kind and after much head scratching and pushing around of many diaries, much good will from all, they had made the 'impossible' happen. The assembled throng of hacks looked not so deeply impressed and I remember thinking at the time how sad, blinkered and incapable of big thinking it all seemed. Well that's what SFB do and have been doing for a long time now and the result is a wonderfully fresh repertoire and a crack team of the fittest and most versatile dancers you are likely to find anywhere in the world. In America where once people just talked about NYCB and ABT as great companies, at the very top table internationally, now you have to include SFB and in many respects their dedication to the new marks them out above most world-class companies - I guess Paris is the other company constantly trying new things.

The idea of new work is too appealing to most of us camp-followers but the delivery, we all know, can be sadly disappointing. So would my 11,000-mile trip be rewarded with nights of endless klunkers? No, though it was not all nirvana, either, but 'hey' this is new work and experiencing it is rarer than hens' teeth these days. In the end I saw 7 of the 10 pieces before sadly having to return.

Night One had the feeling of a gala with long and very glamorous frocks everywhere amidst the wall-to-wall gold splendour of the War Memorial Opera House. On the bill was a new Christopher Wheeldon (his 8th ballet in the company), a new Paul Taylor and a new Yuri Possokhov - an ex-SFB dancer and now Resident Choreographer. (I know I keep saying 'new' a lot - it's not something one gets to say so often really, so I'll enjoy it.)

Yuri Possokhov got the festival off to a wonderful start with Fusion which is a clash between Whirling Dervishes and cool contemporary jazz. Possokhov is a born showman so while the piece was nominally inspired by his own difficult spiritual journey from dancer to choreographer you could just see it as whacky, quirky theatre where the dervishes keep cropping up at unlikely moments that make you smile and wonder what on earth next. The heart, though, is a pas de deux for Yuan Yuan Tan and Damian Smith and it was Possokhov that made the most breathtaking and spellbinding use of her in the first two nights. Tan is fast and precise in a way that makes you think again how you use the terms in dance - fast, fast, fast and precise, precise, precise might better describe how she can place her limbs and yet look so utterly polished, unhurried and lyrical. Forgive me, because I don't see Tan very often and I'm entitled to rave. Possokhov is assisted greatly by some good lighting (designed by James F Ingles who did the lighting for all festival pieces) - strong and dramatic and some cool design in the form of 13 high level sails or flags that beautifully change colour as the work proceeds.

Although Possokhov delivered an intriguing work it's not one brimming with magnificent choreography perhaps - more brimming with ideas, knowing how to make dancers look good and, importantly in an opener, how to please an audience.

Christopher Wheeldon's Within the Golden Hour featured the most breathtaking moment of my time in SF when a rotating circle of 7 couples hooked up, weaved, bobbed, leaned and unhooked themselves for all of 10 seconds and I just sighed at the beauty of it. Of all the ballet choreographers on show he has the most distinctive style - a kind of organic, new-age, neo-classical which sees otherwise sharp and austere edges rounded off and often overtly carrying his own rhythms over the top of already interesting musical material. But Wheeldon is very busy and while the 14 dancers looked wonderful together the three pas de deux, also presented, looked less imaginative than I'd hoped, if Katita Waldo and Damian Smith get some diverting social dance. Wheeldon's music is Latin minimalist (Ezio Bosso) and an easier ride than most (while still being a challenge) but interestingly he only decided to use it after a false start in the studio with some romantic songs by Henri Duparc. In his Bolshoi 'Hamlet' piece (now called Elsinore and before that Misericordes) Wheeldon was not clear in his own mind if he was making a story ballet, or not, and the indecision seemed to show when it hit London last summer. He's doing all this work at the same time as trying to set up his own company and you can't help but think he might be better doing less work and thinking more about it. That said, Wheeldon is very deep and I've certainly found myself favourably revising my impressions of his work after seeing it a few times.

Closing out the night was Paul Taylor with probably the best idea for a gift to San Francisco and its company on its 75 Anniversary. Changes is based on Mamas and Papas songs, full of wonderful hippy Flower Power designs (Santo Loquesto) and, rather nicely, is not a vehicle for principals but for the company corps and rising stars.

