Mark Morris’ Deceptive Simplicity

As it has for perhaps two decades, Cal Performances presented the Mark Morris Dance Group in an annual appearance at UCB’s Zellerbach Hall April 19-20.  It was the occasion to wed a prior work to a world premiere and each work involved the death of highly influential men, one from the secular world of Greece and the other the prophet from which the Christian religion was inspired.  The Death of Socrates, originally premiered in 2010, preceded The Via Dolorosa’s premiere to the music of Mico Mubly’s The Street(14 Meditations on the Stations of the Cross). The premiere music was played on the harp by Parker Ramsey, whiile Erik Satie’s Socrate in three parts was interpreted by tenor Brian Grebler with Colin Fowler as pianist.  For both works super titles were available above the proscenium.

How to describe Morris’ danced narrative by his 17 member troupe [one is currently an apprentice]?  I find it difficult because it just follows a story line, minus any elaborate technical displays, but moves ahead according to the dictates of the music, the theme and Morris’ enviable capacity to wed the two with deceptively simple phrasing and movement with costumes that are diaphanous and, forgive the word, serviceable.  You would think the ensemble is off on a collective afternoon romp, but of course, it is not in either dance.

For Socrates, it opens with the news that he has been condemned to death, and the consternation is expressed with small rushes of movement by the dancers, in varying sized clusters.  The dancer playing Socrates is not identified in the program, but we see him in semi-profile accepting the judgment with remarkable calm consoling his followers.  The text has him ask the man in charge regarding the poison [I think it was hemlock] and he is instructed after drinking it, that he should walk around until his legs feel heavy at which time he should lie down.  When the poison reaches his heart he will die. This directive proceeds and after Socrates lies down the ensemble is around him at the curtain.

For Via Dolorsa, Howard Hodgkin has designed a swirl reaching across the breadth of the canvas with vibrant red and blue and ancillary colors in the center.  It does change color at various points as the harp places the fourteen stations of the Cross. Elizabeth Kurtzman’s costumes place the women in off-white to cream knee-length dresses, their quality reminding me of pleasant summer dresses, while the men’s costumes veer on cotton fatigues, although when it comes to Jesus bearing the cross, his garments approximate the minimal seen in crucifixes.

The music by Nico Mobly titled The Street (fourteen Meditations on the Stations of the Cross) was played by harpist Parker Ramsey.  The music has text but was not sung at the premiere.  A striking photograph in the program depicts the Via Dolora (bereft of its clutter of makeshift shops, sellers and shawl covered shoppers I remember from my one visit in 2007.) 

The first station is clearly one of accusation, and the dancers move across the stage resolutely, finger pointing with the man standing for the prophet with slightly winced posture.  For someone unfamiliar with the specifics of the station the progression is absorbing, movement appropriate, unfamiliar.  It is when the dancer bearing the cross appears that the historic and religious converge for someone never raised in this particular Roman Catholic Christian ritual. Bearing the cross, Jesus stumbles three times, One station includes an interval with his mother. He is stripped and nailed to the Cross [A Roman form of punishment, and not Judiac.] The final station, Jesus taken down from the cross, and then the curtain descended.

The audience was utterly quiet save for someone yelling, but after the initial silence, the applause was thunderous with many standing up in tribute. A white-haired Morris came on stage after the dancers had made their initial bow, this time in a grey jump suit, no Indian shawl this time.

His musical acuity to which he has choreographed those evocative steps even now leave me moved at the depth and acuity of his choreography.

Some Interesting Ballet Company History

When Dennis Nahat was ousted from his position as artistic director of Ballet San Jose, the Bay Area lost one of the most energetic, agreeable and willing contributors to its dance scene, never mind his acumen brought the company to the area and managed to make the company a San Jose entity when the Cleveland half of the original enterprise collapsed. He returns on occasion to stage manage performance events in the South Bay, but he now resides in Las Vegas and, typical of his energy and magnanimity, devotes much of his time to the Donald MacKayle Legacy.

Dennis was recently called upon to recount details of the company he co-founded with Ian Horvath in Cleveland. And he has shared his memory of the events with me.  Providing this information may cover two or three different postings.  Here goes.

