A Plague on Both You Ushers!

Sheesh... watch out all you ballet and symphony goers, there are some new sheriffs in town and they don't take none too kindly to us lowly Standing Room patrons getting in their way and interfering with their 'jobs.' They’re called ‘Ushers,’ although after our experience at the San Francisco ballet on Saturday, I think they should be called “shushers.” (Clever, that, innit?) We were alternately bustled out of aisles and rebuked for sitting on railings, all the while having to endure the verbal effrontery of these overly-officious buffoons.

Despite feeling like small children to whom it is being made evident that the wish is that we been seen and not heard, and that even the being seen part was really quite negotiable, Katrina and I managed to have a lovely time drinking in the eloquently adapted “Romeo and Juliet,” set to Prokofiev’s euphoric strains.

A tale nearly as old as dirt itself, having first appeared as far back as 2nd Century AD in the Greek romance Anthia and Abrocomas, by Ephesius, Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” is a story we should all be familiar with by now. Even in the playwright’s own time there was rampant adaptation of the tale.

Today is no different. What could be better than to do away with all that confusing verse, all that iambic pentameter and quarto form and instead deliver a performance in which the storyline is laid bare by the emotional content of each scene. Saturday’s performance did just that, and did it elegantly.

Highlights for me include the scene in which Romeo, burdened by his unrequited ‘love' for Rosaline, joins his friends in the street at night just before slipping into the Capulet’s party en Masques.

Romeo:
Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

Mercutio:
Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

And dance he does. For the next nearly three hours he and Juliet entwine and unwind themselves around each other in duets whose movements, fluidity and passion seem to flow from the same places that inspired Claudel to sculpt her “Waltz.” Perhaps similar inspiration was at work on the wardrobe designers responsible for the creation of simply stunning costumes. Period, impeccably accurate, but dance-ably so. Father Capulet’s robe in particular was remarkable.

In Act III R+J finally get to consummate their love and Romeo is so incensed by the experience that he spends a good four minutes leaping about the stage while Juliet looks on from the bed. She too has good run of her own Jeté, alternating between simply marvelous sections a pas de Bourrée. Her point work was some of the best I’ve ever seen, so delicate and precise it looked easy.

Mercutio of course has his wonderful sword fight with Tybalt, ending in his death and the light but ‘grave’ soliloquy that tolls his death.

‘tis no so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
church-door, but ‘tis enough, ‘twill serve: ask for
me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.

The swordplay is excellent and the players themselves appear caught up in the momentum that builds from this scene to the end of the play.

Even more well done is the scene in which Juliet, confronted by both of her parents, is forced to endure her father’s presentation of her chosen husband-to-be, Paris. They make her do it in her nightgown and barefoot no less. The sense of her powerlessness was visceral.

From the sets to the costumes, the music to the lighting design, the show was superbly produced and performed. The show closed today, and I was tempted to run into the city to see the show one more time and find out if the ushers on the other side of the house were any friendlier…