Ever since Billy Porter donned a black velvet gown to the Oscars, I expect some range from our local red carpet looks. And yes we’ve seen it in San Francisco, from Christian Squires working a self-made pale pink frock in 2020 to Benjamin Freemantle wearing sheer tulle in 2022.
But never have I seen local high society quite so fashionable, joyous, and gay as this year’s San Francisco Ballet Opening Night Gala.
The transformed, very sparkly City Hall hosted many luminaries, fancy folk and several drag queens throughout the evening on January 24, including a hard-to-miss Lady Camden. My favorite, however, was this no-pants look with heels and lace stockings, serving a very dolled-up Risky Business —
The festivities marked SF Ballet’s 91st anniversary and first season programmed by Tamara Rojo, who succeeded Helgi Tomasson as artistic director in 2023. The ballet raised $3 million this season in part from its amazing party that is — to me — almost deceptively doubling as a charitable event. Attendees put on their finest for a night of mingling, cocktails, food, and oh yes: there’s a performance for an amazing cause, too.
“Everyone’s courage, creativity, generosity and commitment to our art
form and our audiences has become a daily source of inspiration and joy,” Rojo said in between opening dance numbers.
I came this year armed with a little more knowledge of ballet, having attended two prior galas and also several shows in 2023. My favorite last year was Giselle, an unexpectedly funny piece where cheating men are danced to death by ghost ballerinas, who occasionally float across the stage on suspension cables.
This year’s preview offered even more I now must see. The obvious choice is Swan Lake, which ran with no shortage of friends telling me what a moron I was for missing it in 2022. I also enjoyed a pas de deux from Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming, a show about our journey from dreaming as children to adults, according to choreographer Justin Peck. It was the 1990s shiny holo outfits and lyrical dance moves that sold me.
A pre-show dinner allowed young patrons to mingle with high rollers, providing a casual social atmosphere with heavy bites, cushy chairs, and an open bar. I immediately spotted costume designer David Reardon making his rounds while holding a tall cocktail glass he brought from home, like we’d gone to Vegas. I mean that in the most entertaining way, David, and I wish I had such moxy.
Everyone spent so long taking selfies that event staff sternly urged us to our seats 10 minutes before the show. The upside in herding cats was fewer crowds around theater doors, making for memorable fashion moments on damp streets en route to the War Memorial Opera House.
The show wrapped in a fairly tight 90 minutes, and back again at City Hall, the ballet’s shimmery after party will be hard to top all year.
A huge throng of glitter dresses, princess gowns, penguin tuxes and jeweled bodices danced in two rooms, including the main staircase often reserved for wedding photos on a typical day. The decor in this space floors me every year I’ve seen it, but this time moreso because the after party’s affordable price point; at $175, it felt like everyone showed up to work a look and celebrate the moment.
The party theme this year is “Pandora’s Mystery,” a reference to the world premiere of Mere Mortals, which is playing for another couple days. The well-received show invites us to look inside Pandora’s jar, otherwise known as artificial intelligence in the modern era. So I expected a lot of Grecian looks at City Hall, but the predominant choice was cobalt blue-and-black dresses, and I somehow landed near the thematic homework assignment for two years running.
At this point the society set expects a big gown from me, and I am thanked many times for returning and bringing my exuberant spirit in looks. This and other encounters left me with a sense of community, one felt here at this gala more than others I attended the past year; we’re not just showing up to party, to raise money, and to give love to this renowned dance company, but also to appreciate each other, our spirit, and our own desires to perform and be seen.
In my Elder Millennial era, I almost never stay at an event more than a couple hours, but somehow I make it to closing time around 1 a.m. The strap on my glitter platform sandal finally broke, and I limp toward the exit before I really do have a Cinderella moment and lose my slipper at the ball. Out in the night air, I’m reminded I have to wait another year before this party happens again. Until then though, I’ll feel the spirit of San Francisco Ballet through its 2024 season.
Saul Sugarman is editor in chief of The Bold Italic.
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