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Friday Slide Show: At The Ballet
1 February 2019
We haven't been to the ballet in years. But this Christmas a nephew who himself is a dancer gave us a couple of tickets to the San Francisco Ballet's performance of The Adventures of Don Quixote. So last Saturday off we went.
We took the streetcar and walked a few blocks up to Civic Center. The Ballet performs in the War Memorial Opera House, across from City Hall.
Waiting for the light to change so we could cross the street, we were joined by two very young girls and their mother. They were all dressed in their finest, the girls wearing new white socks with black dress shoes that had big blocky heels.
Joyce asked them if they were going to the ballet. "Yes!" the confirmed excitedly. And when the light changed, they galloped like horses across the street, anxious to see the dancers and hear the music.
We thought better of bringing our phone along because, after all, it would be off for the performance.
We thought better of bringing our phone along because, after all, it would be off for the performance. But at the last minute we decided it would be fun to text a photo of us at the Opera House to our benefactor so he could join in the fun.
We did that and then went in, flashing our bar code tickets to the gent at the door who aimed his scanner at them. A lady just beyond him handed us programs.
We lingered in the lobby a bit before finding our seats in the orchestra. We were actually close enough to see the dancers' faces.
We took a few shots of the Opera House before turning the phone off for the performance. And then we settled in, sitting next to an elderly woman and a younger man who took for her son.
They spoke Russian. Which was fitting because the San Francisco Ballet's version of Don Quixote has its roots in the 1869 Moscow production, although it has developed its own twists and turns since then.
It was a dazzling, colorful production mixing Spanish dance with ballet. We sat spellbound for over two hours.
Our Russian friend leaned forward in her seat to see. When Joyce commented on how good the ballet was, she nodded enthusiastically, "It's beautiful! Beautiful!"
We're sure the little girls who galloped down the street thought exactly the same thing.
