Backstage or out front, Seattle's Swan Lake is gorgeous

April 13, 5:47 PMSeattle Theater ExaminerRosemary Jones

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Kaori Nakamura.  Photo copyright Angela Sterling

When Pacific Northwest Ballet first moved into McCaw Hall in 2003, they premiered a new production of Swan Lake to show off the both the beauty of their new performance space, the technical capabilities of their scene shop and costume shop, and the strength of the company dancing in it.

An actor friend attending Wednesday’s dress rehearsal called me last night and reviewed the show as “the most beautiful new thing I’ve seen on a stage this year” – a fair assessment of how little this production shows its age.

Now nearly as beloved as the company’s signature Nutcracker, Tony Award-winning scenic designer Ming Cho Lee’s enormous full moon still shines over a magical kingdom, where the wild woods mysteriously intrude into the palace festivities. Paul Tazewell’s color-drenched Russian costumes of the royal court create a vivid contrast with the white and crystal decorations of the "swans," filling Acts II and IV.

On opening night, I lucked out and received an invitation to join a sneak peak of the backstage in a tour led by a volunteer for the company.  Up close, Tazewell’s costumes lost none of their glamour. In fact, a ride in the elevator with Jordan Pacitti revealed his Act I vest is far more elegant than can be seen out front, when it is mostly hidden under a long brown coat.

Shoes do suffer serious wear and tear in this four-act story ballet.  Once of the ballerinas mentioned that the Odette/Odile role usually wears out two or three pairs of the dancer's satin slippers.

Not surprising, as the leading role calls for the dancer to dance throughout most of the final three acts (she gets to sit out the first act when the prince is partying about with his friends). And, in Act III, as the black swan Odile, she has to whip off those thirty-two traditional fouettes, that fast spinning turn that is the hallmark of this ballet and always inspires some dance nerd in the audience to count it out under their breath.

"It's the Mt. Everest of roles for a ballerina," PNB principal dancer Louise Nadeau told me in 2003. Nadeau is retiring at the end of this season, but she’s still climbing that particular mountain with grace and charm during this run of Swan Lake.

On opening night, principal dancers Kaori Nakamura and Lucien Postlewaite danced the leading roles.

Legend has it that Italian ballerina Pierina Legnani, the first Swan Queen in 1894 at the Maryinsky Theatre, could dance her fouettes, one after another, in the circumference of a ruble, her toe never leaving the same spot on the floor. I'd spot Nakamura a ruble or two as she demonstrates the same iron control over her feet throughout the ballet.

And while I know that type of skill comes from sheer talent and rigorous practice, what I’ve never been able to figure out is how Nakamura also acts all the way down to the tip of her toes. Many ballerinas can convey tenderness with the tilt of their head or the flutter of their fingers

Nakamura can convey just as much emotion with the curve of her arch or the trembling of her calves.

If you go on a night that Nakamura is dancing, watch her legs as well as the rest of her lovely interpretation.  No matter whether she’s dancing the innocent and lovelorn white swan Odette or the seductive black swan Odile, you’ll be able to catch the emotion of the moment from her flashing feet.

Postlewaite transformed his California laidback charm into a vulnerable young prince, not too happy about Queen Mom’s edict that he needs to marry and too excited to realize when the girl in swan white shows up at his engagement party all gothed up in black that he’s got a problem.

Swan Lake, of course, is more than principals, as wonderful as Jonathan Poretta always is as the jumping jester or as incredibly menacing as Olivier Wevers is in purple and black as Baron Rothbart.

Swan Lake is all about swans crisscrossing the stage in pattern after pattern, pas de trois and pas de quatre, swans to left and swans to the right, squares of swans, circling swans, swans raising a fair amount of breeze between the prince and departing Odile in the final act.

"Haven't they added a few swans this year?" asked my companion as the audience clapped and clapped during the Act II curtain call.

I don't think it's more swans, I think it's just that all the swans are dancing with tiptop precision, making those classical patterns across the stage truly pop.

Back in 2003, I watched these patterns unfold from the very top row of McCaw Hall. It looked amazing and, also amazing, Tchaikovsky’s magnificent score played by the PNB Orchestra soared all the way to the back rafters.

This time, I was in the sweetest of sweet seats, front and center in dress circle, nothing but air between me and the swans below.  Still amazing, still gorgeous.

Cheap seat or high end ticket, you will get a full evening's worth of stagecraft and entertainment at this Swan Lake.