Maria Kochetkova in Tomasson's On a Theme of Paganini. Photo by Erik Tomasson.
When you’re watching a great or even a superior performance of Antony Tudor’s Jardin aux lilas (also known as Lilac Garden), it’s easy to believe that this is the greatest 19-minute ballet ever made. That sensation came fitfully at the War Memorial Opera House Thursday (March 12), when the San Francisco Ballet, in a tribute to the English choreographer’s centennial, added this elegiac melodrama to its repertoire.
The company premiere of this haunting 1936 masterpiece is long overdue. In his 24 years at the helm, artistic director Helgi Tomasson has introduced the SFB community to a multitude of distinguished choreographers. With Tudor, however, we’ve had to settle for fleeting glimpses of Dark Elegies and the burlesque, Gala Performance. American Ballet Theatre used to tour Jardin regularly, and the last time we saw the work hereabouts, it was in a not negligible production by Ronn Guidi’s Oakland Ballet, which, in some aspects, captured the seething passions, infinite sadness and yearning poetry more convincingly than SFB did at this performance.
Still, there is much to admire in this production, which forms the centerpiece of Program 4 of the company’s 2009 repertory season, a mixed bill of moods and manners. Jardin was the ballet that brought Tudor to the attention of the dance world, and, even after not seeing the piece for several years, this writer was again astonished at the artistry with which Tudor unfolds his narrative. It has all the cohesion and inclusiveness of the best short story you have ever read. In less than a half hour, you learn everything you need to know about Caroline, doomed to an arranged marriage; her husband-to-be’s discarded mistress, and Caroline’s rejected young lover. Their story transpires at a moonlit Edwardian garden party, where furtive couplings and wispy flirtations predominate and no one goes away happy but the audience and the man Caroline must marry.
Tudor’s choice of music—Ernest Chausson’s brooding, late Romantic Poème for Violin and Orchestra—was inspired. Throughout most of its length, the violin solo line struggles to emerge from the orchestral matrix, which it does as the characters’ emotional states rise to the surface. Thursday, visiting conductor David LaMarche led the work knowingly with Roy Malan an adroit soloist.
Lorena Feijoo, Ruben Martin and Sofiane Sylve in Tudor's Jardin aux lilas. Photo by Erik Tomasson.
Great ballets always have a distinctive look and Jardin is no exception. In Tudor, those soft rises on demi-pointe and gliding trajectories reveal volumes about this quartet without recourse to mime. The would-be husband clasps his hand menacingly around Caroline’s and you know all you need to know. The mistress throws herself at the guy and he catches her at a perilous angle. Caroline pulls at her shoulder, the young lover enters hesitantly and retreats, and there’s a heartstopping moment when the quartet simply walks downstage in unison, their faces mirroring a world of different emotions. Meanwhile, the principals’ friends and relations swan across the stage, adding tension to these transitory assignations.
Much of this comes over in Donald Mahler’s staging of the work. The key to Tudor interpretation lies in communicating this wealth of emotional states exclusively through the body without overacting. In this choreographer’s world, the tilt of a neck, the angle of a body, speaks volumes. In the first of three casts in this run, Lorena Feijoo as Caroline has added another laurel to what is becoming a winning season. Feijoo has always traded in emotional specificity, but here she has tempered her fierce attack, permitting her eloquent back to express what words cannot. Ruben Martin’s young lover got off to a rocky start, fumbling his urgent entrances. Martin is willing and handsome, but a bit inhibited in communicating the character’s ardor and desperation, and the partnering hasn’t really jelled yet. Sofiane Sylve’s distraught mistress conveyed much of her character’s anguish. Yet sometimes, one felt her dancing in a void; more experience in the assignment will likely deepen the interpretation. Pierre-François Vilanoba does all that can be done with The Man She Must Marry. Note that two additional casts, headed by Sarah Van Patten and Tina LeBlanc, will alternate in the remaining performances through March 25. Engaging with Tudor is a landmark in any dancer’s career.
The current production, borrowed from Ballet West and designed by Paul Cazalet, suggests that Jardin aux lilas is not fated to hang around here for long. The décor is not a patch on Hugh Stephenson’s originals, reproduced more successfully by other companies. The colors of the costumes, especially for the lover and the mistress, seem a bit off, too vibrant. This is not a minor quibble: the look of Jardin aux lilas is an iconic image of 20th century ballet.
So, for that matter, are Irene Sharaff’s powder-blue unitards for Jerome Robbins’ hilarious 1956 The Concert, back in the SFB repertoire after a 15-year hiatus and the ideal remedy for recession blues. The test of any revival of this droll portrait of music lovers at their most extreme is whether Robbins’ gags seem fresh even for those of us who have seen the piece dozens of time. By that standard, Thursday’s performance, staged by Jean-Pierre Frohlich, was a stunning success.
Sarah Van Patten and Martyn Garside in RobbinsThe Concert. Photo by Erik Tomasson.
Chopin’s piano music continues to weave its spell and arouse its fantasies and it all looks just the slightest bit dated. Concertgoers shush fellow patrons, scheme to murder their mates and seduce a besotted babe. Robbins’ choice of music is inspired; in the midst of the merriment, an umbrella ensemble to the “Raindrop” Prelude offers a moment of poignancy. The gags, the bespectacled, out of step corps woman, the detached hand, the original hat that isn’t—Robbins observes them all with a sharp eye and a wealth of Broadway savvy.
This sophisticated romp is a great fit for SFB’s current roster. Hair streaming, Sarah Van Patten is divinely funny as the woman so in love with Chopin that she must embrace the Steinway. Pascal Molat hits his stride early as the cigar-chomping, uxoricidal husband. Danielle Santos devoured her corps assignment, while Erin McNulty brought a hard as nails finish to the wife. Michael McGraw’s huffy pianist exuded hauteur. Long may they all cavort.
The program opens with a reprise of Tomasson’s pleasing On a Theme of Paganini (set to the Rachmaninoff Rhapsody for Piano and Orchestra), with several members of last season’s premiere cast animating this abstraction for five principals, six demi-soloists and a dozen corps dancers. Tomasson begins almost schematically with unisons for the two ballerinas, with Vanessa Zahorian’s vivacity well contrasted with Maria Kotchekova’s porcelain beauty. Zahorian is the focal point of a trio that includes Molat and Taras Domitro (who struggled with the lifts). Kotchekova meets Davit Karapetyan for an affectionate pas de deux (set to the familiar 18th variation), with her cradled in his arms. The moment seems a bit sentimental when heard in conjunction with Rachmaninoff’s most rigorous concerted piece, dispatched eloquently by pianist Roy Bogas and music director Martin West. There’s no denying the allure of Martin Pakledinaz’s bluish-gray costuming or the lavender, twilight hues of Neil Peter Jampolis’ lighting. It looks glorious.
Program 4 of the SFB repertory season continues in alternating repertory through March 25 at 7:30 p.m. The next performance is Saturday at 2 p.m.
Tickets: 415.865.2000, www.sfballet.org
