The San Francisco Ballet has landed in a political storm. Its new program isn't helping
Isabella DeVivo, left, and Wona Park in Balanchine's "Serenade." (Lindsay Thomas)
Seventeen women in tulle stand in moonlight, right arms raised, hands flexed to the sky as Tchaikovsky's chords swell. The opening of George Balanchine's "Serenade," the centerpiece of San Francisco Ballet's latest all-Balanchine program, is so heartbreakingly beautiful that much lore now surrounds its origins.
Some, like Balanchine Trust stager Sandra Jennings, repeat the tale that the Russian choreographer borrowed the raised-arm gesture from dancers blocking their faces from the sun. Jennifer Homans, in her thoroughly authoritative 2022 Balanchine biography, offers a different story: that on the first day of rehearsals, the choreographer born Georgi Balanchivadze, newly arrived in the United States, told his fledgling ballerinas how he had survived the Russian Revolution and fled to Berlin, then "talked anxiously about Germany and the ‘awful' Hitler, much on everyone's mind in 1934, and about the HEIL salute."
San Francisco Ballet in Balanchine's "Stars and Stripes." (Lindsay Thomas)
In this story, as the dancers draw their hands regretfully towards their faces, a hateful authoritarian symbol is transformed. And although this genesis can't be perfectly corroborated, I preferred it to all other accounts as the company opened "Balanchine: Father of American Ballet" at the War Memorial Opera House on Tuesday, Jan. 10. It deepened a question that has troubled me since the Ballet announced its 2026 programming last April: Balanchine could see tyranny coming. Why couldn't the leaders of San Francisco Ballet?
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"Balanchine: Father of American Ballet": San Francisco Ballet. Through Sunday, Feb. 15. $39-$612. War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Ave. , S.F. 415-865-2000. www.sfballet.org
As it stands, the Ballet finds itself in a political storm of its own making. Well before the Trump administration began politicizing and then desecrating what the president has now dubbed it the Trump Kennedy Center, the company accepted an invitation to dance there in May. Now a movement urging cancellation is afoot, with a Change.org petition already surpassing more than 7,000 signatures as of the morning after Tuesday's program.
What to do about this mess is complicated. Perhaps the Ballet's administration is concerned about retaliation in the form of international dancers losing their visas. (That said, refusing to be complicit with authoritarianism demands bravery, which is why, despite the risks, I advocated that the Ballet cancel back in September.)
Sasha Mukhamedov and San Francisco Ballet in George Balanchine's "Stars and Stripes." (Lindsay Thomas)
Whether to program Balanchine's flag-waving "Stars and Stripes" as the closer of this program, though? That choice should have been simple. After all, last April, news of outsized deportation quotas and U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement recruitment made the government's agenda clear.
But apparently, Ballet Artistic Director Tamara Rojo, who has spoken about her father's fight against fascism in Franco's Spain, couldn't foresee the kind of terror we now see inflicted on Minneapolis - or, she thought appeasement might be a good idea. Either way, her company now has a triple bill of Balanchine ballets that ends with a disturbingly non-contextualized piece of propaganda.
To be clear, this program, which runs through Sunday, Feb. 15, is beautifully danced. That should come as no surprise as the Ballet has a deep connection with Balanchine's works dating back to 1952. It is also a biography in miniature.
Sasha De Sola and Harrison James in Balanchine's "Diamonds." (Lindsay Thomas)
"Diamonds" evokes the Imperial Russia of Balanchine's early childhood. The waltz and polonaise patterns for a courtly ensemble are serene - and, due to the repetitive nature of Tchaikovsky's third symphony, sometimes a tad dull. But there's a gem of a pas de deux at the center. On Tuesday, Sasha De Sola, an old pro in the role, danced it with ravishing self-possession, hardly seeming to need the support of her consort Harrison James, who exuded the corn-fed charm of a linebacker while delivering cleanly polished grande pirouettes.
Following this, "Serenade" takes us into the center of Balanchine's life - and not just because he made this masterpiece at age 30, as he and his indefatigable patron Lincoln Kirstein were trying to cultivate a new American style of ballet on U.S. soil. Consider the final elegy section, if you can stop crying after its conclusion. A man walks on, eyes covered and feet guided by a figure many call the "dark angel," who guides him to a vulnerable woman on the floor. He cradles her for a moment before deserting her, compelled onward by fate.
San Francisco Ballet dancers Jasmine Jimison, Joshua Jack Price and Sasha Mukhamedov in Balanchine's "Serenade." (Lindsay Thomas)
That was Balanchine's emotional template, inseparable from his creative impulses. But "Serenade" is about the women's sorority, not the man's tragedy. In this staging the ensemble breathes, as it must, as one. Wona Park was exceptional in the jumping role known as the "Russian girl." Quick, crisp and unaffectedly immersed in the music, Park is the finest Balanchine stylist in the company.
By the time he made "Stars and Stripes," in 1958, Balanchine was well established in the U.S. - and deeply grateful to have escaped the Soviet Union. Set to John Philips Sousa military marches, the zany spectacle mashes up a night at the Moulin Rouge with a Busby Berkeley extravaganza. (Balanchine choreographed a few of those in his Hollywood years.)
Katherine Barkman was a highlight as the first regiment's baton-twirling majorette; surely Balanchine himself would have delighted in her playful musicality. On the other hand, he'd likely be less pleased with Madeline Woo's hard-sell approach to the crowning Liberty Bell, with mugging that distracted from virtuoso jumps and turns.
Madeline Woo and Cavan Conley in Balanchine's "Stars and Stripes." (Lindsay Thomas)
Context cues matter: As a giant U.S. flag backdrop lowers for this ballet's finale, it's worth remembering that flag-waving in itself is not inherently disturbing, nor is keeping the engagement at the Kennedy Center necessarily a signal of collusion. New York City Ballet is also still scheduled to perform there, but the company also just premiered Alexei Ratmansky's "The Naked King," a satire of President Donald Trump's administration. Imagine "Stars and Stripes" following that.
On Tuesday, seemingly inspired by Bad Bunny's Super Bowl LX halftime show, the Ballet's dancers tried to offer some context cues of their own. Returning for bows, they held up small flags of many nations, grinning as though to say "Don't hate us!"
It was mildly heartening. It was sad. It was, one guesses, all the dancers felt they could do.
Rachel Howard is a freelance writer.
