© Erik Tomasson, SFB Ballet.co Festival Reviews: Prog A, Prog B, Prog C Programs A&B SFB New Works Festival Photographs Gallery of 30 images of all the pieces in the festival SFB 'Fusion' reviews SFB 'Within the Golden Hour' reviews SFB 'Changes' reviews SFB 'Naked' reviews SFB 'A rose by any other name' reviews SFB 'The Ruins Proclaim The Building Was Beautiful' reviews SFB 'Joyride' reviews Tan in reviews recent SFB reviews more Bruce Marriott reviews Discuss this review (Open for at least 6 months)

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 grumpy 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 are fine folks in San Francisco and know how to treat a foreigner, but my the nights must be really long up North of the border..." 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. Usually said with great reverence...