Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater

Cal Performances presents

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater

Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley

April 12th, 2026

The Bay Area spring dance season would not be complete without Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater’s annual residency at Cal Performances. And what a dramatic spring week to backdrop the company’s 2026 engagement! The weather ran the gamut from warm, sunny skies to a weekend of freezing torrential downpours. But regardless of the forecast, AAADT fans turned out in droves abuzz to see what the troupe had in store this year – four unique programs of Bay Area premieres, re-envisioned productions and of course classic masterworks. Program B, AAADT’s closing bill, paired two 2025 pieces (both which were new to local audiences) with Founder Alvin Ailey’s iconic modern composition, 1960’s Revelations.

Opening the afternoon was Maija García’s Jazz Island, a work that felt decidedly Dance Theater-esque. A moon backdrop gave a planetary celestial feel; García’s grounded and supple choreography, a Caribbean/Island quality. An array of characters imbued the space: a goddess, vendors, a mysterious (almost nefarious) man with a top hat and cane, and a community of inhabitants. An intricately crafted set of scenes flowed seamlessly keeping stops and starts at bay. Props. Costumes. Humor. West Side Story style confrontations. A strong and present narrative undertone, though not a linear story. All set to a lovely jazz score by Etienne Charles. 

These many theatrical elements worked in concert to capture a day in the life of this place and the people who call it home. Their triumphs and accomplishments. Their challenges and obstacles. Their wants, desires, experiences. I enjoyed Jazz Island, though I think I need to see it again to grasp all the moving parts. There was a lot going on at the same time. Having said that, I think the biggest take away from this first viewing is how the piece speaks to the breadth and range of this company. It felt somewhat of a departure for AAADT, which is a good thing. Keeping a dance group vital requires honoring history while simultaneously pushing forward with newness. Jazz Island was definitely a new force.

Next up was another 2025 work, Embrace by Fredrick Earl Mosley. A series of vignettes set to contemporary music, Embrace is special. Again, there wasn’t a linear narrative at play, but the work was not at all abstract. Embrace was a statement of kinship, love and inclusion. It joined moments of animosity with moments of support. There was yearning, charged romance and even a little desperation. I didn’t want to take my eyes off the stage for a single second, and I bet most of the auditorium shared that sentiment. 

Embrace also utilized a unique theatrical device throughout – a collection of modular tables and benches. In each chapter, the furniture took on a different configuration to support the movement, almost acting like additional cast members. In the first variation, the soloist used a table’s edge like a ballet barre. Then, the tables shifted and became an additional stage surface as “At Last” sang through the air. During Kate Bush’s “This Woman’s Work,” the tables became seats and backdrops, the dancers squiring them about the space. As Embrace continued, the set pieces provided pathways, level changes and wing space without being distracting. Genius.

Mosley’s choreography was also a stroke of genius – smooth, sumptuous and gooey in the best possible way. A slow promenade in attitude literally left me breathless. Lit from the side by shinbusters, a full throttle unison sequence read like a celebration of youth. Dancers communicated the notion of risk-taking with daring flying leaps. And an amazing late pirouette rotated on and on; I think it was at least five or six consecutive turns. 

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater in Ailey's Revelations
Photo Paul Kolnik

And finally, the consummate finale, Revelations. I sometimes tire of pieces that I’ve seen many, many times, but I never tire of this suite set to African American spirituals. And at this viewing, I found myself, once again, taken by the work’s stunning visual images. The flexed palms, cupped hands and kneeling attitude in “I Been ‘Buked,” followed by “Didn’t My Lord Deliver Daniel’s” deep hinges and goal-posted chaîné turns. The écarté promenade during “Fix Me, Jesus” always elicits gasps (and it did on Sunday). As Revelations reaches its middle, the captivating visuals continue to stun: the boat pose in “I Wanna Be Ready” and the army crawl in “Sinner Man” – leading to Revelations’ extraordinary conclusion. During this final chapter, “Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham,” I always close my notebook to be completely present with the performances, the choreography and the contagious joy emanating from the stage.

San Francisco Ballet - "La Sylphide"

San Francisco Ballet
La Sylphide
War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco
April 11th, 2026 (matinee)

When La Sylphide is slated for a ballet company’s upcoming season, as it was for San Francisco Ballet in 2026, my excitement is palpable. For a number of reasons. First, La Sylphide is one of those full-length works that isn’t constantly programmed. Now this isn’t a new ballet. Not by a longshot - La Sylphide premiered nearly two hundred years ago. And it has all the signature tried-and-true story ballet themes. There’s jealousy and unrequited love. Dreams, spells, intrigue and otherworldly creatures. Desire, tragedy and solitude. But because La Sylphide isn’t visited and re-visited year after year after year, it has a freshness and novelty to it (incidentally, SFB’s current artistic leadership has been doing a bang-up job bringing different narrative blood to the War Memorial stage in recent seasons). Second, La Sylphide demonstrates that full-length ballets don’t have to be three hours long. Clocking in at ninety minutes, including intermission, the two-act production conveys its story expeditiously, concisely, and shies away from any ‘extra stuff.’ And of course, there are the beautiful Scottish costumes, scenery, Herman Løvenskiold’s evocative score and August Bournonville’s singularly exceptional choreography. There was even a bagpiper greeting patrons on the steps of the Opera House as they arrived.

But for me, La Sylphide holds personal nostalgia. Dancing in my first pair of pointe shoes was a struggle to say the least. Then, during a month-long summer intensive, we learned some of La Sylphide during variations and repertory class. The corps’ Act II phrase material changed my point shoe confidence game. Those series of steps always have the power to bring a smile to my face, as they did this past Saturday afternoon. 

