SYLVIA
San Francisco Ballet. New York State Theatre, Lincoln Center; (212) 721-6500. Season ends Sunday.
FEW ballets have been as anticipated as Mark Morris’ version of “Sylvia” for Helgi Tomasson’s San Francisco Ballet.
After all, how could the inventive choreographer go wrong with Leo Delibes’ enchanting 1876 score – Tchaikovsky aside, the finest ballet music of the 19th century – and the ballet’s sweet if creaky tale of romantic love rewarded?
Unfortunately, Morris could go wrong, and did. The “Sylvia” that had its New York premiere Wednesday night proved a thumping dud.
It was, of course, well danced. The San Franciscans are a superb troupe at the top of their form – but that is the best that can be said for a production which lacks any appropriate style or authority.
Morris, a modern dance master with classic leanings, still approaches ballet like a man talking a foreign language: with a misplaced confidence, a very limited vocabulary and a totally unconvincing accent.
In “Sylvia,” he’s kept closely to the 1876 textbook scenario, but attempts at period authenticity are offered without any period style. And Morris’ repetitive choreography and the jokiness of his staging can’t be excused.
Morris’ last-act pas de deux is choreographically his best moment, especially as danced by the lovely Yuan Yuan Tan as Sylvia and an ardent Gonzalo Garcia as Aminta.
With its adroit use of a veil, it had an honest, unforced charm singularly lacking in the rest of the essentially stilted, even mechanical choreography.
Broadway designer Allen Moyer has done a shabby job with the sets. Martin Pakledinaz’s costumes are happier, if not deliriously so. But then, it was not a happy night.