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.

San Francisco Ballet - "The Blake Works"

San Francisco Ballet
The Blake Works
February 28th, 2026 (matinee)
War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco

It is hard to believe that this week we usher in the month of March, and that San Francisco Ballet is already mid-way through their 2026 season. I wasn’t able to catch the company’s first two bills but was back at the War Memorial Opera House this past weekend for Program 3 – The Blake Works. And what a program it was! Perhaps my favorite SFB event in recent memory. Choreographed by the iconic William Forsythe to a riveting score by British musician James Blake, The Blake Works enjoyed its complete SFB premiere on Friday night (the company had previously danced one of the sections a few years back). There are simply not enough superlatives to describe this piece. The entire experience was a transport to a dazzling realm. The Blake Works is pure joy of movement, marrying technical ballet vocabulary with a contemporary modality that only Forsythe could envision. I don’t often feel this way after a ballet performance; it reminded me of how I felt the first time I saw Joffrey’s incomparable Billboards.

Joseph Walsh in Forsythe's Prologue
Photo © Chris Hardy

A multi-chapter composition, comprised of a Prologue, a short film, The Barre Project and Blake Works I, the program captivated from first steps to final curtain. In simple, short black unitards, Luca Ferrò and Dylan Pierzina took the stage for Prologue’s opening postures. Quickly this first duet grew into a pas de cinq for Katherine Barkman and four men and later, a duet by Madeline Woo and Fernando Carratalá Coloma. A number of influences were present, including Balanchine. While I wouldn’t categorize Forysthe’s composition as neo-classical, many of its physical shapes brought this genre to mind. Deep lunges; pressed, flexed hands; parallel passé. There was also the use of the demi-pointe space alongside clean, strong, unfussy positions. And of course, that special connective punctuation between the choreography and score - Blake’s ambient, tonally complex music that for me, had a brilliant hint of 80s Brit Pop. In addition, the stage’s atmosphere was neo-classically deconstructed, allowing the movement and music to shine unencumbered. Simple lighting. No backdrop. Practice-like attire. For those SFB patrons who’ve been feeling (and frankly, complaining a bit) about being under-Balanchined over the past few years, go and see The Blake Works. It’s not Balanchine, nor is it trying to be, but I think you’ll be impressed! 

An interlude of sorts, the brief film that followed showed dancers placing their hands on the barre. Over and over again, they elegantly and purposely made contact with that sacred dance entity. A place of comfort. Of stability. Of remembrances. But also, of egalitarianism. Every ballet dancer of every age, every ability, every level of talent has participated in this ritual and understands its significance.  

The lights rose on The Blake Works’ next chapter, the center curtain drawn to reveal a ballet barre. Over the next twenty minutes, The Barre Project paired grounded technique with Forsythe’s unique flair. And it worked beautifully – a tethered foundation brimming with possibility. Framed by Blake’s pulsing EDM, precision reigned supreme. Simultaneously, the body inhabited so different angles and there was such freedom in the spine, hips and shoulders. Nothing was rushed or flashy. Instead, the tone abided in a deliciously unassuming place. Sasha De Sola’s textbook passé. Joshua Jack Price’s slow attitude turn, melting into a stunning arabesque. 

San Francisco Ballet in Forsythe's Blake Works I
Photo © Chris Hardy

And finally, Blake Works I. The space was bare; the huge ensemble cast clad in dreamy balayage blue. Over seven episodes, strong shapes once again imbued the unison and cannoned movement phrases. Off-centered-ness was juxtaposed against an erect spine. Elizabeth Powell, Victor Prigent and Simone Pompignoli began their variation with a picture perfect effacé. Brisés and soubresauts glided across the stage. It was sweeping, athletic, physical and so much fun. Near the end of Blake Works I, the cast broke into a dance party upstage while different soloists took turns in the center. Returning to the idea of influences, that moment felt straight out of a Jerome Robbins’ ballet. An abundance of youthful energy and a palpable sense of community kinship.  

