To attend a performance of the 1841 ballet, Giselle, is to not simply watch a quaint, antiquated story come to life, but to experience a slice of history, a spirit and mythology of the times. In the course of classical ballet’s history, many ballets have come and gone, falling out of favor and disappearing. For a ballet to last for 182 years and still draw eager crowds is no small feat. And on Friday night at the War Memorial Opera House, the San Francisco Ballet proved that Giselle continues to be a winner.
Former artistic director Helgi Tomasson’s 1999 production, after Marius Petipa, Jules Perrot and Jean Coralli, tells a concise, relatable story of love, betrayal and forgiveness, brought to vivid life by Mikael Melbye’s scenic, costume and lighting design. Set in medieval Germany, it tells the story of Giselle, a sweet-natured village girl who’s in love with Albrecht, who is not the villager he claims to be, but a nobleman in disguise and betrothed, to boot (played by Sasha Mukhamedov, as a wickedly commanding Bathilde). Giselle dances joyously with Albrecht, ignoring her mother’s warnings about her daughter’s weak heart, as well as dismissing fellow villager Hilarion (well played by Nathanial Remez), who’s in love with her. When a jealous Hilarion discovers the truth and reveals the deception, Giselle goes mad with grief, her weak heart breaks and she dies. Sasha De Sola, in her debut as Giselle, shone in the role, meeting all the demands it required: carefree peasant girl, agonized madwoman, spectral Wili. Impressive, too, was Aaron Robison as Albrecht, duplicitous yet still appealing, charming and believable. Act 1 oozes charm and happy dancing. In the Peasant Pas de Cinq (replacing, in Tomasson’s production, the more traditional pas de deux), corps dancer Carmela Mayo danced with particularly impressive power and verve, joining Isabella DeVivo, Norika Matsuyama, Hansuke Yamamoto and Max Cauthorn in a charming variation.
The ballet’s second act, following Giselle’s death, is set in a spooky, mystical realm, precisely the kind of thing that so intrigued its 19th century audiences and made this ballet an instant classic. Here reside the Wilis, a ghostly group of maidens betrayed by love, dying before their wedding day. Summoned nightly by Myrtha, their queen, they rise from their graves and wreak vengeance against any man they see, dancing them to death. Thus is the fate of poor Hilarion, but when a grieving Albrecht approaches, bearing flowers to lay at Giselle’s grave, she tries to protect him against the wrath of the Wilis and Myrtha.
Adolph Adam’s score manages to incorporate both unearthly beauty and unspeakable pain, adding to the transcendent feeling in Act II. There’s a spiritual purity to Giselle’s movements, no surprise, as she’s dead, that on Friday night stirred me to the core. Much of the magic came, as well, from the 24-member Wili ensemble, who moved as one in their hops across the stage, back leg in arabesque, each leg identical in height to its neighbor. This is one of those places where the San Francisco Ballet really shines. Their roster of corps de ballet dancers is deep and excellent and they looked impeccably rehearsed.
Other bits I enjoyed include the fog in Act II’s opening, with an occasional Wili flying overhead in the darkened background, a shout-out to the original production, spooking the local men out foraging by night. Arresting, too, is the character of Myrtha, with her piercing gaze, in absolute command of her realm. On Friday night, Nikisha Fogo’s Myrtha was a glorious, compelling mix of steel and chiffon. She was merciless toward Robison’s Albrecht, who was forced to deliver leaps, beats, tours and an astonishing number of entrechat-six jumps, higher and higher. The night’s music was a win, too, with Martin West and the San Francisco Ballet Orchestra delivering a deeply satisfying rendition of Adam’s score (with additional music by Friedrich Burgmüller, Ludwig Minkus and Emil de Cou), enhanced by violist Yi Zhou’s sublime solo work in Act II.
One detail I particularly loved was in the ballet’s final moments, where Giselle tenderly embraces an exhausted Albrecht, who has survived the night, thanks to Giselle’s protection. De Sola brought a timeless graciousness in the tender way she used her arms, cocked her head, and gave Albrecht one final embrace, one of pure love, pure forgiveness. It was so artfully done, it brought tears to my eyes. I don’t remember feeling so affected by previous dancers’ performances at this moment. Here, then, is a Giselle, and a production, I won’t easily forget.
