"Cinderella"
San Francisco Ballet
War Memorial Opera House
San Francisco, CA
March 29, 2017
by Rita Felciano
copyright @ Rita Felciano
I am pretty sure of this. San Francisco Ballet's "Cinderella" is for adults -- to admire should they choose to do so. Don't take a child. Christopher Wheeldon's first narrative ballet for SFB takes not only the fairy out but just about everything else that a fairy tale entails. Young minds -- and some older ones -- have difficulty following his narration. They want something called narrative logic. Why do those mystic creatures appear at the tree in the cemetery? Why does Cinderella need dancing lessons from the Seasons when she did just fine with the beggar/prince? Why does the more evil of the sisters get away scot-free? I am not asking for punishment like the Grimm Brothers dished out, leaving them with bloody, mangled feet and having their eyes picked out by white doves of all creatures. (For one thing, that might make problems in terms of the staging.)
San Francisco Ballet in Wheeldon's "Cinderella" Photo by Erik Tomasson
My suspicion is that somewhere in this "Cinderella" bubbles an impulse towards "Aprés Nous le Déluge" where true love can only survive outside social norms. No wonder Guillaume -- it probably would have been to obvious to use his English name -- and Cinderella escape. We are left only with two young people in love. Still a rather fine idea to contemplate. A fairy tale on its own?
Wheeldon, of course, relied on the ambivalence of Prokofiev's score that looks back to "Romeo and Juliet" but also bears the burden of having been written during some of the most horrendous years of the second world war. There is a sardonic, bitter note running through this music, barely balanced by more exuberant sections. That eternal waltz theme comes back again and again, like a catastrophe about to drop on us. Wheeldon clearly wanted to pay tribute to both parts of the music but his responses did not arise from inspiration.
The production values with the magically growing tree, the dancing chandeliers and flying chairs are still impressive, spectacular in every sense of the word. But what you want is choreography that looks fresh and tells its story, and some of it is there. The Cinderella character could be more profiled but in this performance, Dores André filled it beautifully. She brought a buoyant quality to her dancing, with good elevation, nicely timed jetés, feathery arms and, above, a pliant expressive back. In the "beggar's" arms she gradually opened herself to what she clearly was beginning to feel. Throughout she allowed herself to be surprised -- in the way she responded to leaders of the Spirits and even in the ballroom scene. She never quite lost that touch of innocence that made her a believer in miracles.
In his first Prince, Carlo Di Lanno, a fine dancer with a velvety touch that hides strength, partnered André ardently, though it was difficult to see him as having evolved from a diffident and rather childish royal offspring. Angelo Greco, also in his first Benjamin, one day will make a good Mercutio. Katita Waldo gave loving details to the overwrought Madame Mansard
Wheeldon's choreographing the Seasons as a quick four-part sequence that accumulated into a rosette with Cinderella at its center looked really good. New to their roles also were Lauren Strongin as the Stepmother who managed to actually keep some of her dignity; Jahna Frantzikonis' Edwina and Julia Rowe's Clementina stole the show as truly comic characters. Comedy in ballet is so very rare. Wheeldon seems to have a knack for it. Maybe he should try it one of these years.