Three Works, Three Facets: Balanchine Refracted

An evening with SF Ballet devoted to Balanchine—often called the father of American neoclassical ballet—is less a program than a prism. Three works, three temperaments, three glimpses into the architecture of his mind: Diamonds (1967), Serenade (1934), and Stars and Stripes (1958) are distinct facets of his choreographic voice—Imperial grandeur, poetic classicism, and exuberant Americana.

At SF Ballet, Balanchine unfolds in three dialects.

Diamonds—imperial and incandescent, classicism cut to brilliance. It is the final jewel of the full-length Jewels, set to Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 3. Sparkling white tutus matched with tiara and jeweled bodice; Even the men’s tops are beaded and embroidered — understated but clearly formal.

The movement carries that same imperial tone. Regal épaulement. Long, expansive phrases. Everything measured. You can feel Balanchine’s roots at the Imperial Ballet in St. Petersburg here — the grandeur of Russian classicism, refined and ceremonial. Sasha De Sola moves like a small tornado — quick, controlled but alive.

What strikes me most: the choreography does not decorate the music; It reveals its structure. Tchaikovsky’s symphony has breadth and ceremony, and Balanchine builds architecture with it. The corps forms clean geometry. The arabesques feel cut and polished, almost faceted.

Diamonds is grand, formal; It is chandelier light — brilliant, white, controlled.

Serenade—blue and breathing, a poem written in formation. Set to Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings, this was Balanchine’s first ballet created in America in 1935. It began as a school piece and became a cornerstone of American ballet.

Blue tulle skirts. Free-flowing hair. The stage feels like twilight. The dancers move as if carried by air or water — nothing sharp, everything continuous. There is no story, but there is feeling, longing without narrative. The ballet unfolds through formations — lines, circles, diagonals — constantly shifting. You see how Balanchine builds emotion through structure. The corps de ballet often moves together in precise patterns, especially in the faster sections, their footwork quick and synchronized, creating visual rhythm. Then the space opens. Solo dancers step forward with wide, diagonal port de bras, generous turns, traveling steps that sweep across the stage. The contrast between group precision and individual expansiveness gives the ballet its emotional lift.

The men largely partner and support — lifting, guiding, framing the women — rather than dominating the stage. It reflects Balanchine’s focus on the ballerina as the central voice. Jasmine Jimison, leading the central female role, spun through the space with continuous chainé turns and flowing transitions. Not dramatic, but sustained — like wind gathering and releasing. Wei Wang, in a soft grey-blue leotard, brought fluid strength to the leading male role. His extended lines and sustained balances felt like a current moving steadily forward. They approach, then separate. Connection and distance.

The music itself is lyrical and sweeping, full-bodied. Serenade feels like the glow before dusk — reflective, slightly wistful. It creates a mood. And it lingers.

Stars and Stripes – Festival and theatrical, this is Balanchine having fun, and letting the dancers have fun too. Set to marches by John Philip Sousa--fast footwork, high jumps, clean salutes-- everything sharp and musical. It is patriotic, but with a wink. The energy is light, confident, and slightly tongue-in-cheek.

The costumes do half the storytelling. Navy and burgundy bodices with an American flag detail. Tutus in hot pink, periwinkle, yellow — bright, almost candy-colored. Red and blue feathered pillbox hats. It feels like the Fourth of July met a ballet stage.

You can hear the brass in the orchestra, the drum rolls underneath, and the choreography answers it directly. The corps moves with marching precision, but always with lift. Balanchine turns a parade into classical ballet vocabulary — tight formations, quick directional changes, clean lines.

Three works; Three facets. Balanchine refracted and closed with triumph, theatrically and radiant.