So I just came from La Sylphide for the first time at SF Ballet, and I have notes. This is classic repertoire that felt like an interlude between strenuous choreography—Blake Works and Don Quixote gave the most.
At La Sylphide, we have hot men in argyle socks and matching kilts doing a Riverdance. Then we have this queen, who all at once is giving me a Macbeth witch, crossed with a pre-transformation Helena Bonham Carter as the fairy godmother in live-action Cinderella.
It's a pretty simple story with some classic tropes. Boy wants girl, but he instead falls for a fairy nymph. They run away to a magical forest where all the other fairies are women. Not a man in sight! And in that moment, they have a joyous dance. It's ballet from the 1800s, so—spoiler alert—they freaking die. Because of course.
Thinking about the fairy scenes now, they remind me of being at daycare and wanting to play in the girl group with their Barbie dolls, instead of throwing a football or something.
I haven't looked up the story yet but here's what I think happens: The witch—acted wonderfully by Nathaniel Remez—wants to get with a very hot-looking Alban Lendorf. So Nathaniel poisons a pashmina and tricks Alban into giving it to the head fairy, played by a very graceful Wona Park who leaps around in pointe shoes.
I'm told at intermission this is a story of the grass being greener for the man. You see, our friend Alban was betrothed to this lady. But if you ask me she throws quite the tantrum, lol. Like you know in Giselle, lady, you die when you find out your man is with another woman—and then it's off to the woods for you, too!
I always thought Giselle had it pretty good, anyway; she becomes a vengeful ghost who gets to dance men to death. You tell me that doesn't sound like a good time.
Back to La Sylphide: I get the sense Wona is a free spirit and Alban desperately wants to put a ring on it. So, she thinks they're having some Easter gift exchange (seriously, she's just like "why don't you have these eggs that I dyed blue in a bird's nest" 😂), and she accepts the cursed scarf that Alban got from that Good Samaritan, Nathaniel.
Her wings fall off, and then with their magical powers, the fairy cohort lifts her toward the heavens whilst she lays flat—as if she's in some ethereal open-casket funeral procession that would have had me laughing hysterically, if it wasn't all so sad.
Alban then dies of heartbreak, I guess. And then the curtain falls and that's it! The show just ends. 🤯 Did Brothers Grimm have a hand in telling this story? It's definitely giving cautionary tale. Don't reach for the stars and shun your fiancée, because you might end up killing a freaking fairy. And then immediately die alone.
It may not be obvious that I loved it. We all know that theater wants us to find an escape, and SF Ballet always delivers. La Sylphide is an ethereal gut punch wrapped in tartan.
The real story
OK I consulted le Google: The character's name is James (not just "Alban looking hot in a kilt," though that's also true). He's a Scottish farmer who wakes up on his wedding morning to find a Sylph kneeling beside him. She's been watching over him since childhood.
His fiancée is named Effy, and Madge the witch reads palms at the wedding celebration. Here, she tells Effy she'll actually marry Gurn, James's friend. The Sylph then reappears, tells James she'll die if he marries Effy, and he bolts from his own wedding to follow her into the forest.
In the forest, Madge and her coven conjure a poisoned veil (the pashmina), and she tells James it will make the Sylph human so he can finally hold her. He wraps it around her shoulders. Her wings fall off. She dies. The sister sylphs carry her body skyward, and through the trees, James sees Effy's wedding procession to Gurn. He collapses.
Historical significance
I love pointe shoes and tutus, and the premiere of this ballet in 1832 carries weight on this front. It was the first ballet where pointe work had an actual artistic purpose rather than being a party trick. Marie Taglioni, the original Sylph (and the choreographer's daughter), fortified her satin slippers with leather soles and darned the toes to create a kind of proto-pointe shoe.
The whole idea was that a fairy shouldn't look like she's touching the ground. It basically invented the aesthetic language of ballet as we know it: the white tutus, the gaslit forests, the corps de ballet as a collective of spirits. The Romantic ballet era started here and peaked with Giselle nine years later. So there was a connection—I could feel it.
I laugh a lot when writing these reviews; it's how I process. But when the Sylph's wings fell off, I stopped writing notes. I just sat there. Sometimes ballet catches you off guard not because of what happens on stage, but because of what it finds in you. I didn't know La Sylphide would find anything. It found plenty.
Saul Sugarman is editor-in-chief and owner of The Bold Italic.
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In Today's P.S.
The algorithm served me a reel from Asha Raval, AKA Asha Mode, showing off what she wore to "date night at SF Ballet" in a red corset, billowing pleated skirt, and a purse shaped like a taxi. I need to be clear: I applaud this look. I want more of this energy at the Opera House always.
And if you know me and especially at the ballet, I'm giving you the most. At La Sylphide I was advised to wear a lotta tartan. So of course I complied, happily.
But I've been at every opening for a while now, and I talk to everyone. This outfit would have been the talk of the lobby on any night in 2026. (Or 2025, for that matter. Or 2024. You get my point.) It was not the talk of the lobby. So either she slipped in and out undetected in a floor-length pleated cape, or the content is doing what content does. Either way, the fit is excellent, and I remain a journalist. Asha do you want to go to the ballet? I can get you some tickets.
That goes doubly for our subscribers—seriously.
Now for a different "sponsor"
I've been giving a lot of shout-outs to the LGBT Center Soirée, and I hope sales for that go well. That night—April 18th—I will actually be over at the Dress for Success gala. Society queen Sharon Seto is chairing it for what I understand will be the last time.
This one's a disco ball (I live for it) with a cute after party. They actually sold out the dinner! (I'm so happy for them.) But tickets for the after party are still available. Last year had a James Bond-esque casino night I loved. I don't know what's in store for this year's, but I'm sure it'll be fabulous.
I put "sponsor" in quotes because—like the LGBT Center—we inked no marketing deal. I do, however, support this party and its cause in as much spirit as I can.
