Tag Archives: National Ballet of Canada

A Splendid Last Hurrah: S.F. Ballet’s Eugene Onegin

2 May

Santo Loquasto’s atmospheric setting for the Pushkin-inspired ballet Eugene Onegin started its brief run April 30 at San Francisco’s Opera House where it will close San Francisco Ballet’s 2016 spring season May 8. What it also does is signal the final performances of Joan Boada as Prince Gremin and Gennadi Nedvigin as the ill-fated Lensky with the company where they have danced for nearly two decades.

The roles of Tatiana and Onegin were danced by Maria Kochetkova and Vitor Luiz with Lauren Strongin making her local debut as Olga.

Choreographer John Cranko (1927-1973) is noted for his mounting of the Russian poetic novel, using a different gathering of melodies by Petyr Ilyich Tchaikovsky than his opera of the same name. Cranko’s Taming of The Shrew and Romeo and Juliet are other evidences of his magical ability to transform familiar stories or dramas into absorbing ballets. Cranko’s heritage has been diligently reconstructed by choreologist Jane Bourne, supported by Stuttgart Ballet’s artistic director Reid Anderson.

Loquasto’s set and costumes, borrowed from The National Ballet of Canada, place the story in early-mid-nineteenth century, at a Russian summer home where woman sew, including Olga [Lauren Strongin] for a party while Tatiana [Kochetkova] is absorbed in reading, probably a romantic novel. The results, ball gowns for the two young woman, get scant attention from the dreamy Tatiana, Kochetkova registering her character with a contemplative carriage of the head and shoulders, Strongin quickly prone to impulsive enthusiasm, each affectionate with the other. Loquasto created a pillared porch covering most of stage left, which is transformed as necessary throughout the two scene/three act performance. Olga’s dressmaking skills with the needle seemed excessively exaggerated.

At a downstage left table, a mirror is placed where the two girls look to find a suitor behind. Olga draws Lensky as interpreted by Gennadi Nedvigin. A role he danced in the 2013 season, his dancing and demeanor is to swoon over, his lines clearly muscled, sculptured, correct: heart-breaking visual poetry. His reading of Lensky is warm, open-hearted too sensitive for his own good; a young man filled to his hair follicles with love. Even familiar with the story and Nedvigin’s interpretation I found myself breathing “Oh, no, be careful.”

Nedvigin’s appearance is prelude to a solo passage and then an extended pas de deux  of young romance. Strongin responds as an Olga delighted with the attention, very secure and confident of her hold on Lensky. A little tall for Nedvigin, he adroitly shepherded her under a necessary supported pirouette or two.

When it comes Tatiana’s turn to sit down before the mirror, she is diffident. In the meantime Onegin [Vitor Luiz] has strolled in deliberately from upstage left, an almost pencil-rigid figure in black, to be greeted warmly by Lensky, making polite gestures to the women, clearly mentally checking off the rustic nature of the gathering. His fingers twiddle tellingly behind his back. When he Onegin appears behind Tatiana, his mirror image creates an overwhelming, fluttering response, while one senses it’s for him to pass the time of day..

They engage in quite formal conversation, Onegin inquiring about Tatiana’s reading material ; his veiled expression indicates his distaste, if returning it politely. They exit arm in arm, and the rustics arrive, not quite garrulous serfs [not liberated until 1861], but clearly not dacha occupants. With the girls in equally quasi-peasant dresses, two lengthy diagonals are executed with Olga and Lensky lead participants as the curtain falls.

Tatiana’s virginal bedroom scene follows, empire bed with drapery upstage right and mirror upstage center with modest desk and candle replacing the summer wicker table. Pale blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders, Tatiana tries to pen her emotions on paper, only to be prevented by her devoted nurse who leads her back to bed, taking the shawl. That doesn’t deter Tatiana, who returns to the desk, falls asleep and we are given the substance of her dream, led to the mirror through which Onegin appears and leads her in a rapturous pas de deux  before disappearing into the mirror. Kochetkova and Luiz capture Tatiana’s luscious dream with lifts, supported arabesques, beating with ecstatic satisfaction and pirouettes, reflecting Tatiana’s youthful passion kindled by Onegin’s appearance.

Act II opens with the country ball, where Tatiana appears in her white gown, Olga in pink with various members of the community gather wishing Tatiana well as Lensky and Olga are self-involved. Onegin arrives, with Tatiana aware he has received her letter. There is polite dancing, and Onegin waits until they are alone to withdraw Tatiana’s letter, tearing it up in front of her eyes. At this moment the older Prince Gremin arrives, is presented to Tatiana. He sympathetically engages her,dancing while Onegin plays solitaire on the down stage table.

With Onegin’s tension rising and to alleviate his annoyance, he grabs Olga from Lensky and makes her his partner, as the dancing fever mounts. Lensky tries to reclaim Olga, retrieves her for a moment only to have Onegin grasp her again. Olga is visibly excited at the push and pull, Tatiana distraught, though gently curbed by Prince Gremin. Lensky, beside himself, flings his white gloves on the floor in front of Onegin; he pauses, cooler, tries to dissuade Lensky who, in return, applies the gloves to Onegin’s face.

