A March Bon-Bon: San Francisco Ballet Dances Coppelia

March 8 San Francisco reintroduced its Pacific Northwest Ballet co-production of Coppelia, the George Balanchine-Alexandra Danilova ballet premiered at New York City Ballet in 1974. Staged by Judith Fugate, Before going into detail about designer, the Leo Delibes’ music and etc., let me say that it was memory lane. That effervescent path has been trod by anyone remembering The Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo and Danilova in Swanhilda’s shoes and Frederick Franklin as the roving-eyed Franz Some San Franciscans will remember Ruby Asquith in the Willam Christensen production. In addition, a small cadre of dancers danced in the Ballet Celeste production mounted by Merriem Lanova who had danced in the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo version and passed it along to her young charges, touring it through the United States and Hawaii. Carolyn Carvajal was one such veteran, remembering what remained and what was new, courtesy of Mr. B.

Roberta Guidi de Bagno has given the production pastel prettiness without being goopy or stretching costumes beyond a logical take on Galacia’s folk qualities without becoming too specific. No sequins, feathers and the like. Coppelius’ attic studio is cavernous, Randall G. Chiarelli giving it just the right slightly gloomy light, neither daylight or well illumined, just as Acts I and III are suitably sunny.

Cheryl  Osseola’s extensive program notes provided the audience with Coppelia’s background, E.T.A. Hoffman, the 1870 production created by Arthur Saint-Leon, Franz’ role en traverstie, ultimately Enrico Cecchetti’s revival with Franz becoming danced by a male. The lifts between Franz and Swanhilda are definitely twentieth century additions.

Carolyn remarked that the mime and plot remained untouched. The ensemble dances were different; I remember Robert Lindgren and Sonya Tyyven leading the czardas in the final act, the ensemble dances being broken up into the first and third acts and Yvonne Chouteau in Act III’s Prayer solo. Balanchine has combined them.

Tuesday saw Frances Chung as Swanhilda, Vitor Luiz as her Franz and the superb debut of Pascal Molat as Coppelius. If the program notes mention Chung’s strangeness with mime, she has moved far beyond it to a sparkling, clear ability to convey traditional query and delivery. She is one of the company’s sparkling allegro dancers; there was an almost Fonteyn-like propriety in her delivery, yet still very much Chung. Small wonder she holds an Izzie award for individual performance.

Luiz makes a believable Franz, unforced classicism, unmannered presentation and partnering impeccable. Molat’s elderly doll maker hobbles across the town square with acute accuracy of age and arthritis. His attic scene with Swanhilda’s impersonation of Coppelia was masterly; delusion and elderly excitement.

For those unfamiliar with the plot, it concerns Swanhilda, a spirited young village girl, and her boy friend Franz who also has his eye on Coppelia, a beautiful creature who is wheeled onto a balcony by her maker, Dr. Coppelius. This makes Swanhilda and Franz quarrel. In a twilight excursion, Coppelius is roughed up by Franz and friends, losing his key. Swanhilda and her friends find the key and venture into the Coppelius’ workshop at Act I’s curtain. In Act II, the girls discover the toys and the inanimate Coppelia. Coppelius returns, chasing the girls out; Swanhilda remains assuming Coppelia’s clothing. Franz, meanwhile, attempts to reach the doll via the aid of a ladder; intercepted by Coppelius, he is drugged by wine. Coppelius attempts to bring Coppelia to life using Franz’ life force, pouring over a huge book of spells. Swanhilda plays along with Coppelius, becoming more life like, only to destroy his fantasy and to flee with Franz.

Frances Chung and Pascal Molat in Balanchine’s CoppÈlia. (© Erik Tomasson)

Act III sees the dedication of the bells, announced in French language banners in Act I. Many wedding couples. Coppelius is seen, heart-broken, with his doll in his arms; Swanhilda and Franz also get married, and several celebratory dances ensue. In this production, a bevy of young students perform a charming dance, impossible for the old touring production. The Ballet Russe production provided recompense to Coppelius; here he is pushed aside all too rapidly.

The Act III divertissements featured Sasha de Sola as Dawn in a costume with golden tracery; Sofiane Sylve’s Prayer was cloaked in blue chiffon with touches of grey; four Jesterettes and finally Discord and War led by Jennifer Stahl and Hansuke Yamamoto, laden with spears, Greek-style plumed helmets and garments of black and silver metallic touches, perpetually leaping with one leg raised to waist height, moving in circles and linear patterns. The dominant note in this finale was twenty-three students in pink tutus, led by Lauren Strongin, in the Waltz of the Golden Hours, the same number commencing the January 2016 Gala. To me it took away from the earlier variations danced by de Sola and Sylve, rendering them more divertissements than sweet, evocative variations.