A History of Major Events

Dennis Nahat and Ian [Ernie] Horvath visited Ruth Prior at her Masonic Temple studio in Cleveland in 1972.  Prior, a one-time Horvath teacher, founded the Ballet Russe Academy in 1950. Because Prior wished to retire, Nahat bought her enterprise amd he expressed to Prior his desire for its future.  Horvath and Nahat then established The Cleveland Dance Center and hired Charles Nicoll to lead the fledgling organization. Horvath’s mother, Helen, became executive manager.

Retiring from dancing with American Ballet Theatre in 1974, Horvath returned to Cleveland.  A new Cleveland Ballet was established and a Board was created with Maria Guillia as Chair. The period 1972-1976 provided training for dancers and the enlistment of community board members.  Nahat though still with ABT, was commuting weekly. And making sure bills were paid. Since its inception the aim of the mission was to provide Cleveland with a fully professional ballet company, performing and producing to equal standards, contributing to Cleveland’s cultural needs and to the broadest possible audience.

In 1976, Cynthia Gregory, American Ballet theatre’s principal artist, and often considered the U.S.’s first ballerina assoluta, danced with the company as Cleveland Ballet’s permanent guest artist.

With standards set high, in 1977, The Cleveland Dance Center became the Official School of Cleveland Ballet with a new orchestra formed under Dwight Oltman as its Musical Director and Conductor. The School and company moved to Cleveland’s Playhouse Square, constructing four studios for the company, school, administration and warehouse out of the Stouffer’s Foods Corp. Building.

In 1978, Nahat created The Gift, a two-act holiday spectacle was with new score by Loris Chabanian, a local composer, which proved an immediate success with capacity audiences.  In 1979, building on this success, Cleveland Ballet’s Nutcracker was created, creating national interest, performing in the Public Square Music Hall, with its 3000 seats totally sold out, Cynthia Gregory appearing as Tsarina/Tatiana. Its success required the company to add four additional performances in early 1980.

Following this success, Nahat queried the board whether it was ready for the effects of the company’s success. 

Major funding from The Cleveland Foundation enabled the preservation and renovation of the Playhouse Square.  While the State Theatre was to become Cleveland Ballet’s official home, the city wanted the ballet to occupy the Music Hall, particularly at Christmas, since it encouraged the citizens to come to downtown Cleveland.  The company was offered the Music Hall and adjacent buildings for $1 a year if it moved the school and operations to the area.

Then mayor of Cleveland George Voinovich said he wished Cleveland Ballet’s move into the city’s buildings would create what Nahat and Horvath called “a Theatrical Institutional Hub,” for the City’s benefit.

Touring the entire underground and all the buildings out to Lake Erie, the two men created a complete plan on paper regarding the use of the buildings.  Learning of the exploration, members of the Ballet Board, the Playhouse Square and the Cleveland Foundation made an ultimatum to Horvath and Nahat. “If you sign with the City, funding will cease from major foundations. The City is filled with crooks.”  Horvath and Nahat reluctantly withdrew from the Playhouse Square scheme.

With Nahat primarily focused on the studio, Horvath worked closely with planners on the rebuilding of Playhouse Square theaters.  The two directors were concerned could raise sufficient collateral or receive enough funding to grow into the new home.  Instead it was burdened with yearly expenses for renting the company’s offices, school facilities and theater while it became the Playhouse Square’s largest tenant with its performances each season.

Cleveland Ballet was firmly committed to providing arts education to children and adults through a professional school and free outreach programs. Expectations and demands were high to fill the State Theatre each season. To help sustain the artists and keep up with the demands the Company created its own dancers’ union, American Alliance of Northeast Ohio, Local One. Nahat and Horvath continued to seek endowment support for the 1984 move and opening into the State Theatre with its 3200 seat capacity. Cleveland Foundation leader Homer C. Wadsworth informed Nahat, “Listen here, the success of Playhouse Square does not depend on the success of Cleveland Ballet.” 