Martha Graham Dance Company

Cal Performances presents
Martha Graham Dance Company
Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley
February 14th, 2026

Cupped hands. Airplane spins. Spirals. Contractions. What do all these movements have in common? All are tenets of Graham technique, the dance language pioneered by modern dance master Martha Graham (1894-1991). The entire Graham physical library was on full display this past weekend as her titular company returned to Cal Performances as part of their 100th anniversary celebration tour. Two different bills unfolded. There were Graham classics. And newer works from fresh choreographic voices. If you were at Zellerbach Hall on Saturday night, it was the combo of 1947’s Night Journey, 2023’s Cortege and 1936’s Chronicle that sparked awe and buzz. As Artistic Director Janet Eilber alluded, the Valentine’s Day program wasn’t going to be hearts, flowers and chocolates. Eilber was indeed correct, it wasn’t a particularly romantic two hours, but it was so powerful. An evening where shocking mythology was unraveled and the ravages of war were mined.

Blakeley White-McGuire in Night Journey
Photo Brigid Pierce

The mythological Oedipus narrative is about as tough as it gets. So rather than relaying the gory details, let’s just say there’s a horrific prophecy and an attempt to escape it, which is ultimately unsuccessful. And in Night Journey, Graham seeks to relay that tale through the lens of the Queen, Jocasta. Anne Souder as Jocasta and Lloyd Knight as Oedipus were potent and tortured as the doomed pair ensnared in a terrible prediction. Cupped hands were everywhere, which my Graham teachers explained like this. Cupped hands expose the veins of the wrist, directly connecting to one’s heart and soul, laying bare truth or evil. A description that I can still recall from decades past. 

Though the principals were phenomenal, for me, the triumph of Night Journey has always resided in the corps, the Daughters of the Night, led at this performance by Marzia Memoli. They appear and disappear throughout the ballet, cycling through untamed, severe movement sequences. But at the same time, the group displays a curiously stern regality. Do they serve as Jocasta’s memories? Do they enter the space to stop and interrupt the course of events? Are they present to judge and condemn? Or are they simply witnesses? Maybe all four.

It was terrific to see newer works planned for both Cal Performances programs, crafted by contemporary choreographers over the past few years. It is no surprise that much of the company’s performance repertory is pure Graham. But a simultaneous commitment to new commissions, new dances and new choreography is what will propel any troupe forward into their next chapter. Saturday night brought Baye & Asa’s 2023 Cortege, which was noted to be inspired by Graham’s 1967 Cortege of Eagles and “to consider groups under attack in our time.” I can’t say that I really saw the latter. Rather, the dance felt to be abiding in that same world of mythology, abstractly investigating the underworld and the voyage to it. 

A tunnel of black material unveils each of the eight performers, almost like they were traveling to Hades via ominous waterslide. Marching rhythms (score by Jack Grabow) rang through the air. And the intensely physical vocabulary, which looked great on this company, gave snapshots of the unknown, with all its trepidation, fear and aggression. But there were also moments when the cast cradled each other, tenderly providing care and comfort. As Cortege concluded, the black shroud was back covering the cast as they continued their journey. I get where things were going with the lighting design (by Yi-Chung Chen). The stage was dim and shadowy, just as one might imagine that particular sojourn to be. But at the same time, there were whole segments of the piece that were lit very lowly and a bit hard to see. It was a tad distracting. 

Leslie Andrea Williams in Chronicle
Photo Melissa Sherwood

The oldest work of the night closed the program, Graham’s Chronicle (1936), which as the notes shared, “was a response to the menace of fascism in Europe.” Broken into three chapters and danced by an all-female cast, Chronicle was weighty, compelling and (at least for this viewer) hopeful, full of all-encompassing emotion and full body physicality. Part I, titled ‘Spectre-1914,’ blends deep despair and lament in one dramatic statement. Leslie Andrea Williams embodied the solo with such raw ferocity. Her hands oscillated from splayed palms to clenched fists. Her solar plexus prayed heavenward. She crumbled to the floor. And her leg moved in slow motion, circling from second position to attitude derrière- a desperate attempt to turn to new page or open a new door. 

Chronicle’s second movement, ‘Steps in the Street,’ saw ten women entering the space, walking backwards. As their hands transitioned from shoulders and hips to flexed palms to strong fists, they bravely navigated the space behind them; a path that they couldn’t quite see but were willing to traverse together. Each woman walked with strength, purpose and resolve - a community of power and resistance. This reverse traveling recurred in Part III’s ‘Prelude to Action,’ though the tone of this final section felt different. Still incredibly strong, but also with a sense of grace. Perhaps a message that resistance needs so many different things: power, determination, courage, and also love and advocacy. And Chronicle’s finale brought yet another note to the table. As the ensemble erupted in turning attitude jetés, there was an added buoyancy, energy and forward propulsion.