As the curtain rises on Act I, we encounter La Sylphide’s main characters awaiting the celebration of a wedding in the highlands: James, the groom; Effie, his betrothed; and an alluring, ethereal Sylph, who invades James’ subconscious and conscious states. Also on the scene are his friend Gürn, who appears to harbor feelings for Effie, as well as an elderly, derelict clairvoyant named Madge. The Scottish village, decked in their full tartan regalia and surrounded by stag horns, is ready to mark the festive occasion. But the Sylph commands James’ attention, while the interactions between James and Madge grow increasingly contentious and threatening. 

While no surprise, the star of Act I was the Bournonville recipe of allegro, batterie, delicacy and joyful calm. And that Bournonville style looks great on this entire company - from the soloists to the corps, the character dancers to the children from SFB’s school. As the Sylph, Nikisha Fogo was the epitome of precision, control and lightness. Her opening diagonals dazzled with cabriole, balloné and tons of fluttery boureés. Low arabesque legs reigned supreme, proving once again that impressiveness isn’t always about tricks and being flashy. It’s equally about quiet excellence and quiet elegance. Wei Wang, as James, delivered his many percussive, batterie sequences with exactness and buoyancy. And Bournonville’s use of second position demi-plié as a distinct choreographic element, as opposed to merely a transition, gave the ensemble moments much Celtic flair. 

San Francisco Ballet in Bournonville's La Sylphide
©San Francisco Ballet, Photo Lindsey Rallo

Onto Act II, which begins with a very MacBeth-style scene – Madge and a quartet of witches circling a steaming (and as revealed later, poisonous) cauldron. In this moment, Madge’s plan is hatched to convince James to capture the Sylph, which would inevitably leave him alone and bereft. Before that finality, La Sylphide sojourns to the Scottish woodlands, where an entire group of fairy-like Sylphs continue the Bournonville choreographic tradition. Intricate sissones abound as do unassuming pas de boureé. Cycling through a number of developpé devant, each foot massaged the stage’s surface like a tactile pas de cheval.  

In addition to the movement itself, there was another afternoon star that must be mentioned: Maggie Weirich as Madge. Weirich is a longtime member of SFB’s corps de ballet, but this performance was a window into their prowess as a character dancer. Wow! Their Madge was frightening, calculating and unapologetic when holding a grudge. I’m looking forward to the next time Weirich is cast in such a juicy role!

 

Book Review - "Lucky Girl"

Book Review

Lucky Girl

by Allie Tagle-Dokus

published 2025 by TinHouse

I recently reviewed a novel that employed ballet as a container for its story. Meaning that dance was indeed a narrative throughline, but at its core, the book wasn’t really ‘about’ ballet. Instead, it became the space, backdrop and world in which the tale unfolded. The result: making it a book for a much wider audience, as opposed to only dance enthusiasts. Allie Tagle-Dokus’ Lucky Girl, recently published by TinHouse, takes a similar approach, and does so with skill and aplomb. Dance is certainly an overwhelming presence from Lucky Girl’s opening pages through its final moments. But the story is about much more. It’s about relationships within the familial system as well as outside it. Achievements. Disappointments. It’s about growing up too quickly and trying to survive in bizarre circumstances. Lost connections and lost innocence. Unsafe, even criminal situations. Mistakes and mistaken trust. And guilt. It is no surprise that it has already made an appearance on ‘best of’ lists.

Like a play, movie or narrative ballet, Lucky Girl is portioned into ‘acts,’ and the story really gets going towards the end of Act I. At this point, the protagonist Lucy, gets cast in a dance reality show’s youth version. I’m not a reality show fan but felt that the author did a great job mining that genre’s manipulated drama and tenuous connection to ‘reality.’ Through a creepy and off-putting connection with one of the young adult female judges on the show, Lucy descends into the storied world of a child star. Tagle-Dokus cleverly named that judge character Bruise, foreshadowing to the reader that Lucy would be marked and wounded by this relationship.

As Lucky Girl continues, there are both expected plot points and surprise pivots in Lucy’s personal and professional trajectory. She tours with music stars. Books a series of movies and television shows. She struggles to find ease and talent in other performative art disciplines besides dance. She navigates difficult and spiky personalities. Living far from home, she must contend with a family system jolted by serious diagnoses. And as the reader rounds the mid-point of the book, it’s easy to forget that Lucy is only in her mid-teens. 

Soon thereafter, fame, bad decisions, optics, personal revelations and social media converge in a truly chaotic hailstorm. And then comes the book’s final act – its denouement – where Lucy not only begins charting her own course but also comes to terms with some deep truths from her past. 

Tagle-Dokus employed a number of intriguing structural motifs throughout the novel. First, she provided concurrent perspectives. In many parts of the book, two columns of prose are shown side by side detailing how two characters interpreted the same situation. Not only did that emphasize and highlight how different individuals may perceive the same events, but also gave the reader agency in how they chose to engage with those parts of the story. Second, script sides show up from time to time in the body of the text, mirroring Lucy’s burgeoning performing arts/media career. Last, Tagle-Dokus tells her story in short, digestible chapters, like scenes from a television show or a movie.

At just 350 pages, Lucky Girl is on the lengthier side, though at the same time, an easy read. I think it feels lengthy to me because the meat of the story gets going around seventy pages in (a tad late in the game for my taste). Having said that, Lucky Girl is both engaging and thoughtful. With summer not too far away, I bet it will become a frequent beach day companion.