"Swan Lake"
San Francisco Ballet
War Memorial Opera House
San Francisco, CA
January 26, 2010
by Rita Felciano
Copyright © Rita Felciano, 2010 A
second look at Helgi Tomasson’s 2009 post-something “Swan Lake”, the second
one he has choreographed for San Francisco Ballet, confirmed the soundness of
this collaboration with British designer Jonathan Fensom. Despite the fact that
Tomasson stayed close to the ballet’s choreographic structure, this is a
grittier affair than we are used to see. My suspicion is that, if Tomasson were
a more daring choreographer, conceptually this production could have been
pushed farther without violating Ivanov’s work.
As my show companion pointed out, the huge, darkly spotted that moon that hangs over the story is an old metaphor for madness. This “Swan Lake” seems to question the very possibility of redemption through love.
Sadly,
in this reprise, San Francisco Ballet “purified” Fensom’s Liza Minelli wigs for
the swans by eliminating most of black feathers that peaked out from the
otherwise skull-embracing whiteness. Given the barren, gloomy setting, this
small costuming detail had suggested that the charmed world of the swans had
been compromised by the evil around them. It had made Siegfried’s blindness just
a tad more plausible. Now these restructured headgears look as if recycled from
a Busby Berkeley movie.
Tomasson, apparently wanting to shift the ballet’s emphasis back to the Swan Queen, introduced—as some others have done— a prologue that shows how Von Rothbart (Damian Smith) changes another young girl (Maria Kochetkova) into a swan. Sven Ortel’s projection and
video design of the transformaton--she ultimately flies off, silhouetted against the moon—worked rather better than I had remembered from last year.
This “Swan Lake,” however, still belongs to Siegfried.
Davit Karapetyan’s beautifully stretched lines and immaculate finishes made for a grandly
melancholic prince. At the birthday party, he barely responds to his subjects—preferring
his book and a male friend (Vitor Luiz) despite his Tutor’s (a somewhat dottering Val Caniparoli—urging. He performs the required courtesies but really comes life when given the bow and arrow. Now he has an excuse to run away, and he does so with an eagerness that seemed both naïve and touching. But it’s this very impetuousness that ultimately made him a more convincing convincing wooer of Odile (Maria Kotchekova) than Odette.
To be true to Ivanov, these swans need to breathe more into their épaulement.
While the unison arabesques and hops looked spectacular, one wanted them to be
more billowing and less rigidly controlled. But, perhaps, in the context of
Fensom’s lifeless and stone cold setting, that kind of regimentation is defensible.
We should know by the end of the run what Tomasson’s intention is.
The third act’s parade of multi-cultural brides appears to have acquired a few more
courtiers though last year’s barren ballroom had made conceptual sense. In the
divertissements, Frances Chung and Nutnaree Pipit-Suksun brought both clarity
and a dollop of fun to the Russian princesses. Elizabeth Miner—also excellent
in the Pas de Trois—and James Sofranko’s Neapolitan only needed castanets for
her and a tambourine for him. Lily Rogers stood out as a fiery Spanish Princess
(with Bret Bauer and Anthony Spaulding) who kicked her way to the heavens, and
as one of the two Swan Maidens—with Jennifer Stahl--who danced both expansively
and delicately.
In the Pas de Trois, the handsome Luiz’ strong beats and easy elevation made one
see why Tomasson hired him.. Von Rothbart, in the hands of Smith, became a wild
bird creature with a Goth Star’s cadaverous quality about him. Smith danced it to
an inch of his life.
Photo by Erik Tomasson: Maria Kotchekova and Davit Karapetyan in Tomasson’s “Swan Lake."