A Total Confection

The winter cold visitation prevented me from seeing the opening night of San Franicsco Ballet’s production of Midsummer’s Night’s Dream, but I made the March 21 and 22 performances featuring the differing charms of Nikisha Fogo and Sasha Mukhamedev, along with de la Croix designs apparently borrowed from the Paris Opera.

Some miscellaneous comments, the foremost of which was the wonderful tutus given the women with the graduated layers below the top tutu, so graceful and so unlike the skimpy finish created for so many American productions, which seem preoccupied with the cost of yardage in creating that staple to ballet wear on stage.

The originial Balanchine version dates back to 1982 when Melissa Hayden was Tatiana, Edward Villella Oberon and Arthur Mitchell as Puck.  That meant that NYC Ballet was still at the 55th Street Theater.

It seems to me some measure of those physical restraints remain in the current production, mainly a sense of breadth but shallowness in depth.

Balanchine’s sense of the comic seems extremely broad when I think of Ashton’s version of the Shakespeare comedy. Tab Buckner and I, recalled Alexander Grant’s skill as Bottom and Bottom’s gesture remembering the physical charms of Tatiana.  In addiiton to Keith Martin as Puck, the special physical suppleness of Anthony Dowell and Antoinette Sibley as the fairy monarchs has yet to be replicated or surpassed; Fogo’s physique comes a remarkable second, making me want to see her in Ashton’s version.  As I remember Ashton’s reading, there is a consistancy where Mr. B’s verges on froth.

When it comes to the mortal quartet of lovers, the action is pretty standard theatrical mime of who loves, who wants and isn’t getting it, until the magic potion gets properly distributed.  I remember in the British version there was a touch of the slightly stiffish, “I say old chap” quality in the behavior, both antagonistic and reconciliatory.

What is surprising in the Balanchine version is the substitute cavalier when Tatiana appears in front of her pink shell bed.  It shows her off, but makes of her cavalier a bit of a cipher, however skilled his partnering.

I thought Mukhamadev’s Tatiana very queenly in her response to Wei Wang’s Oberon’s request for the young child.  Wang was both striking in the Oberon solo and knowing in his handling of Tatiana, Bottom and ultimate magnanimity, royals in encounter and behavior.  While Fogo was both fey and queenly, Conley was not quite up to regal status. 

It also seems the production allowed Balanchine to use as many dancers, whether regular members or apprentices, as possible, and a means to generate NY audience enthusiasm.  Certainly it provided that chance for  Rojo to manifest San Francisco’s dance force.  Katy Warner remarked on the warmth and said, “It’s all healthy.” 

Skipping onward to Act II, a totally Balanchine concoction, a vehicle for utilizing the full company, Frances Chung and Isaac Hernandez were the  couple interpreting the roles created by Violette Verdy and Conrad Ludlow.  It is one of Mr. B.’s most felicitous creations, mounted on two special artists. The effect of the original and current couple was marked by a special audience hush I witnessed for both performances, a rare and memorable moment in the theatre experience.

Rojo is to be congratulated for this inclusion of company, the apprentices and students, with such a focus on the delivery of memorable froth.

The Tall and the Small; Three more Swan Queens

I was privileged to see all four Odette-Odiles and their Siegfrieds, plus the nasty von Rothbarts of Alexander Reneff-Olson and Nathaniel Remez in the company to Tab Buckner, and dance professionals Carlos and Carolyn Carvajal, intensifying my pleasure. Standing ovations, at their conclusions,  nice and deserving, given the recent announcement of three imported artists to dance in the final week of the company’s season. None of the principal artists need feel they take a back seat for the guests. The company doesn’t need imports.

Ballet’s production of Swan Lake as presented by Helgi Tomasson. It was most gratifying. At the outset, let me record the fact that all four interpretations contributed to solidify either its reputation or the calibre and accomplishments of its dancers.  Guest artists should merely supply the finishing touches, a tad more sheen.

Frances Chung was partnered by Joseph Walsh, Wona Park by Wei Wang and Sasha de Sola by Isaac Hernandez.  I would characterize the three casts as sweet, dramatic and elegaic in that order, all thoroughly engulfed by the story with its technical demands, all handily met by the three sets of dancers. Foettes did travel, but had their fair share of doubles in the beginning of those vaunted 32.