Changes is wonderful nostalgia but also a reminder that some of the radical thoughts of the era in terms of self-expression, ecology and conservation are now 100% mainstream. The free thoughts of today can win through. While the Taylor piece looked terrific and was given cracking impetus by the young dancers it was neither knock-out twee nostalgia nor deep into wider social comment. One sensed it sought to do both but on first telling it perhaps connected half the time. I think though that it might yet prove one of the enduring pieces to come out of the festival as its imagery and messages (simple and otherwise) become clearer and more appreciated. But it made me tap my toes and think of the Loon pants I used to wear with their 22 inch bell bottoms.

Reading this back it comes over as more negative than I perceived on the night, when it was wonderful to drink in the cordiale of interesting ballet doings by a great company in a warm and appreciative atmosphere. Oh, if only the second night could have illicited quite the same happy feelings.

Night 2 opened with Stanton Welsh's Naked to Poulenc's Concerto for Two Pianos, an amazing piece of 20's modernist excitement that is "jail bait" to any choreographer, according to Christopher Hampson whose take on it for English National Ballet won him two awards and many great notices. Welsh was a dancer with Australian Ballet, became resident choreographer and is now director of Houston Ballet. His piece, based on his RAD and Cecchetti training, was clear, simple and, er.. rather colourless apart from the dusty pink costumes of Holly Hynes and the handsome minimalism of Tom Boyd's back-cloths. The audience liked the uncluttered procession of stellar dancers - the boys looking particularly powerful, applauded whenever they could, but it looked pretty saccharine in this festival company.

Julia Adams, like Possokhov an ex-company dancer, gave us A rose by any other name and it was anything but saccharine. A mini-dance-drama-epic based on Sleeping Beauty and built on Bach, this was by far the most quirky piece in the first 2 days, full of wit and all stop-go drunken robotic movement with warped legs and a Matz Ek/Maguy Marin/Paul Lightfoot feel. I just loved the 5 male fairies and the general unclassical, un19th century feeling of real people with all their foibles, like the narcissistic fairy with mirror constantly in hand. Not sure about having the Prince and Lilac Fairy danced by one character and there was a lot I failed to pick up on I'm sure. Happier though were the dramatically intriguing costumes of Christine Darch, some of which got removed early on and it was Adams's bonkers piece that actually showed off the physiques of the SFB dancers more than anybody and made me think of Einstein's words - "Dancers are the Athletes of God". Adams has balls to strike out as she does and is ploughing a very different furrow in responding to commissions like this - goodness only knows where it goes.

The all-out klunker of the night was James Kudelka's The Ruins Proclaim The Building Was Beautiful. Like Adams the ex Director of Canadian National Ballet is trying new things and although he has a much bigger reputation his quest to push himself with greater challenges leads one to wonder why. For most of the piece ten trailer-trash Barbies are used in a painterly way as a kind of shimmering set, eddying this way and that in a dismal and unhappy commentary on death and social decay. Lighting is chic gloom. While it's evident that all is not well it wasn't really clear to me what point or points were being made and one was just left with a listless feeling of wasted good dancers. Its culmination was to make Yuan Yuan Tan, dressed as a faded cabaret singer involved in a grump duet, look incredibly ordinary, to no good effect at all. To a commissioned score based on Cesar Franck pieces, this was an experiment that didn't work and it got "We'd better clap, but what on earth was that all about..." applause.

The evening went out with a much more successful modernist bang - Mark Morris. His Joyride, with a specially commissioned John Adams score (and Adams was in the pit too) and Isaac Mizrahi's shiny gold body suits with LCD's on the front projecting a random digit, had the fantastic look of 21st century work by a sophisticated dance-maker. There were pointe shoes but with its concentration on wafting legs and kung fu kicks this piece, Morris's 7th for the company, used all the athleticism of the dancers to grand sweeping effect, particularly in the second part which had the most drive and where Adams had some Fearful Symmetries passion in his score. A wonderful acquisition and a palate-cleanser of a piece that would fit well in many triple bills.