The second scene, notably spare has Onegin in front of the curtain with a sweeping black cloak, gun in hand, clearly troubled by the result of his impulses. The curtain rises on Lensky moving from upstage right to downstage left, against the a grey landscape marked by birch trees, shedding his equally impressive brown cloak. There follows an eloquently danced soliloquy, Lensky expressing yearning, regret and belief in his doom, before Olga and Tatiana rush from stage left, heads covered with kerchiefs, to attempt to dissuade Lensky. The push-pull of the trio is strong, poignant, futile. Onegin appears from stage right and also tries to dissuade Lensky only to have his face slapped – too much. As the two women crouch in the front of the stage, one hears a fatal shot, a fall. Onegin appears again from stage right, walking across the stage. Tatiana rouses herself, stands and stares at Onegin before leaving with Olga. Onegin suddenly bends, breaking into sobs.

Act III occurs in the St. Petersburg ballroom of Prince Gremin and Tatiana, three massive chandeliers hanging  from scarlet. Onegin is escorted by Prince Gremin, both now  touched  with grey at the temples. Gremin excuses himself; there is a lavish display of dancing and Onegin experiences episodes of encounters wafting in and out of his arms. Gremin appears again with Tatiana, now a composed, clearly sheltered matron; a pas de deux ensues, expressing marital bliss and comfort, particularly Gremin’s protection of Tatiana. Joan Boada, making his final appearances as Prince Gremin, created a solicitous older husband, touches hinting at the understanding present at the Act II country ball, fascinating how many of the same steps convey a special pitch enhanced by the music. After the domestic calm, Tatiana visibly cringes when she encounters Onegin, who has been mesmerized when  recognizing her, a black contrast against the brilliant hues of the dancers, frequently intruding on the dance space of Gremin and Tatiana.

As the scenery is changing Onegin stands before the curtain, immersed in fleeting moments of the brief days at the summer dacha. When the curtain rises, the writing desk is now downstage right, the angled pillars have been domesticated with a hobby horse visible, and the back stage indicates a grand foyer. In brown, Tatiana is visibly disturbed, as Gremin, in uniform overladen with cord and medals, is about to take off for the office. She clings, draws him back for reassurance. He comforts her and departs.

Tatiana sits at the desk, tense, apprehensive; one can see Onegin in the background, moving uncertainly before he bursts on the scene to the opening love sequence of Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini, a completely apt selection for Onegin’s push-pull, knee-crawling, skirt clinging confessional. Just when you think Onegin has made his last plea, something else happens until – Tatiana practically staggers to the desk, picks up Onegin’s letter, lets him look at it. shreds it before him, pointing to the exit to which he rushes. Staggering while trembling and spent, she faces the audience, exhausted but
vindicated at last.

Of course, there was a burst of applause when the curtain rose for the two principals, and it continued for the other three principals, then for the corps de ballet. . Unfortunately there were no individual curtain calls though Boada, Strongin and Nedvigin were warmly acknowledged. I have the feeling it will be several years before we enjoy Onegin again, thanks in part to the decimation of San Francisco Ballet’s three male principals. Nedvigin, Boada and Pascal Molat.

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Azure Means Blue, Here Blue Equals Water, February 7

10 Feb

S.F. Performances brought Canadian-born Azure Barton and her seven dancers to Yerba Buena’s Lam Research Theatre February 7 and 8. Her press information provided a barrage of impressive information read only after the performance concluded. Arriving at 7:30, just as the performance was starting, I didn’t have a clue what I was going to see. The announcer stated Awaa, was to be sixty-nine minutes long without intermission. Such shorter, non-intermission works seem to becoming the performance norm for many modern companies.
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Projections were winding down just as I was seated; then a figure, gracefully stretched, silhouetted before a red circular disk, emerged. The young man, beautifully muscled and proportioned, hobbled half-way to his feet as he negotiated his way forward, gradually becoming upright, moving his arms with growing sureness and undulating his torso standing profile to the audience. As he emerged in full control, a stage front scrim rose into the fly space.

Suddenly the sound system provided us with water sounds, lots of it, no trickle down effects. It mingled with music and the stage suddenly was peopled with the seven dancers in pre-determined positions around the stage. The collective port de bras were wonderfully fluid, even semi-swimming, breast stroke and Australian crawl in formation. One dancer wore a pale blue tee-thirt and dark trousers; the other five men were mostly stripped to the waist and wearing white trousers.

Lara Barclay the lone girl, appeared in nondescript grey, near turtleneck and trousers. As already mentioned, I didn’t a clue about choreographer or dancers, but the unity and the manner in which they conveyed fluidity and the qualities of water I recognized reading the credits. The underwater nature of the piece became prominent in the final screen projections. For the final tableau, instead of the red circle, Barclay appeared in lengthy red; the original dancer folded himself into her arms.

