Review: PROGRAM 2 at San Francisco Ballet Surprises and Delights

Ballet may be a centuries-old artform, but we should never ever underestimate its ability to surprise, and maybe even show us a thing or two about how we live today. A case in point is San Francisco Ballet's Program 2, which is comprised of three very different ballets that all unfold in ways that are delightfully unexpected. The program opener is Helgi Tomasson's Caprice, choreographed in 2014 to Camille Saint-Saëns' Symphony No. 2. In this, his final season as SFB's Artistic Director after an astonishingly successful 37-year tenure at the helm, Tomasson has chosen to revisit some favorite works from seasons past. This is a wise move, as we are unlikely to see many of them again for quite some time, given that his successor Tamara Rojo will quite rightly want to chart her own course as Artistic Director.

Caprice gets the evening off to a lovely start with its gorgeous music, sensitive choreography and terrific dancing. What surprises here is not the specific movement (Tomasson has never been the most experimental of choreographers), but Tomasson's response to the music and the way its five movements unfold. While Saint-Saën's music offers ample opportunity for bombast and pathos, Tomasson has ditched the drama and made a ballet that is purely about the joys of dancing. Instead of fire and angst, we get verve and tenderness, proving that sometimes it is enough just to celebrate the pleasures of ballet. The five movements also proceed in unorthodox fashion with two adagios, including one where its lead couple is repeatedly joined by the couple who danced the ballet's opening allegro.

The opening night cast danced beautifully throughout. In the fast movements, Angelo Greco and Misa Kuranaga provided all the sparkle and precision one could hope for. Kuranaga excels at so many things - jumps, spins, balances - that I still wonder who she really is as a dancer (and perhaps she is still working that out for herself?). Interestingly, she seemed most alive in a brief section where she was backed by the perfectly in-synch trio of Steven Morse, Henry Sidford and Hansuke Yamamoto, three of SFB's most self-effacing men. It was sort of like the balletic equivalent to a Broadway musical number where the dazzling leading lady is flanked by a bevy of chorus boys. Yuan Yuan Tan and Luke Ingham danced gorgeously together in the two adagios, moving as one, seemingly weightless and without effort. At this stage in Tan's long career, it's hard to come up with a new superlative for her unique ethereality, so I'll just say it feels like a privilege every time we get to see her dance.

Program 2's middle ballet is one of Jerome Robbins' best, In the Night, choreographed in 1970 to several Chopin nocturnes. It is a personal favorite of mine, and yet no matter how many dozens of times I've seen it, it always catches me off guard. It begins in understated fashion with a couple in evening dress dancing under a starlit sky to a lovely tune played by a solo pianist. It's pretty, yes, but the opening always feels a little underwhelming, or under-sized, for the vast Opera House stage. And yet, after a second, more mature couple gone through their stately paces and ceded the stage to a tempestuous third couple working out their own private drama, I have inevitably gotten sucked into their collective magical world, where it is always nighttime and love abounds in all its varieties and imperfections. When the six dancers finally appear onstage together, suddenly notice each other, bow gracefully, mingle briefly and separate once again, it is heart-rending. What is it about this simple gesture that is so profoundly moving?

In the program notes by Cheryl A. Ossola (a terrific dance writer), she posits that In the Night's emotional pull is not due to its communal spirit. Well, I would beg to differ. For me, community is exactly what it is about. What makes In the Night so much more than just an attractive suite of dances is its acknowledgement of community. These couples do not exist in a vacuum, and their simple, wordless gestures to each other say "I see you. I recognize our commonality. You are not alone." And this is what brings tears to my eyes. Every damn time.