All up a night of contrasts and abilities from Welsh's classroom-standard steps to Adam's surreal world, to Kudelka's introverted gloom and ending in Morris producing clean, exciting dance for the next 75 years and sending you out happy - a keeper for sure.

I wish I could have stayed for the final night and three more works but alas it was just not possible. As it stands I can't recall ever seeing so much new quality work in 48 hours and all power to the company and Helgi Tomasson. It would be lovely to see all companies do a festival like this every few years and remind themselves, and all out front, that ballet is not about the old and it's just so bloody exciting to see choreographers pushing the art in their various diverse ways. More - everywhere.


(*) BSD - 'Big Swinging Dick' - city term of praise for a major trader, well known or at the top of their game.

Bruce - I am in agreement over Yuan Yuan Tan: superlatize over her as much as you like. Do you know whether a 2009 tour to the UK is planned?

Me too wrt Yuan Yaun Tan (hugely impressed when SFB visited Sadlers Wells a few years back) - and I hope so! Will save me having to travel to San Francisco....

Thanks for all the input on the festival. It really sounds amazing. I am close by but will be able to see them a lot more in the fall as they are traveling to Orange County California. I saw from the press release that many of the works will be repeated in the 08/09 season. Cant wait to see some of the work and am thrilled that the response from the audiences has been positive and salute Helgi Tommasson for presenting such a bold program in a difficult climate for the arts.

This aside, SF Ballet along with the SF Symphony have extremely healthy
endowments. Perhaps the Opera shares honors also. I get in my mind
that SF Ballet's is now 160-180 million; part of it may well be ear- marked for touring. Whether that portion is sufficient to support a forthcoming tour of the UK or Europe, I don't know. Tours never make money, I'm told, but are aimed for exposure and stimulus for dancers and new audiences. All we've received so far is news for the 2009 spring season and the Nutcracker dates.

Two of Program C’s premieres will make it to San Francisco Ballet’s 2009 season: Val Caniparoli’s Ibsen’s House and Jorma Elo’s Double Evil. Local modern choreographer Margaret Jenkins’ Thread opening the program perhaps will be featured in 20010.

Thread refers to Ariadne, the legendary Cretan Princess rescuing Theseus from the Minotaur and fleeing with him only to be abandoned at Naxos, there to be rescued by Dionysus. Poet Michael Palmer, long- time Jenkins’ collaborator, augmented Thread; like Jenkins he used the legend differently, departing from the traditional narrative. Paul Dresher’s score further veered from balletic practice, composed to underscore movement viewed from rehearsal tape, if underscoring the patterns with a raw, savage aural power.

Alexander Nichols’ handsome scenic and projection design accented the thread theme with a back scrim of an angled, oblong continuous line, behind another scrim suggesting a path before the stylized labyrinth symbol, but behind the athletic center where Minoan youth stretched, jumped and partnered.

Beaver Bauer’s costume designs evoked Minoan culture with strips of brown pointed deep in the pelvis, circling over the sides of the hips with head bands suggesting snake goddess statues. Jenkins’ use of such artefacts accented movement with arms held close to the sides to the waist, lower arms held outward like ancient Minoan stances. Thread was arguably the most handsome visual addition to the company’s productions.

What Jenkins provided the thirteen dancers was the challenge to employ classical training at a obvious, sustained level. While there were few technical surprises, the pace and placement of technique was satisfying, classical myth devoid of pretty little pointe work, supported attitudes, arabesques or pirouettes. Lifts and balances occurred, but lacked usual balletic geometry.

Pauli Magierek danced Ariadne to Damian Smith’s Theseus; much of Magierek’s assignment occurring in profile in the passage behind the scrim, her torso in exaggerated thrust, evoking those Minoan images. Smith’s early passages were executed down stage right before engaging in passing partners or Ariadne emerging for the attraction/repulsion gave the work its climax.

While Thread may be out of the current repertoire, but some of the company’s most interesting dancers participated: Garrett Anderson; Brett Bauer; Nicolas Blanc; Frances Chung; Molly Smollen; James Sofranko, Smollen, in a crouch, bore the weight of a male dancer’s body.