The Waltz is an inducement to students, and, probably, parents. Balanchine and Danilova undoubtedly had memories of similar use of students in the Imperial Ballet Academy in St. Petersburg. Used to the pared-down version, I found the yards of pink tutu a bit distracting to this French-born bon-bon. Like La Fille Mal Gardee, created in 1789 in Bordeaux by Jean Dauberval and the 1837 premiere of Giselle of Jules Perrot and Juan Corelli, these three durable ballets share French ancestry, however much layers and modifications may have ensued. Vive La France!

The Terra Cotta Prince at Cupertino: AKA Chinese Nutcracker

Once upon a time; that favorite beginning for children’s tales; so it was for me in the ‘Thirties. Watching Sesame Street on PBS makes me just too chock full of outdated memories. Given Petyr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s holiday favorite, a Nutcracker by any other name still is The Nutcracker.

Cupertino is in the heart of Silicon Valley. It was once noted for its excellent cherries. Here Cupertino refers to Flint Center, Theatre Ventures International bringing The Terra Cotta Prince to its stage December 18-22; an intertwined venture with the Dalian Acrobats the San Jose/Dublin, Ireland sister city connection. Theatre Ventures International is based in San Jose; but concern lest this unusual take on La Caisse Noissete as it is called in French, impinge on box office receipts for the ballet company bearing San Jose’s name, caused the move to Cupertino, which gets a big red crate of cherries for hosting this holiday marvel.

What was the percentage? Does it even matter? The Chinese contributed the Dalian Acrobatic Troupe and Dennis Nahat’s unerring eye gto them to Los Angeles and the Bay Area. Doubtless totally irrelevant for this genius adaption of its E.T.A. Hoffman origins performance to that lilting score of Petyr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. I can say for sure that with three friends, Stephen Goldstine, Corrine Nagata and Remedios Munar, I was enchanted.

Not reading Mary Ellen Hunt’s December 18 prelude in The San Francisco Chronicle, I was unprepared for the ingenious mixture of acrobatic skill and costuming, the genuine Chinese touches displayed on stage. Every Nutcracker I have seen has been something of a pastiche of a pastiche of exotic cultures or improbable fantasies. This was imperial Russian style, late Nineteenth century and hothouse years of the Twentieth century’s first decade, where Russian diplomatic and territorial aspirations fueled subject matter many, many layers removed from the pages and protocol of diplomacy. So, no problem in witnessing a thoroughly Chinese take on the holiday staple.

Three choreographers were credited: Zhang Yong Quiang, Jin Yunjiang and Sui Wei; Art Director Yang Jiansheng and Xie Yuxi were listed for sets, Xie Yuxi for lighting. Costume Designers Xu Shimin, Zhang Shuxun, Xu Zeng and Pan Liya outdid themselves; music editors Lin Yan and Jian Dhai skillfully manipulated sequences to Petyr’s score, adding Chinese percussion at salient moments. Lin Quan stage managed; Kenneth Keith as U.S. technical director; locally John Gertbetz and Jim Fung accomplished the program and public relations. Qi Chunsheng, director of the Dalian Acrobatic Troupe, adapted the perennial holiday diversion, Dennis Nahat accomplishing the overall direction.

The overture built the excitement when ten young women roller skated around the Flint Stage, sporting snowflake-shaped boomerangs, zipping in and out, some several with split-second daring, seducing us with excitement and admiration.

The family servants prepared for the guests’ arrival, the men manipulating four white chairs; the women remove them. The quartet held their position so the audience registered admiration before collapsing. The women guests arrived, gowned in an impressive series of black and white gowns, some etched a tad with silver, short, chic and clearly preening.

Grandfather, Yao Fei, arrived in a chromium wheelchair, accompanied by nurse Liu Kexue. The chair provided gravity-calculated high jinks; falling backward and self-righting [what incredible abs!]. Grandpa tilted, fell, recovered; scarcely the stuff of decrepitude. When Grandad exited, Nurse Liu was slung across his lap.

Drosselmeyer, Lam Kwan Wing, tall, white wigged, moved with deliberate speed, his cane emitting bursts of flames at suitably musical climaxes.

A panda replaced a bear, with companion. The bottle master, a slender, limber Yu Yongian, amazed us juggling wooden wine vessels on square blocks;two layers, then a third – the latter requiring two or three repetitions before structure and balance produced the proper effect – a combination of brass cymbals and Chinese strings emphasized the repetitions of Tchaikovsky phrases during the attempts.

Acrobatic bravura, delicate virtuosity and visual surprises were sprinkled hroughout the production, one amazement to gladden the eye after another. In Act I it was heavily underscored by Cao Lei as the Treetop Doll, picking her way carefully on top of each light strung on a very solid tree. Each light her pointe landed on in the upward spiral burst into light at her step; at the finale Lei was balanced skyward at the tree’s apex, clearly its star. Thunderous applause.

