Dance Flash: SF Ballet's Swan Lake, Reviewed

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You may think of Swan Lake as the pond outside of the Palace of Fine Arts, but it's also one of the most revered and timeless story ballets ever with roots dating back to the late 1800s. Most ballet companies perform it, and San Francisco Ballet is no exception. Last year, SF Ballet debuted a new version of Swan Lake. Now, what's new about a 120 year-old ballet, right? Well, this one had almost all new choreography, tightened up pantomime, original costumes, and some stunning visual effects. Not everything was to my liking, but this is art, so it's all subjective anyway. I got another chance to see SF Ballet's Swan Lake last night during its encore run, and was glad I did.

The prologue, opening to the recognizable woodwinds of Tchaikovsky's score, gives us a taste of what's to come, introducing us to the lovely princess Odette as she's entrapped by Anthony Spaulding's Hulk-crossed-with-Golem (at least in character. In my head, I heard him grrring and grunting as he whispered sadly, "My precious!") Von Rothbart. Is that his full name? Do his friends call him Von? I haven't a clue. But no matter his moniker, he magics Odette into a swan by day and a swan princess by night, and the audience sees this transformation through a projection against a light-colored scrim. It's cool and different without taking too much attention away from the story.

In the first act, we meet Prince Siegfried, danced last night by Vitor Luiz, as he's hanging out with the locals (peasants and aristocrats, all lounging and chatting outside of the main castle doors), celebrating his birthday. Now, politics aren't really discussed in ballet, and I noted this last year, but I have yet to wrap my head around this 20-something prince cavorting outside the castle with his grandfatherly tutor and a bunch of townsfolk in tow. As Seth Meyers and Amy Poehler would say, "Really?!?" He's hanging out with his buddies, the aristocrats, and the frolicking boot-attired peasants?

But putting the right side of my brain on hold, I enjoyed most of this section. The minimized pantomime helped speed things along (for those, like most people, that don't know the Swan Lake story, there's a handy play-by-play in the evening's casting sheet as well as in the program). Clara Blanco's crisp turns and effervescent smile stood out in the pas de trois (a dance for three people), and the peasant dance added a little peppiness after the aristocrats threatened to No-Doze me.

The strength of the swans is a testament to the depth of any company, and in last night's Act II, the female swan flock were out in full force, with supple shoulders and soft bourrées (where the women, en pointe, tip-tap their toes to the ground). During the second act, the ladies, underneath the giant full moon, reached their arms out wide to the sides and rose onto their toes, and their sparkling white tutus came close to touching, giving off an eerie image of the swan sweeping over the lake as one giant, yet beautiful, gaggle.

But Lorena Feijoo, as the evening's Odette, blew everyone out of the water (what a horrid pun! And I wrote that before I even realized the water reference). Feijoo's a lyrical and dramatic dancer, moving like melted Valrhona dark chocolate, with a deep yet delectable mystery about her.

Watching Feijoo, I didn't see just a bunch of choreography (and Helgi Tomasson's isn't much to rave about), but I did see perhaps my favorite interpretation of Odette (and later Odile) yet. She's soft, but not vulnerable. She's joyous to have fallen (quite quickly) head over heels in love. And she's honorable, protecting her fellow swans chicks from death (if Von Rothbart dies, they all die, so she stands up to Siegfried who wants to kill him!), even if it means that she remain a swan forever or perhaps even die.

Unfortunately, Luiz's Seigfried seemed bland in comparison to Feijoo. His technique and tricks are fine, but his personality didn't come close to matching her verve. Plus he had a few unexpected memory blanks and bobbles, which was surprising for a principal dancer.

Feijoo's Odile, the black swan that Von Rothbart uses to trick Siegfried later at his birthday shindig, is in many ways the opposite: ruthless, seductive, and way flashier than the genuine swan queen from 30 minutes prior. Siegfried somehow chooses the black swan bitch over other princesses his mommy invited (major shout-out to Lily Rogers as an impeccably gorgeous Spanish Princess and Danielle Santos as the springy Neapolitan Princess.) so we know he's not a mamma's boy, but he's not too smart either, as Von Rothbart was there all along as Odile's olive green feathered escort. Muahahahaha! And after some struggle, in the end, Siegfried and Odille free the swan corps and end up together, albeit in another form. Ah, happily ever after.

There were several improvements from last near, notably in the costuming for Von Rothbart (more movable tattered capes and jackets, and less haute couture outwear, hooray!) and the swan caps. Oh, those caps! Last year, the swans all had white and black pixie wigs on, but they seemed frumpy and overly gray in areas. This year, they've been redone, with better balance and coloring, and what a difference it makes! None of the dancers look like they need to see a chiropractor, and the corps now projects more swan and less Supercuts.

In addition, Jonathan Fensom's classy set design still blows me away, including the lakeside with the giant rock and full moon, and the sweeping staircases in the castle ballroom. It's just the right amount of spectacle without being gaudy or boring.

Last night's crowd was appreciative, although some of the younger (under 10) crowd seemed sleepy by the two-hour mark. Swan Lake runs a little over two and a half hours, and continues through the end of the month with a variety of casting.

Photo © Erik Tomasson