magic in the moonlight

Impressions from this run of Swan Lake at PNB, after seeing all nine performances, are listed in no particular order.

After seeing Swan Lake in Paris, San Francisco, and Milan, PNB’s/Kent Stowell’s Swan Lake is still my favorite version, because of the fourth act, and the corps staging in the second act. The swans, the ruins-like set, the lighting are magic, dreamlike.

All five of the Odettes in this run were exquisite, with Noelani Pantastico’s performances as standouts for me.  Tonight she was also especially dazzling as Odile, seeming to take risks in timing. (WOW, the fish dive/drop with stellar partner Seth Orza… did they plan that?… and that centrifugal force spin near the end?)  And this afternoon, Lesley Rausch was dazzling in a more controlled way… a flawless performance, with triumphant joy after thrillingly rocking the fouettés. Laura Tisserand’s beautiful lines and emotional performances, Elizabeth Murphy’s clarity and vulnerability, and Sarah Orza’s achingly beautiful arm ripples and timing choices (what a debut!) all wowed me. All five of them broke my heart at the end, especially Noelani.

All five of the Siegfrieds were very fine.  The standouts for me were Karel Cruz (as always … if not for the music, would he spin forever, and hover in the air forever?) and Dylan Wald, who made an impressive debut while still in the corps de ballet.

Regardless of the leads, the 24-swan ensemble is the real star of this ballet.

And the orchestra. And that epic score.

Beyond the swans, the czardas is my favorite group dance.  I especially enjoy watching Steven Loch dance this dance (as well as the Spanish dance) with such gusto.

In the role of Wolfgang, it’s hard for me to choose a favorite between Ezra Thomson and Kyle Davis; both steal the first act show.  Both played the character with increasing richness as the run progressed, and both made me laugh out loud today.

My favorite seats in the house for this ballet are front role left of center, because I get to see the comic relief unfold up close, have the longest possible view of Odette’s final exit, experience the flock rustling when they are running circles and serpentines, and have no one else between me and the orchestra. It’s also a convenient location to quickly exit at intermission and dash to the secret bathrooms near the lecture hall that almost no one else uses.

It was a dream to be immersed in this run.  Now it’s time to catch up on sleep and return to regular life, but hopefully carrying a bit of the magic inside me until the next time.

the swans are here

It’s swan season again in the Pacific Northwest. Once again I’m seeing all of them.  It’s what I do.

Last night’s Odette/Odile, Noelani Pantastico, was transcendent. I feel unable to articulate how beautiful and moving her performance was.

The entire production was especially magical last night.  Whatever the next six performances bring, and all the future swans, last night was a dream that I hope lingers for a very long time.

 

At long last, the swans

Friday, July 7: So after another high-speed train ride — through the southern Alps! — I made it to Milan.

Milan, more specifically seeing Alexei Ratmansky’s Swan Lake at La Scala, was the impetus for this whole trip.

Milan was the city in which I was only looking forward to La Scala, having read that it wasn’t very scenic or some such. But turns out I really liked Milan. It helped that I had splurged on a lovely terrace room in a lovely little hotel in the historic district (to be able to easily walk to and from La Scala) for the two nights spent there. And it helped that I met up with my brother and sister-in-law there, and would be going to Venice with them, so would not have to struggle with language (they have learned to speak Italian) (not that it was an issue in the touristy area). But I liked the city itself enough to want to return some day.

The highlights this visit include:

• La Scala and Il lago dei cigni, of course.
• The bella locanda, to which I sincerely hope I did not bring any unwanted guests along with me. It was too hot to really enjoy the terrace after about 10 a.m., but I have no regrets on the splurge.
• The roof of the Duomo, despite the heat, the crowd, and the scary last-flight-of-stairs-to-the-top climb.
• The Sforza Castle, where I only had time to see a handful of its many art and history museums.
• The cozy, friendly Caffe Vecchia Brera, where I enjoyed two meals on Saturday.
• Gelato. Twice!
• The public transit system.  I only rode a couple of subway lines – very easy to use – but enjoyed ogling the streetcars and trams and buses (remember, I’m a transit geek). Next time, I’ll ride them and explore some other neighborhoods.

From my seat at La Scala

Lunch at the Caffe Vecchia Brera

beer from the minibar

Lots of shared-use streets in Milano

Somewhere in Milano

A view from the Duomo

A view of the Duomo

Caffe Vecchia Brera

In the Castle Sforza

light and shadow in the locanda breakfast room

Exiting the locanda

The dome of the old fancypants shopping mall

A view of the Duomo

Locanda breakfast

La Scala

A view from the Duomo

La Scala

what brought me here

flowers on the terrace

A view from the Duomo

A view from the Duomo

Milanese street art

At the Museum of Musical Instruments in the Castle Sforza

the terrace

At long last!

