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.

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.