Ibsen’s House vied for visually stunning decor and costumes, furnished by Sandra Woodall for Val Caniparoli’s review of late 19th century Scandinavian heroines set to an Antonin Dvorak quintet executed by pianist Roy Bogas, violinists Roy Malan and Craig Reiss, with Paul Ehrlich and David Kadarauch as Violist and Cellist. If there was any complaint regarding the production, it was the near unrelieved gloom of James F. Ingalls' lighting. A long-time dance connoisseur sitting in the Grand Tier just above the boxes complained Ibsen’s House was like looking into a black box; nothing could be discerned about costumes with little in side lighting to distinguish dancers or their stage trajectories. Even sitting on orchestra aisle seats mid-way to the rear was a task in identifying players, let alone garment details.

The ebb and flow of Dvorak and the periodic peaks of the strings certainly supplied a febrile quality, with a heroine frequently emerging or disappearing behind a backstage scrim and a handsome window upper stage right, another transparent curtain and huge black curtain masking nearly two-thirds of back stage center to back stage left. The male characters usually entered the patterns from the wings whether to engage a heroine or in ensemble as did the heroines in their solos. Caniparoli’s concept lent both formality and deliberation to the portraits, which, though evocative, didn’t seem to develop fully, perhaps due to visual obscurity.

As Hedda Gabler, Lorena Feijoo opened and closed the ballet en pointe, arms almost like a wili, body slightly ecarte. Partnered at the premiere by David Arce, Aaron Orza with his craggy profile at the second viewing proved more convincing than rangy height plus a better temperamental match. Molly Smollen and Tiit Helimets as Nora and Torvald Helmer seemed to supply the most understandable plot, Smollen with furtive glances and gestures of her hands on her forest green garment bordered with black braid, Helimets a perfectly chill norther European. Dana Genshaft and Garen Scribner essayed the principal roles from Ghosts, distinguishing themself with her frantic gestures when standing behind him, he with furious rebellion. Courtney Elizabeth as Ellida Wangel and Pierre-Francois Vilanoba as the Stranger in Lady of the Sea seemed principally to swirl in arabesques evoking the water-dominated tale. Nicole Grand and Anthony Spaulding danced Rebecca West and John Rosmer, the latter in his usually wonderful correctness and understanding of mood. It should also be noted that Vilanoba excelled throughout the season for his necessarily moody characters, frequently in period costume.

Ibsen’s House with its wonderful production and fine dancers still needs to differentiate not only its characters but the light with which the audience witnesses the sketches of their conflicts.

Jorma Elo, Boston Ballet’s choreographer in residence, chose an opposite pairing by employing composers Phillip Glass and Vladimir Martinov for Double Evil’s music. Holly Hynes’ costumes were handsome and stylish, though a question lurks why tutus were chosen. Perhaps it was because Elo made such a sly, almost unnoticeable comment on two extremes of human behavior; near puppet like and so flexible as to court distortion, my take on the title Double Evil.

However, the likes of Elana Altman, Pauli Magierek, Sarah Van Patten, Vanessa Zahorian, Jaime Garcia Castilla, Rory Hohenstein, Pascal Molat and Pierre-Francois Vilanoba served Elo’s demands with accustomed skill. That they succeeded so brilliantly in the choreographer’s estimation was endearingly demonstrated during the ballet’s first curtain call. Taking the customary bow, Elo turned impulsively to the dancers and went down on one knee.

Magierek, Smith, Feijoo, Arce, Orza, Smollen, Helimets Genshaft, Scribner, Elizabeth, Vilanoba, Grand, Spaulding, Altman, Van Patten, Zahorian, Castilla, Hohenstein, Molat

Welch, an incredibly facile choreographer, excels in beautiful, easy phrasing, glorying in the technical whiz-bang abilities of Kristin Long with Pascal Molat as attentive partner; Welch has used Long at least twice in the creation of bravura exercises. Molat’s pizazz was not well used, nor did his pairing with Long bring out the best of both. Yuan Yuan Tan and Ruben Martin also did not seem in sync as the second couple. At the May 2 performance Katita Waldo, Tiit Helimets, Vanessa Zahorian and Garrett Anderson assumed the assignments. Waldo entered majestically, dancing with great serenity, Helimets matching her mood. Zahorian with her greater length gave the bravura more lyricism; Anderson’s grands jetes, lower than Molat’s ebullient ballon, displayed an unaffected, forward thrust wonderful and different.