I registered Nathaniel Remez as the von Rothbart for Park and Wang, Reneff-Olson for de Sola-Hernandez. Reneff-Olson by this time has inhabited the role enough to provide nuance with Remez rapidly on his way.

Sasha Mukhamadev doubled as one of the two principal swans and as the Spanish contender for Siegfried’s hand in Act III.  An interesting and promising note on casting was the inclusion of Jacey Gailliard as her partner swan, size wise. Matching Sasha, Jacey clearly has the limbs and carriage of a Balanchine dancer in contrast to Sasha’s Russian training but they paired well.  Jacey needs work on her rond de jambe en l’air, but otherwise was fully on target.

In addition to their pleasure, the Carvajals made some interesting observations. Carlos observed the costuming was mostly on the autumn and winter palette.  Carolyn observed that the lighting on the ACTs II and IV mountain was quite oppossite to where the moon could be seen in the sky.

Smuin Contemporary Ballet at 30

Right off at the bat, three decades and thriving is no mean feat, not to include the acquisition of its own physical home in San Francisco’s Mission District. Its programming of roughly two seasons and a Christmas run in four locations [Walnut Creek, San Francisco, Mountain View and the Monterey Peninsula] has enabled the management and a roster of sixteen dancers of varying tenure to pursue a program enjoyable to dance enthusiasts frequently uninterested in either modern dance, classical ballet and a solely singular choreographic vision.

Let’s drink to that.

To add to this accomplishment, Smuin Contemporary Ballet is slated to appear at New York City’s Joyce Theater in July. During the fall season, Amy Seiwart, currently Associate Artistic Director, will assume the full Artistic director’s position with the retirement of Celia Fushile.

To mark Nombre trente, the company premiered “Zorro!” Based on the works of John McCulley with the silent and talkie movies which featured Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. and Tyrone Power, the 11-scene scenario by Matthew Robbins mixes the Zorro figure with 1959 Los Angeles, Emilio, a dreamy movie usher, a tyrannical theatre owner, and a ticket girl intermingled with bits and pieces of the early plots, the eventual battle between the owner and Emilio who has learned sword skills from the swashbuckling Zorro. Included are movie goers and their pop-corn antics.

The performance May 2 was listed as a world premiere though Artistic Director Celia Fushile remarked in the glossy program that Zorro had not been seen in 17 years. She also remarked that Michael Smuin was both an entertainer and a story teller and everything in this 11-scene ballet underscores that truism. Those credited in its current form were the composer Charles Fox with the music recorded by the Czech Chamber Philharmonic Orchestra; Ann Beck responsible for costumes, Sara Linnie Slocum with lighting adapted by Michael Oesch; scenic design by Douglas Schmidt and Richard Lane as fencing master.

It is a definite romp, with sections showing the influences of the Christensen vaudeville expertise, a touch here and there of Jerome Robbins and a raucous interval for the pop-corn devouring of the ticketed patrons. There was an ingenious usage of a tall mobile ladder, a confection-looking ticket booth, and the backdrop of the movie theatre facade. Without question, the pace and development bore the stamp of Michael’s capacity to move the narrative forward, adding crucial details and reactions at salient moments.

Following the intermission was a 2004 Smuin concoction titled “Fly Me to the Moon”, utilizing songs rendered by Frank Sinatra in a recording which was a bit on a loud side though his phrasing still managed to capture lyrics and mood. With the girls in ankle length tutus and the men looking appropriate to the ballroom, the numbers danced along with charm and nice little visual accents to the lyrics. As in “Zorro”, no one was specifically credited, although a regular attendee probably could have provided me with identities. That however, may be possible in the later spring season.

Lillith – A fabulous Collaboration

It was necessary to consult Wikipedia for information about Lillith to learn that she was reputed to be Adam’s first wife and was cast off. The Jewish tradition about her must be quite varied, and the general implication is that she must have been nasty and too much a challenge for Adam. Other than that, Lillith is a mystery and Fanny Ara, the special flamenco artist, decided to collaborate on the 55-minute piece bearing that name, presented in ODC’s B Way Theatre February 23, 24-25. I saw the February 25, 5p.m. performance. I was mesmerized, not only with Ara’s performance, but also with the totality of the production.

