Tough translation to dance for classic story of monster
Certain written material just cannot be converted to dance — the California tax code and the Dead Sea Scrolls, to cite two. There were moments Friday, Feb. 17, at the War Memorial Opera House, when I was tempted to add the “Frankenstein” story to the list. The occasion was the North American premiere of Liam Scarlett’s “Frankenstein,” danced and co-commissioned by the San Francisco Ballet.
Fresh, full-evening ballets are such a rarity hereabouts that the event was cheered to the overhead chandelier, but this one, inspired by Mary Shelley’s 1818 Gothic novel, has problems that cannot be ignored in spite of the dazzling dancing and gorgeous scenic and costume design by John Macfarlane. Scarlett is not out to sensationalize, but the scenes with the laboratory-created monster fairly reek of violence and passion.
The rest of this “Frankenstein” is structured in the grand narrative manner beloved by patrons of the Royal Ballet, where the work was introduced in May. Honestly, it’s a long slog. The story is really about scientist Victor Frankenstein, his beloved Elizabeth Lavenza and the unnamed creature. And the message is: Mess with nature at your own peril.
But Scarlett takes his time with the narrative (three hours of it, with two intermissions), introducing so many peripher-
al characters that you need to consult a synopsis to figure out who they are. What works in a novel does not necessarily translate to the stage. Here we get incidents, like the hanging of governess Justine Moritz (Sasha de Sola), falsely accused of murdering young William Frankenstein (Max Berman-Rosenberg), that could easily be trimmed. An early scene in a cemetery slows the pace before it even gets going. Victor’s friend Henry is almost omnipresent, but, frankly, it doesn’t matter when a dancer like Friday’s Angelo Greco transforms every appearance into an airborne star turn.
Then, Scarlett seems to believe that almost no scene is complete without a corps ensemble of chambermaids, tavern wenches, garden partygoers or wedding guests. Assorted flashbacks and visions clutter the story. The inspiration would appear to be choreographer Kenneth Macmillan, who populated his narratives with all sorts of characters and made them all count. But, to be fair, this is Scarlett’s first fulllength ballet, and at 30 he has plenty of time to mature in the genre.
He will have to master tone with more assurance than he displays here. The scene in the brilliantly designed Ingolstadt anatomy theater is where the ballet plays like a musical comedy production number with students of both genders dancing in unison while brandishing assorted body parts. The following scene in a tavern is strictly “Student Prince” stuff, but it prefaces Victor’s animating of the corpse, which closes Act 1 in spectacular style.
Where Scarlett has triumphed is in fashioning duets of great fluidity and invention. There are three for Victor and Elizabeth, and they range from voluptuous to courtly (the wedding duet), and a climactic pairing for Victor and the creature. Scarlett has said how eager he was for San Francisco Ballet to have the piece because of dancers Joseph Walsh and Frances Chung. Both were merely marvelous Friday. From neck to instep, the Canadian ballerina created a portrait of lyric vulnerability in a manner that marks a career high. Walsh proved an ardent partner, though he might more intensely stress Victor’s obsession.
There’s nothing to fault in Vitor Luiz’s creature, who finds something compassionate in this homicidal figure, His final encounter with Victor arrives with Lowell Liebermann’s commissioned score suggesting some kind of Liebestod, which is probably not what Mary Shelley had in mind. Martin West conducted.