One step beyond
Oakland Ballet's S.F. visit is a hit-and-miss affair.

By Rita Felciano

AT THE VERY least, Oakland Ballet's mixed-results debut at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts Jan. 22 proved that this stalwart East Bay institution deserves more than what it has. For the past 30 years, the Bay Area's second-largest ballet company has done wonders performing at the Paramount Theatre in Oakland, a space that is architecturally stunning but totally inadequate for dance. When the curtain went up on the luminous Sightings, by Margaret Jenkins (with Elly Klopp), you could almost hear a sigh of relief as the dancers took to Yerba Buena Center's welcoming stage like kites grabbed by the wind.

Sightings opened an evening intended as a showcase of artistic director Karen Brown's vision. Ballet, she believes, need not be tethered to its aristocratic European roots: it can absorb and be reflective of many cultures without losing its identity. The idea is intriguing and, up to a certain point, convincing. The four-program evening also confirmed that dancers respond to the quality of the work. Give them fine choreography and they'll be passionate. But if the material is mediocre, they won't look good, even if they're adequately trained. Dancers need fully formed ideas to work with; mere steps will never do. In that respect Oakland Ballet's S.F. performance was less satisfying.

Jenkins's postmodern excursion into ballet, commissioned in 1991 by former artistic director Ronn Guidi, proved to be an exhilarating trip. Sandra Woodall dressed the 13 dancers in silken, Indian-inspired flaring coats and leggings characterized by warmly glowing colors that ranged from brown to golden yellow. Sightings toyed with some of ballet's basic tenets: the elevated center of gravity, the erect torso, and the pas de deux.

The work opened with each dancer, hands folded behind their backs, commencing with a straight trajectory. Accompanied by Peter Sculthorpe's "Jabiru Dreaming," played by the Kronos Quartet, they walked forward, retreated, changed direction, and exited. The action was orderly until an invisible presence disrupted their pursuits. (In the program notes, Jenkins talks of angels who create a sense of expectation that disrupts the commonplace.) After one man (Carlos Ventura) cocked his head, other dancers noticed as well; looking up, they shook their heads in unison and then stopped in their tracks. One took gazelle-like leaps, another covered her eyes, and yet another stiffened and fell. The duets, apparently created with input from the dancers, were quirky and mysterious yet buoyed by a spirit of effervescence. Excellently danced, Sightings showcased the company at its best.

Robert Henry Johnson's muddled dive into world dance, La Femme au Puit: Thirsting, was the evening's major disappointment. The work apparently was inspired by the Bible story of Jesus's encounter with a Samaritan woman at a well. After the piece premiered two years ago, the ballet-trained choreographer reworked it during a Wattis residency at Yerba Buena Center. The changes didn't help. With La Femme, Brown did her dancers a disservice. They looked disoriented, tearing through Johnson's phrases as if unaware of where they were going. Asking ballet dancers to improvise within classical ballet, East Indian, West African, Martha Graham, and José Limón styles (as the program notes indicated) was a recipe for disaster. The work included yet more elements not mentioned in the program, including commedia dell'arte, a jumping-over-broom wedding ceremony, and a physical comedy act. Only guest artist Bernard Gaddis's lyrically eloquent solo offered relief from the relentless confusion.

Gloria Contreras's quintet Huapango succeeded intermittently. Contreras is a Mexico-based ballet choreographer whose work Brown first introduced in 2002. With her first choreographic endeavor (dating from 1958), the artist – along with composer José Pablo Moncayo – paid homage to the Huapango, an indigenous dance and song from the Veracruz region. This abstraction of folklorico is very much a young person's endeavor; the choreography was fairly bland, but it did display a sense of structure: duets, solos, and ensemble elements flowed in and out of each other. The chief appeal was Moncayo's popular score; it kept Huapango afloat.

In the choreography for his own company, Robert Moses' Kin, Robert Moses does what Brown wants to encourage in ballet: he draws on a multitude of cultural influences. His tough solo Lone Woman challenges a ballet dancer to emote, something she has traditionally been discouraged from doing. Lone is a portrait of a woman torn apart by her sexuality and the guilt associated with it. The piece moves through a storm of rage, lust, madness, pain, and confusion. Its short, staccato phrases pull one poor soul in every direction – except away from the church pew that serves both as comfort and a symbol of accusation. For Oakland Ballet's Jenna Johnson, this solo was an opportunity to stretch. Not only can Johnson dance powerfully, but she can also act.