Lillith under Ara’s direction included Gonzalo Grau for musical direction, plus keyboard and cello; Vardan Ovespian as pianist, Pamela Martinez as costume designer, Mathew Antaky, as lighting designer with Miriam De Silva as stage manager.

Additional credits listed n the single sheet were Padron & Co, graphic design; Muchachado Mandanga for poetry and Emilio Ochando as artistic advisor.

The program stated four stages: Identity; Pretend; Sexualilty; Liberation.

All that aside, the lights went up on Ara, illumined in a still position at backstage left, with greenish color accents, looking like something from a 19th century Dante Gabriel Rossetti painting. As moving downstage, cloaked in a cape-like garment with its head covering, the sense of prowling established itself with only the occasional use of taconeo. Actually, the elements of flamenco were employed sparingly throughout, accents to emotion, to be sure, but never displayed for virtuosity.

The mid-section of the piece displayed a marvel of the art of the prowl, cat-like but also with touches of “what’s it to you bub?”, “just you try,” achieved with little, if any castenets. I wouldn’t want to be in that path or confronted with the wrathful image Ara projected. Piano and percussion amplified the storm.

The tempest abated and this creature became aware of the sensuous nature of her being; there was preening and a brief flirtation with the piano [Ara’s early training was with the piano], seeming to come to terms with mood, energy and environment. The contrast in movement style and quality was marked.

The final portion displayed Ara utilizing skirts, turns and occasional taconeo, the creature of her imaginings gathering bits and pieces of her travail into a new state of being. Supported by her two musicians, she embraced the swirl of her many skirts, the space and a different mentality as the stage abruptly blacked out.

I was staggered at the intricacy with which Lillith wove its ambiance, to say nothing of the costumer’s skill in supporting a flamenco artist whose stature is major, and whose sparing appearances makes her presence and the productions she conceives so memorable.

Swan Pond’s Fogo

Admittedly, that’s not a very swift title to relate Nikisha Fogo’s ravishingly beautiful reading of the unfortunate princess, doomed by a nasty man with glistening green black wings. 

But Nikisha Fogo’s Odette-Odile February 23 was one of the rare birds to inhabit the role, the costumes and the stage of San Francisco Opera House. From the graceful young woman in wispy white on downstage left approached by a dark, forbidding man, to her ultimate dash to the stage mountain to plunge into the abyss, Fogo provided a rapt audience reinforcement of why it likes the 19th century Imperial Russian fairytale of ill-fated love. Clearly an audience favorite, with the opening curtain, all seemed right in San Francisco’s ballet kingdom.

With Aaron Robison as Siegfried, Act I’s birthday transpires in front of the Palace Gates, a spare, almost forbidding omen of the future, no trees, shrubs, flowers, though courtiers and peasants there to honor their future monarch. One of the company’s younger, strong character dancers. Robison was in wonderful form, his genial manner as he accepted the attention comfortable in  accepting the attention, but dismayed by Katita Waldo’s Queen Mother. She not only provides her son with a cross bow but an ultimatum regarding nuptials and what it entails in the family lineage and his dismay is reflected in a dancing soliloquy, getting Ricardo Bustamonte’s tutor’s so-so support to the regal demand.

As part of the diversion/celebration, Esteban Hernandez led Katherine Barkman and Isabella da Vivo in the pas de trois before the peasants danced their tribute. For aging balletomanes like yours truly, the male variation was utilized as Siegfried’s variation in the one act Swan Lake which Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo presented to its audience, the Siegfried’s Frederick Franklin, Oleg Tupine, Leon Danielan among the dancers. 

Given the ultimatum, the end of the day and departure of the celebrants, Siegfried found consolation with the cross bow and the flight of swans in the darkening sky matched his impulse to hunt. Apparently in Eastern Europe and Russia, the practice of swan hunts was a privileged past time.