Caffe Vecchia Brera post-ballet

Streetcar action

The ceiling above Michelango’s Pieta in the Castle Sforza

 

Ciao until next time, Milano!

And finally on to Venezia…

P.s., about those San Francisco swans

beacons

In my state of grumpiness over noisy audience members a few months ago, I failed to say that the San Francisco swans were wonderful (though I still prefer PNB’s version).  In particular, Sofiane Sylve as Odile was the most electrifying ballet performance I have ever experienced. She was astounding.

 

An open letter to anyone considering bringing a child to Swan Lake

Dear parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles,

If you think bringing a child younger than, say, eight years old to see Swan Lake is a good idea, please note the following:

The story is a tragedy.  It involves a creepy evil sorcerer, a cruel temptress, devastating heartbreak, and, in most productions, at least one suicide.

It is about 2 hours and 45 minutes long.  That typically includes two 20-minute intermissions during which chattering, eating, seat-kicking, and whining are welcome, but when the lights go down and the orchestra is playing, it is time to sit still and be in listen-only mode.

In many opera houses and theaters, probably including the venue where your Swan Lake is presented, eating and drinking are not allowed.  This means no slurping from sippy-cups or straws from the bottom of cups with ice, and no crunching on something from a crinkly bag.  It is not only prohibited by the venue (didn’t you see those signs by the concessions stand and at the auditorium entrance, and the message printed right there on your ticket?), it is disrespectful to the artists (hint: the violin soloist is one of the performers!) and your fellow audience members.  Those intermissions?  That is the appropriate time for your child to eat.  If they cannot possibly abstain from eating during the show, please at least have the courtesy to provide them with something they can consume quietly (how about a soft cookie or piece of bread from a package that does not crinkle?).

Your fellow audience members paid quite a bit of money to hear the live orchestra, not your child’s ongoing narrative, singing along, and definitely not their consumption of a bag of chips/popcorn/cheese curls/whatever was being consumed in row D seat 121 or thereabouts in the San Francisco War Memorial Opera House during last Sunday’s matinee of Swan Lake.

Thank you for you consideration.

Swanning around

So weekend after next I’m flying south to be with the swans.  That is, to see the San Francisco Ballet perform Swan Lake.  Four times, in three days.  (You know that about me, right?)

But the moment I may have truly crossed over into Crazy Swan Lady territory was when I booked the smallest possible season subscription with, um, the Paris Opera Ballet so that I could get an optimal ticket to see their Swan Lake in December.  In Paris.

The Swans

Collect All Nine!

This afternoon was the final matinee.  I did see them all.  All the swans, and princes, and evil sorcerers, and drunken tutors, and other assorted characters of the royal court. Nine shows.

Oh, the swans.  So incredibly otherworldly beautiful.  The assembled flock, and their tragic queen.  Every time.

Last Sunday’s show was the pinnacle of my ballet audience member experience so far.

The last three of the run were also highlights.

Carla Körbes made me cry every time she did that little fluttery thing with her foot at the end of the second act pas de deux.  And pretty much throughout her final performance on Saturday.  But I thought last Sunday’s was the best, for both her and her prince Karel Cruz,* in every possible way.  I am so fortunate to have seen her dance over the past couple of years.  My heart breaks a little more remembering that this was the last time I’ll see her in Swan Lake. (She’s retiring from PNB at the end of this season.)

(*Click here for a brief sample of the incredible Karel Cruz.)

And all three of this run’s swan queens made me cry in their final moments floating away on that glorious Tchaikovsky.

I’m sad to leave this enchanted world for a few more years, but also a bit exhausted.  That’s 27 hours of Swan Lake right there.

And broke, at least until the escrow money from the sale of my condo comes through.  Between the tickets and the house rental, Swan Lake-ation has basically cost a security deposit and first month’s rent for an apartment.  But I wanted this experience and I don’t regret it.

swan song season of my favorite swan

Carla Körbes in Pacific Northwest Ballet’s Swan Lake / photo by Angela Sterling

Yesterday I learned that my favorite ballerina is going to retire in June.  Many people in the American ballet-going community let out a collective gasp of dismay upon hearing this news.  I certainly did.