The principals were admirably supported by Frances Chung, Nicole Grand, Elizabeth Miner, Brett Bauer, Hansuke Yamamoto and Nicolas Blanc April 23, but their skill was little showcased any more than the May 2 replacements Clara Blanco, Diego Cruz, Anthony Spaulding.

Morris’ work enjoyed Izrai Mizrahi’s tunics with changing number plaques, a style that looked like metallic versions of winter woollen trunks, their glinting qualities in more or less constant change. The loud, emphatic nature of John Adams’ commissioned music harmonized with the costumes; after two viewings I felt it amounted to strong cacophony.

Julia Adam chose J.S. Bach’s Goldberg Variations to frame a white-garmented synopsis of La Belle Au Bois Dormant; the woods were shaped by the white gloved hands of four men doubling as fairies and suitors, gloves sprouting antler-like representations of wood, small dead branches painted white, the imaginative creations of Christin Darch. The fairy of generosity, adroitly sketched by Daniel Devision, tossed paper money; after exiting, he returned for a tip for his supernatural bestowal; Brett Bauer as the Fairy of Beauty danced glued to his mirror. The Lilac Fairy/Prince, Gennadi Nedvigin opposite Kristin Long, Tiit Helimets opposite Tina LeBlanc, gave Evil Witch Elizabeth Miner a portend of what is planned for La Belle, sending Miner arms upraised like La Liberte at Parisian street barricades into further fury.

Posture and movement proceeded like antique Greek and Egyptian bas relief, feet 45 degrees to lower leg, similarly arms raised to frame the face, torso twisted and tilting from the waist, arms frequently like a Coppelia remake even in pirouettes.

Kristin Long’s remarkable bravura made her stick figure Aurora an object of crispness while Tina LeBlanc provided the one-dimensional interpretation with something verging on delicate whimsy. Difficult choosing between classicists Nedvigin and Helimets as Lilac Fairy/Prince.

James Kudelka’s The Ruins Proclaim The Building Was Beautiful somehow reminded evoked a Muslim Zenana; the curtain rose to dim lighting, ten corps de ballet women in stationery bourrees down stage right, pinkish longer classical tutus dripping tatters or feathers like moulting flamingoes, heads inclined like captive birds. With three sets of partners to the strains of adapted Caesar Franck, the ensemble moved up stage left, forming various lines or clusters, as soloists seemed to float disconsolately through the corps. The men, Aaron Orza, Martyn Garside and Pierre-Francois Vilanoba, moodily dressed in elegant grey coats which seem inspired by a Tolstoy novel, move through the ensemble, partnering the trio, 19th century young roues taking pleasure according to varying taste. Albert Vanderlinden and James Sofranko appeared with equal effect in the supporting macho roles May 2, dancing opposite Elana Altman and Frances Chung April 23, May 2 Charlene Cohen and Miriam Rowan. The mood conveyed fin de siecle, courtesan life turned tawdry, mold on invisible walls, female dependency minus mastery of workaday skills outside the boudoir.

The extended finishing pas de deux with Yuan Yuan Tan and Pierre- Francois Vilanoba underscored the precarious courtesan life, magnified with clear 'Twenties touches, female awareness not yet up to working class undertakings, a teetering tug between the centuries-old female position and windy fingers of modernity. Tan and Vilanoba executed such demands brilliantly at both performances.

Mark Morris’ Joyride enjoyed the distinction of having composer John Adams conduct the premiere. Isaac Mizrahi's metallic body suits ranged from copper to gold in the light with their changing number badges on the chest. Neither cast of dancers could be faulted, but the impression was not top drawer Morris. Elizabeth Miner was the only repeat in both casts.

Long, Molat, Tan, Martin, Waldo, Helimets, Nedvigin, Le Blanc, Miner, Devision, Bauer, Zahorian, Anderson, Orza, Garside, Vilanoba, Vanderlinden, Sofranko, Altman, Chung, Cohen, Rowan