On opening night, Benjamin Freemantle and Mathilde Froustey made a charmingly amorous couple who appear to be in the first blush of romance. Tiit Helimets and Jennifer Stahl gave a portrait of a more settled, mature couple who have come to know each other very well. And Sarah Van Patten and Ulrik Birkkjaer were terrific as the tempestuous third couple, working out their shit right in front of our eyes. Their entrance seemed to start in mid-argument with Van Patten giving Birkkjaer a devastating look that could have turned anyone to stone. And yet, they were also believable as the couple wrestled with their individual demons and broke apart repeatedly before coming together in a gesture of forgiveness. As always with these two dancers, they let the movement speak for itself and refrained from overplaying the drama, thus making it all the more effective.

Program 2 concludes with the company premiere of Blake Works I, which iconoclast choreographer William Forsythe made on the Paris Opera Ballet in 2016. It is incredibly apt that Tomasson's final season include a new work by Forsythe, as it was his bracingly modern New Sleep with which Tomasson first put his stamp on SFB way back in 1987. It is hard to overstate that ballet's impact on audiences at the time, but its radical movement and edgy, electronic soundscape were a clear signal of Tomasson's commitment to pushing ballet's boundaries and moving it forward as an artform.

Blake Works I is less ground-breaking, but to be honest, also more enjoyable, even as it upends expectations for those who are so familiar with the company. Set to the contemporary R&B-ish music of James Blake, it is both easy and challenging, focused and meandering, large-scale and intimate. Even though it contains a surfeit of high-energy movement, the ballet ends on a surprisingly tender note that acts as a sort of benediction for the evening.

Most of all, though, the piece shows off aspects of the dancers' remarkable talents that we rarely get to see. Forsythe is definitely still working in a classical idiom - the women are all on pointe and the dancers perform all the textbook ballet moves - but the contemporary music encourages an ease and spontaneity that allow the dancers to be looser, more improvisatory than usual. Their center of gravity is often lower and their bodies ripple and undulate in ways more akin to social dancing. As much as I love classical ballet, sometimes it's a thrill just to see the company let their hair down.

The standout in the cast of 21 terrifically committed dancers was the beguiling and incandescent Henry Sidford. A stalwart soloist known for his understated presence and versatility, when given the opportunity to let loose here, he just totally goes for it, showing off a remarkable fluidity and sensuality that I've never seen from him before. Please, somebody, choreograph an entire ballet around this man!

But then again, everyone onstage is pretty darned great. Virtually every single dancer is given their own moment to shine as they shimmy and twirl, roll their shoulders and jeté across the stage, all in one unbroken line. It feels like this must be exactly how they naturally move when they're just dancing for themselves in the privacy of their own bedrooms. And just as the energy has reached its peak, the ballet comes down to a tender duet for Max Cauthorn and Sasha De Sola that is astonishing in its simplicity and intimacy. This pair has been dancing so beautifully together lately that I can only hope they'll be teamed up again for one of the full-length story ballets presented later in the season.

But in the meantime, we have Blake Works I to enjoy. Is it a masterpiece? Who knows? It's not perfect - certain sections feel a tad over-extended and diffuse - but only time will tell on that score. For now, though, I can report that is a total blast to watch, and I already cannot wait to see it again.

Brief post-script: I have to mention something fascinating that occurred during Caprice. As the six corps women re-entered the stage during the final movement, one of them still had her face mask on before she deftly removed it and tossed it into the wings. I was momentarily taken aback, and then I realized - of course! - while we only see the dancers unmasked onstage, the minute they get offstage, their masks go right back on. The dancer who had unwittingly left her mask on was probably mortified, but I found her mistake reassuring in that it offered up tangible evidence of the strict COVID protocols the company is following to keep themselves and their audiences safe. And it was a charming reminder that anything can happen during a live performance.

[All photos by Erik Tomasson]

Live performances of San Francisco Ballet's Program 2 continue through Sunday, February 13th at the War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco, CA. Running time is approximately 2:15, including two intermissions. Proof of full COVID vaccination and the wearing of masks while in the building are required. For tickets and additional information, visit www.sfballet.org or call (415) 865-2000, M-F 10am-4pm.

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