In Act II we are introduced to the mountain and the imprisoned swans, with Von Rothbart glorying in his captive flock and its queen, but on the guard at the approach of Siegfried. Our hero is about to aim, but noting the difference between swan and woman, drops the cross bow. As the slender, tall Nikisha Fogo enters his orbit as Odette. Her maneuvers of the head were distinct, but unexaggerated. In her incisive review for Culture Vulture-Dance, Toba Singer mentioned Julio Bocca as coach. .

Understandably curious about the birdlike woman Siegfried managed to restrain her,  clearly captivated by her quality. The partnering proceeds, swan timid, prince careful and solicitous until that moment when Siegfried turns away, and Odette approaches him, lifting his left arm as she registers trust, involvement and nascent love.

Fogo’s variation, the rapid echappes, backward traveling, followed jumps and developpes which is, bar none, prime amongst most evocative of a ballerina’s solos, where the working foot [right] travels past the knee into attitude. Good dancers give the passe its due and picky balletomanes await the execution with interest.

Siegfried, totally captivated, pledges his troth, soon followed by the tug between mortal promise and Odette’s continued enthrallment, leaving the prince subdued, for the Act III enticement by Odile, arriving after the national dancers whose royal blood has come as potential bridal selection.

With Alexander Reneeff-Olson as Von Rothbart, Fogo’s Odile provided us with a spectacular seductress, port de bras, gaze, bravura – the whole bit, including what looked like at least one triple and two or three doubles in those hall mark 32 foettes. While there was some travel downstage, she by an large framed the foette impulse as one can see in Arleen Sugano’s diagram for TED. It was enough to dazzle Siegfried to declare Odile his choice and to pledge such, only to find it was simply one of Von Rothbart’s devilish devices to control Odette.

Two Knights’ Work

Yes, indeed, two choreographers were knighted because of their choreography and S.F. Ballet displayed their diligent craft in Program two. I might add that both men shared the slightly out of center childhood [born in Peru and Scotland] which may well have influenced some of their choices. Tamara Rojo gifted San Francisco Ballet audiences with two works that testify to their highly individual visions: Kenneth Macmillan’s Song of the Earth and Frederick Ashton’s Marguerite and Armand.

Scots-born MacMillan created Song of the Earth for Stuttgart Ballet in 1965. It was only later that The Royal accepted it for its repertoire. Reading up on MacMillan’s life after the performance, the work was initially refused by The Royal, but John Cranko at Stuttgart provided its premiere.  I find that interesting because, both from a distance and closer up, there is a paired, loose quality choreographically to standard ballet technique, incorporating both a  looping, sweeping movement of the legs and feet, plus a bending and arching atypical of conventional technique.  It is a mild harbinger of changing approaches to English choreography already part of American works, Jerome Robbins in particular.  This approach is very modest, and seeing the work the second time, in row J, I was impressed by its spare quality with a deceptive looseness, particularly in the patterns danced by men.  MacMillan managed to echo the vocal line with his patterns, but I wished to God I knew German, for the accents would have been that much more heightened. A translation would have been much appreciated.

When it comes to Marguerite and Armand, however there is little hesitation about its genesis and realization, thanks to Margot Fonteyn and Rudolph Nureyev in the second year of their celebrated partnership.  It also was Ashton’s last creation for Fonteyn, bolstered by a simply magically evocative set design by Cecil Beaton.  As one regarded it before the dancing took prime attention, one saw the adage “less is more” with a finesse nearly Asian in its aesthetic sparseness. [Asians can be over the top like any other group, but they do excel in minimalist wonder a good bit of the time.]

The set is circular, with suggestions of pillars, a chandelier which is lowered and eased depending upon location, city or country, and a chaise longue just up from downstage right where Marguerite is found lying as Armand emerges from down stage left in an explosive demonstration of bravura style turns, jetes and extensions. There is no indication at this point of the connection. 

A grass-toned green curtain is drawn and when we see Marguerite again she is dressed in raspberry-hued gown ruffled at the chest and arms, surrounded by foppish young men.  Laughing, she also suffers from a consumptive cough, though shortly thereafter the two lovers meet, supported by the lush Liszt score, the curtain is drawn to allow Marguerite to change into a white gown, 

Armand’s father – Ricardo Bustamonte or Pascal Molat, their entrance from mid-stage back with a still demeanor echoed by the music. Their steely demeanor, of course, permits a physical aria of pleading by Marguerite to no avail. The subsequent split between the two lovers is perhaps the weakest movement in the ballet, but is compensated with the return to Marguerite’s Parisian salon where she is seen with a glistening black overlay to the prior virginal white.

