Inspiring dance
‘Dos Mujeres’ is a triumphant celebration of Latin culture at SF Ballet
This wasn’t just a dance by a ballet company. It was a triumphant celebration of a culture that’s been underrepresented.
By Katie Sweeney
In her first season as artistic director at San Francisco Ballet, Tamara Rojo has proven she is a force to be reckoned with — a creative pushing boundaries and heralding an era of firsts. One of these firsts was observed on April 4, with the opening of Dos Mujeres, a double bill featuring a new version of Carmen, and the North American premiere of Broken Wings, a ballet about Frida Kahlo.
Carmen is the second world premiere of a Rojo-produced commission, the first being Mere Mortals, a modern AI-inspired piece that debuted in January and is just now gearing up for an encore.
Commissioning an original piece allows the company to flex its dance prowess and provides work for many other artists. Carmen is not just a new dance by British-based Cuban-born choreographer Arielle Smith. It’s also new music by Grammy-Award-winning musician Arturo O’Farrill, new costumes by sustainable fashion designer Gabriela Hearst, new sets by Tony-winner Riccardo Hernandez, and a new immersive experience at the War Memorial Opera House that transports ticket holders to a Mexican fiesta.
The entire building is decorated: Colorful papel picado banners hang from the ceiling, and large paper flowers are placed inside the theater. The installation by Casa Circulo Cultural will remain up through the show’s run, which ends on April 14. There are also giant sculptures of Kahlo and Diego Rivera and a Tree of Life with the Golden Gate Bridge perched on top by sculptor Fernando Escartiz.
Gone is the regular old boring stage curtain; in its place is a gorgeous tapestry created for the Dos Mujeres program by Oakland-based artist Maria A. Guzmán Capron in partnership with the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco. The vibrant and layered mural features an abstract, almost surreal portrait of three women melting into each other, surrounded by layers of flowers and prints. The day after Dos Mujeres debuted, the Museums announced its acquisition of the mesmerizing stage drop. It will appear in November’s upcoming exhibition, Dress Rehearsal: The Art of Theatrical Design at the Legion of Honor.
What about the dancing? It was barrier-breaking. With Carmen, Smith’s choreography was smooth and stylized, echoing the jazzy score by O’Farrill that included unique sounds from percussionists playing baton, conga, shekere, bongo, and bell.
Gender fluidity isn’t traditionally associated with ballet, where the women wear point shoes and play princesses while the men lift the women and portray kings. However, with Dos Mujeres, SF Ballet is moving beyond stereotypical gender roles. Upon returning home to her family’s restaurant in Cuba after her mother’s death, Carmen, danced by principal Sasha de Sola, falls in love with a female chef. But she brought her husband with her. A love triangle emerges between Carmen, the knife-wielding chef, Escamillo, played by Jennifer Stahl, a powerful female figure, and Joseph Walsh, the husband, whose movements mimic toxic masculinity.
Was it shocking to see de Sola and Stahl, two pretty blondes at the top of their game, kiss on stage? Perhaps, but it’s about damn time. This is San Francisco, after all, and we’re due for a good same-sex love story in the old-fashioned world of ballet.
Broken Wings — a piece created by Annabelle Lopez Ochoa for the English National Ballet in 2016 — examines Kahlo’s known journey and imagines her inner fantastical life. In the mesmerizing performance, Kahlo’s paintings come to life through dance. Elements that reflect Mexican heritage, for example, dancing skeletons, which bring to mind Dia de Los Muertos, are layered throughout.
Soloist Isabella Devivo was superb as Kahlo, a sprightly yet strong counterpoint to John-Paul Simoens’s powerful Diego; Simeon is a guest artist visiting from Oregon Ballet Theatre. Kahlo is known for her introspection, and 55 of her 143 paintings were self-portraits. This inspired Lopez Ochoa to create many different Fridas — 10 in fact — all danced by skirted male corp members. The effect was vibrant and beautiful.
When the guitar strings of the well-known Mexican folklore song “La Llorona” started to play, a quiet hush fell over the theater. The emotion in the air was so thick Escamillo’s knife could cut it. Tears came to my eyes as the dancers moved to Chavela Vargas’s famed version of the ballad.
This wasn’t just a dance by a ballet company, it was a triumphant celebration of a culture that’s been underrepresented. The crowd jumped to their feet in a standing ovation. The jubilation spilled into the lobby where an all-female Mariachi group, Mariachi Bonitas, clad in brilliant white suites, played a lively tune. It was clear that under Rojo’s leadership, San Francisco Ballet’s new and exciting era is just starting.
Katie Sweeney is a Bay Area-based freelance writer and lifelong dance lover. Follow her at @sweenkat.
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