If you’ve been following along for the past year and a half or so, you may have noticed that I turned into a rabid balletomane in April 2013.  Seeing Carla Körbes dance in Swan Lake is what made that happen.  She quite literally brought tears to my eyes with the exquisitely nuanced beauty of her dancing.

How lucky I have been to have been able to see her dance several times since then (and how I wish I had seen her earlier).  She was out recovering from injury most of last season, and this season I was already planning to see her dance as much as I could, since you never know… and then this news broke, and so did my heart a bit.  I know it will break a lot on June 7, her final performance, and before that, on her last performance of PNB’s full-length Swan Lake.  But first it will break a little next weekend when I see her in this season’s opening performances.  And every time in between that I am fortunate enough to be in the audience when she graces the stage of McCaw Hall.

homebody’s guide to Swan Lake

Remember that post I did a couple months back about getting the best bang for your buck at the opera?  No?  Well, that was written before I saw the renew-your-subscription-for-the-next-(unappealing)-season brochure and decided not spend my artsy entertainment bucks and time on opera next year.

No, sirree, instead, I’m dedicating my audienceship to the ballet. One ballet, over and over again, while it is in season.  This past weekend I saw Pacific Northwest Ballet’s splendid production of Swan Lake.  And then saw it again.  And, um, have already purchased tickets for two more performances next weekend.  Swan season in Seattle is brief – two weekends every three years or so, so I decided to gorge on it while it lasts.

photo borrowed from PNB’s blog with apologies for any misappropriation

I’ve never seen the full length Swan Lake before this past Saturday, only excerpts, those famous duets (and a quartet) that get performed as part of evening dance hodgepodges, like short stories, and various bits shown in movies.  I knew the story: boy/prince meets girl/enchanted swan after being commanded by his queen mum to marry and running off to the lake with his buddies to go swan-hunting with crossbows.  Girl is only girl by moonlight; otherwise is beautiful white swan entrapped by spell of evil sorcerer who looks like an owl, with spell that can only be broken by true love.  Girl begs boy to spare swans, dances tenderly with smitten boy, while surrounded by the beautiful flock…

… until sorcerer summons her away.  The next night boy must attend a bride-finding ball thrown by the queen mum with lovely princesses and entertainment from other countries.  Boy rejects all potential brides until the evil sorcerer disguised as a nobleman shows up with his daughter, looking very much like the girl/enchanted swan, but wearing glittery black and seductively strutting her stuff, very unlike the vulnerable girlswan the boy fell in love with back at the lake.  Nevertheless, after imposter girl does 32 fouetté turns on one leg,

… and boy does a whole bunch of his own impressive pirouettes, he then proposes marriage to imposter daughter girl.   Imposter daughter and sorcerer laugh cruelly and triumphantly and boy realizes his mistake.  Boy returns to the lake and apologizes to his true love.  Too late.  Girlswan dies.*  Boy is left heartbroken.  Curtain comes down.

So anyway, I finally saw PNB’s version on Saturday afternoon.  It was stunning – the entire ensemble and orchestra and sets and costumes – but I found my bargain-awkward-view subscription seat a little frustrating, and was curious to see how other lead dancers would interpret the roles.  The cast lists get posted on the PNB website shortly before each production, so it’s possible plan accordingly.  So I decided to see it again on Sunday afternoon with a different lead cast: my favorite PNB male dancer as the prince, and a ballerina I hadn’t seen much of before who is featured in a lot of the company’s publicity shots especially for this production.  I even splurged on a pricier ticket for a better view (farther away but unobscured).

The leads on Sunday were truly astonishing – at this point my all-time favorite ballet-viewing experience ever – and the different seat made for better viewing of the entire gorgeous flock of swans, beautiful sets, and the dazzling entertainers at the ball.  My proverbial socks were knocked off.

Carla Korbes, the ballerina who literally brought tears to my eyes in her white girlswan form on Sunday afternoon, is featured in this 2009 PNB advertisement:

and also appears at the 2:29 minute mark of this:

And her prince Karel Cruz, who seemingly can spin forever and hover in the air whenever he jumps, talks about and rehearses for another ballet with the same ballerina here:

I was so moved by Sunday’s show that I went home and bought a ticket to see Carla and Karel again next Saturday. And because I also really want to see ballerina Carrie Imler’s (another one of my favorites) interpretation, I decided to splurge on Friday night as well. And just in case she and her prince knock my socks off, too (and there are any affordable tickets left), I’m keeping Sunday afternoon open.

*Girl doesn’t always die, maybe even rarely dies … I probably acquired that misconception from that creepy 2010 movie … in PNB’s production, she floats away into the misty lake.