Inevitably, Drosselmeyer Wing revealed a scarlet-coated warrior which he bestowed on Wang Yu Rei, the production’s Marie. Zhang Lijin wrought the expected destruction. Here, one felt dramatic coherence yielded to acrobatic brilliance, an imbalance probably corrected in later performances.

The traditional fight scene pitted Terra Cotta Warriors against Ninjas followed by Snowflakes; in grey, they bore bouquets of long-stemmed, multi-petaled flowers, swooping, swirling to the memorable music.

Act II featured some wonderful swaths of claret-hued silk, manipulated by four skillful women, climbing, displaying the material. They were followed by five parasol-toting graces, parasols patterned delicately inside and out. Lu Mingyue gradually received the entire supply, manipulating the increased supply with her toes; we watched breathlessly.

In the Grand Pas de Deux, Wang Yu Rui and Zou Yu provided the final spectacle; her postures at the finish of a phrase were impeccable, but the transitions between indicated Rui was an acrobat rather than a ballerina. Still, standing in full pointe on Yu’s stead shoulders,then on his head; nothing to be sneezed at, and Rui enjoyed Yu’s careful, steady partnering.

For the final tableau Rui returned with her Terra Cotta Warrior Toy, Drosselmeyer Wing standing behind her, in front of Chinese characters dashed on a white drop in traditional, spectacular black.

Dennis Nahat’s organization of this complicated production is admirable; one hopes The Terra Cotta Warrior returns next season to Cupertino’s Flint Auditorium.

Ballet San Jose’s Nutcracker, San Jose’s Performing Arts Center, December 10

Ballet San Jose’s low profile this fall dissipated with the opening of its annual Nutcracker and Janice Berman’s feature on the San Francisco Classical Voice Website.  While the former was welcome, Berman’s coverage is not pleasant;  January 3 Ballet San Jose’s Guild will announce its decision regarding  the company, its spring season, Dennis Nahat’s fate and future artistic activity.  Apparently, when someone has given fourteen million dollars to a company’s coffers, he can dictate, determine hiring, repertoire, etc.  It’s a sad business. Stay tuned.

As Nahat and the late Ian Horvath envisioned The Nutcracker scenario over a quarter of a century ago in Cleveland, Ohio, it was very much a Euroopean affair in a stuffily furnished cold climate house, if long on hospitality. Maximo Califano assumed the Nahat role of Drosselmeyer with Roni Mahler as the all seeing parlor maid, Helga. The family name is now Tannenbaum, Ruth Ann Namey an attractive mother, Junna Ige Maria, Francisco Preciado the mischievous son.

The usual chaos occurs before Maria hunted for the nutcracker doll after the guests depart. Ballet San Jose’s small students assumed the roles of mice , taking on the company men who masquerade as toy soldiers.  The lively scene had Maria picking up the sword of the felled Nutcracker to thwack mortally the Mouse King. This unique version of the dispatch displayed Maria’s potential in adulthood.   Ramon Moreno, as Prince Alexis, emerged from the Nutcracker headdress to lead the petite Ige on their journey to the Imperial Throne Room in Moscow. En route they passed circuitously through Spain, some Arabic area and China before making it to the gates of Moscow where they were greeted by four Russian stalwarts.

Distinctive in Nahat’s reading of Tchaikovsky’s score and E.T.A. Hoffman is Maria and Prince Alexis’s constant activity en route to Moscow. In Snowland they replaced the usual monarchs of chill and snowflakes.  They danced Spanish-dusted steps in Spain, received a dash of oriental mystique in Arabic land and Alexis joined the guardians of Moscow’s portals. Ige and Moreno were not only well matched for size, but also for fleetness; Moreno’s grand jetes were arrow true, with long bow force behind them, while Ige’s stretch managed to sing in its brief flight.

Alexis, reunited with Mom and Pop, Jeremy Kovitch as Tsar Nicolai, Alexsandra Meijer as Tsarina Tatiana,  Alexis recounted the tale.  Mama rejoiced before rushing off to prepare for the Grand Pas de Deux, Kovitch gallantly supported Meijer’s classical line, marred by her belief cocking or stretching her head will add the final touch to the otherwise pristine.

Instead of head flower and blossoms, the Act II waltz is given to couples, the women with white satin gowns, the men in black tie and tails, swooping around the stage. Circling the space, the company completed its involvement with two or three roles  required of most dancers, met with considerable grace.

Prince Alexis carried Maria back to the chair near the fireplace where they first met, settled her in where she was discovered by her parents and carried off to bed.  Mother Tannenbaum noted  the change in garments, took a look at the mantelpiece where the small nutcracker rewarded her with a bow.  Mother T crossed the stage wondering, shrugged her shoulders as the curtain fell.