The San Francisco Ballet in Paris

Opening Night 

of the 

San Francisco Ballet, Paris

A Cinderella moment in Paris occurred last night; down tumbled my stiff Burberry uniform as I slipped into my little black velvet dress - a €5 steal from Rue de la Verriere. And with a newfound taste for (fleeting) opulence my date and I dropped all allegiance to the bohemian haunts of Canal St Martin for a twirl in the fairytale that a night at the ballet so often is. 

Our taxi left us at the foot of the glamorous red staircase of Theatre du Chatelet for the opening night of the San Francisco Ballet's tenth anniversary gala within Les Etes de la Danse. We were celebrating this milestone by watching 10 short works from a range of well-renowned choreographers like Alexei Ratmansky and Christopher Wheeldon led by artistic director Helgi Tomasson.

 The entrance hall was quite the spectacle; there were aristocratic ladies dripping in sapphires juxtaposed with denim-clad ballet lovers clutching standing tickets. We were ushered up to the bar behind the balcony and juggled champagne and programs. The Theatre du Chatelet is absolutely magnificent, it truly rivals the opera houses of Vienna with the opulence of the decor - even the stage curtain is a veritable masterpiece. We were so lucky to have a pair of central seats at the the front of the dress circle, which gave us panoramic views of the architecture (but made no allowances for whispering during the performance).

During the interval we wandered out onto the exterior balcony to delight in the romance of the Seine, which lay looking rather ethereal under the blanket of rain. And after a couple more tipples we were ready to descend into the second half of the performance, which we deemed to be far superior to the first. 

The array of contrasting costumes was exquisite, varying from contemporary interpretations of leather street wear to classic tutus and romantic pink florals. However, it was the simplicity of the bare chested dancer - a true Apollo - and the simple flesh leotard of his female partner in our favourite piece, which made it all the more impactful. 

Our charming new friend, the British - but New York-based - choreographer Christoper Wheeldon (above) was the creator of this deeply moving piece. His talent for choreography truly left the audience utterly entranced as we watched the pair move together in poetic harmony. There was also an underlying sense of breathless sensuality in their movements as he guided her fragile limbs like a rag doll, but lifted her like one would assemble the broken pieces of a shell. It was a perfect blend of contemporary dance and classical ballet. By the end if the piece I found myself moved to tears for so many reasons, I felt I had been swept into the depths their love affair and was not ready to let go.

 It is so rare now - as a member of generation 'instant gratification' - to have one's attention held without a moment of distraction, but I was utterly bewitched by this physical display of raw emotion. I have to admit that it was almost rather traumatic meeting the ballerina at the after party and seeing that she was in fact another chirpy young American dancer rather than the melancholy, empassioned creature that I had just watched in motion. The final piece of the show presented seemingly infinite lines of ballerinas twirling in classic white, diamond encrusted tutus and it was a feast for the eyes.

Fortunately for us the standing ovation was not the end, for we were soon to be ushered up to the elusive after party on the hidden rooftop terrace of the theatre. It was an achingly glamorous affair with waify ballerinas drifting between statuesque choreographers and well dressed supporters. My date and I wandered through batallions of dashing waiters offering indulgences like chocolate strawberries, pistachio panna cotta and cherry macaroons before finding the bar for yet more champagne. 

The rooftop balcony cast in a delicate fushia light was what made the evening so unforgettable; to been folding shirts in a stockroom hours before and now to be perched above the twinkling lights of the Seine was a fairy tale. It was also such a joy to be able to talk to all the ballerinas and hear about their magical experiences whilst touring as well as the mental and physical  challenges of their profession.

As the audience we forget the effort, the crippling physical stress they put themselves under to become these graceful creatures, which infatuate us with such ease. Whats more they were all our around our age, which made it so inspiring thinking how much they have already achieved so much in their chosen field. It was the most beautiful of evenings and so much thanks goes to Marina de Brantes (above with Bernadette Chirac), President of Les Etes de la Danse for having us! And now, to cross the bridge back to reality...