It was eerie, beautiful and the dancers, Jonathan Emanuell Alsberry, Tobie Del Cuore, Lora Barclay, William Briscoe, Tobin Del Cuore, Thomas House, Nicholas Korkos, Danvon Rainey, were superb. Four of the dancers studied at Juilliard, Barclay at the National Ballet of Canada, Nicholar Korkas has local credits with Lines Ballet School, dancing in Maurya Kerr’s Tinypistol, Robert Moses’ Kin and Yuri Zhukov’s Dance Theatre. Other credits include international ballet companies and a stint with Barton’s residency in Mikhail Baryshnikov’s center in New York City. all definitely impressive.

I can’t resist mentioning an idiosyncratic observation: my friend Dan Henry, one-time professional ice skater with the Ice Capades, said he had never seen a group of men with the same pectoral formation.

The press information stated that Azure Barton’s genesis for Awaa, rose from a dream where she was in a rocking chair under water, and that Awaa was an effort explore the shifts between masculine and feminine. A name like Azure gives her a head start; it simply was a matter of time before her given name led to something special. I would enjoy seeing the work a second time;l the audience was equally enthusiastic.

John Cranko’s Onegin Mounted for San Francisco Ballet January 27

9 Feb

Malfunctioning U-Verse connections to my computer delayed posting these comments.

With  Santo Loquasto set and costumes borrowed from The National Ballet of Canada, San Francisco Ballet staged their elegant reading of John Cranko’s Onegin January 27 in a cast giving remarkable readings for the first of their  two scheduled  performances.  Vitor Luiz, cast as Onegin and Gennadi Nedvigin, Lensky, paired with Maria Kochekova as Tatiana and Clara Blanco as Olga.  Pascal Molat filled the blander role of Gremin with his usual warmth.

Other scheduled casts were: Davit Karapetyan and Vanessa Zahorian as Onegin and Tatiana with Taras Domitro and Dana Genshaft  Lensky and Olga, Quinn Wharton as Gremin. Sarah Van Patten and Pierre-Francois Vilanoba as  principals are flanked by Isaac Hernandez and Courtney Elizabeth as Lensky and Olga, Tiit Helimets as Gremin.  Yuan Yuan Tan as Tatiana was partnered by Ruben Martin Cintas as Onegin, Jaime Garcia Castilla as Lensky, Dores Andre, Olga, with Damian Smith as Gremin.

Casting gave major roles to Clara Blanco and Dores Andre as well as for Courtney Elizabeth, Dana Genshaft and Quinn Wharton. Blanco and Andre were promoted to soloist status following their debuts as Olga.

The production displayed a beautiful, classic columned  porch on the diagonal from upstage right, hinting at a comfortably grand country home; later it was Tatiana’s bedroom with an anteroom, then  an elegant palace in Act III’s  ballroom and the private room of  Tatiana, with the telling touch of a hobby horse downstage right, symbol of  her domestic existence. In Act II, the girls wore gauzy grey fluffy dresses contrasting to the townspeople wearing modified versions of  Regency dress with  bonnets;  Act III displays filmy  pastel elegance de rigeur for St. Petersburg. My one hesitation in believability was in the birches, Act II is Lensky’s and Onegin’s duel, despite pleadings by Tatiana and Olga.  A whiff of snowflakes falls where Tatiana’s birthday party was outdoors.

The five principals were matched in size, the timbre of their performances well- pitched from Kochetkova’s awkwardly romantic Tatiana to Luiz’  tensile precision, while Nedvigin as Lensky with Blanco as Olga displayed the image of warmth and assured young love with their remarkably correct, fluid style, breathtaking to watch. Molat as Gremin presented an assured, diplomatic, an ultimately family man.

Cranko’s assignments of  pas de deux fascinated – Act I, Scene I belonging to Lensky and Olga, Scene II with Tatiana’s letter  visualized through Onegin’s miror emergence.  Act II given to conflict; after the distasteful rejection of Tatiana’s letter,  Onegin’s provocation of Lensky ups the tension;  Scene II , filled with Lensky’s soliloquy, before the pas de trois with Olga and Tatiana prior to the senseless duel.

Luiz gave Onegin’s Act III demeanor bravado consistent with the character’s restlessness; his response seeing Tatiana was in the best coup de foudre style, clear contrast to the domestic  pas de deux between Tatiana and Gremin. Kochetkova made the Onegin  struggle  genuine by  drawing Gremin back from departing, seeking strength for her encounter,  passionate,  but never warm.

I saw the second performance of Van Patten-Vilanoba with Hernandez and Elizabeth and Helimets as Gremin. Van Patten and Vilanoba have partnered elsewhere; both share a believable stillness. Van Patten is naturally engaged whether in reading or in tending older folk at the party, hesitant but not awkward.  Her affection with Helimets as Gremin was warm, comfortable, making the struggle with Onegin monumental.

Vilanoba’s smiles and disdain  were  quiet, calm, thorough,  icy in impact where Vitor’s Onegin  smoldered intensity. Hernandez’ Lensky was the warm young romantic, broken in pieces. Elizabeth’s Olga’s was brittle and shallow.

San Francisco Ballet usually gives a new work two seasons; this holding true, the audience can enjoy the reprise of John Cranko’s dramatic, elegantly potent ballet in 2013.