The Nuts, SFB’s Season’s Finale

If anything, the December 30th 4 p.m. performance drew a wonderfully lively crowd. Katy Warner mentioned that her daughter had been Clara at one time; she also remembered when she was part of the Snow scene. This was before her tenure with Dance Spectrum under Carlos Carvajal, and then working with Alonso King, in the early seasons of Lines Ballet.

Alexander Reneff-Olson’s the finale’s Drosselmeyer, expanded his command of the role with finesse and flourish. For his Dresden-like doll Julia Rowe’s staccato pointe steps and port de bras proved the best I’ve watched since Carla Blanco, now teaching in Spain; that takes some doing, believe me.

Jim Sohm and Joanna Berman conveyed grandparent status. She, sweet, cheerfully turning to Sohm’s big-hearted flourishes, both making for well-earned audience approval.

Frances Chung and Calvin Conley prevailed through the snow storm, well-timed, secure in their assignments. A surprise ending to the snow scene were the fistfulls of fake snow flung by the corps as the music wound to its climax.

Katisha Fogo provided elegance to the Sugar Plum Fairy, a certain inner containment exuding quiet authority; her arabesques a slight, but definite accent cementing the impression. Fogo’s individuality is such that I hope to see her essay some comic role that the repertoire possesses or that gets conjured up on her behalf.

Ming Yuan Wang, being chased by the paper demons in the Chinese variation, delivered notable ballon and height as he avoided the dangerous red silhouettes.

Wona Park and Wei Wang completed the magic of Act II with their tidy rendering of the grand pas de deux. While I use the word tidy because of size,  they lacked nothing in bravura, excellence or the air of natural dispatch in assignment,  emphasizing speed and dazzle in execution

For me, their innate elegance conjures up traditional Asian calligraphy, the years of practice, concentration and the eye hand coordination in the use of the brush, a meditation of will, spirit and skill.

I should not finish the seasonal comments without acknowledging the flexibility, skill, dash and elevation of Davide Occhipenti, Joao de Silva and Jack Seltzer brought to their Act I variations.

As Katy and I left the foyer, parents, children and adults were still snapping images on their cell phones recording a memorable after noon at San Francisco’s War Memorial Opera House.

Nuts – Second View

As you can’t help but be aware, I am a sucker for multiple castings, and probably could scrunch into a sleeping bag if tickets and space were available to witness all casts.

With Brooke Byrne, co-owner of Geary Dance Center, I saw San Francisco Ballet’s Nutcracker the second time on December 26, the matinee. This time Jasmine Jimison inhabited the grand pas de deux with Mingyuan Wang as her cavalier and Wona Park dispensed with the Sugar Plum Fairy duties. Welcoming Ricardo Bustamonte and his charge to the evocation of Golden Gate Park’s Conservatory.

Jim Sohm and Katita Waldo were the grand parents, Jim with his stiff gallantry and broad gestures, Katita, fluttery, flighty, but clearly ready for anything.

There were, as usual, a number of double duties – Nathaniel Remez as both the Mouse King, hamming it up with relish and conviction and later the lead Russian in the Vilzak variation in Act II.

Chronic Complaint: The invisibility of the Snow Queen and King both at the Act I and Final Curtains. Why are they dispensed with, minus curtain call, instead of along with the snow debris on the floor?

Wona Park displayed her duties with a casual yet authoritative air, and of course, was seen with her usual competence in the Waltz of the Flowers. When it came to technical skill, Mingyuan Wang essayed his role as a Prince with his difident, but competent air. He and Jasmine Jimison provided a worthy climax in the Act II pas de deux. They also allowed a glimpse into how the running leap onto the Prince’s shoulder is accomplished, the discovery an exciting revelation. Wang invariably is correct in all his solo assignments; more partnering would allow him to display greater ease with the task. Jimison danced with her usual liquid phrasing.