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San Francisco Ballet1st February 2005 San Francisco, War Memorial Opera House by Renee Renouf |
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Helgi Tomasson does well by the men in San Francisco Ballet; 7 for Eight is another telling example. From the romantic nobility of Yuri Possokhov to a marvelous matching essay of Garcia and Blanc and the dizzy virtuosity of Boada, the men are object lessons for the shape and curve possible in port de corps and port de bras. Tomasson exclaimed that he couldn’t possibly have done 7 for 8 twenty years ago; twenty years ago he didn’t have such elegantly schooled bodies to work with, quite frankly. Two decades later he has chosen each dancer in the company not inherited them, although he had some wonderful dancers to help launch his San Francisco hegemony. 7 for 8 provided a different glimpse of Tan; her phrasing exhibited a new depth looking as if she has absorbed some of Maffre’s remarkable ability for intelligence in execution. LeBlanc and Garcia continued their same magical partnership while Viselli and Miner were handsomely displayed by Boada. 7 for Eight is celebrates the best in classical technique, the best the dancers offer. “..smile with my heart” was made during the Richard Rogers centennial by Lar Lubovitch, commissioned by American Ballet Theater, a far more engaging piece than Othello by a long shot. Sprinkled with phrases from well-known melodies from retirees’ youth, it provided an exuberant essay for Chung and Garcia, the latter changing emphasis in chameleon fashion, Chung bounding like a rubber ball. For Waldo and Smith the tone was bittersweet; he must have been really mean because she leaves him. LeBlanc and Legate reprised their wonderful impression from the Gala, clearly the best part of the ballet, a wonderful statement about emotional maturity. The dancers initially were dressed all in beige but for their individual numbers, the women’s colors changed. Theme and Variations goes back to my college exposure to ballet, Alonso and Youskevitch in dark blue velvet costumes, designed by Eugene Berman, on the stage of the Biltmore Theater in Los Angeles, Alonso stabbing the floor with her knee-high passes; Youskevitch smiling slightly as he executed double ronde de jambes en l’air, the plume in his velvet beret responding slightly, the ultimate cavalier. This performance the emphasis was less on the style those creators gave to their variations than the overall shape of the ballet. Yet with Feijoo an Alonso product I half expected some of that emphasis. But where Alonso delineated, Feijoo reached for a softer shape, a classical line more liquid, more sensuously rounded. Solomakha, also, provided a Russian correctness, necessarily based on several extra inches. Both projected polish and assurance.
With my memory of that Ballet Theater performance long ago I can affirm the light years of technical accomplishment reflected in both corps and soloists in this production. George Balanchine was creating a showcase for Alonso and Youskevitch and for a company whose suit was theatrical dance, with some classics thrown in for good measure at the time featuring Markova or Alonso. A friend said, “He creates easy patterns for the corps, complicates it a bit for the soloists and leaves the real work to Alonso and Youskevitch.” I think it’s an accurate statement. There is this rush of wonderful music that pushes, urges and swells; the dancers respond, yet, save for the principals, the invention for this musical surge eludes those eager young technicians. Still, it was a wonderful finale for the season’s opening program.
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