When my daughter invited me to attend an ABT matinee performance of Swan Lake at the Met with her, I said, sure, but not because Swan Lake was on my must do list. In my world of mostly downtown contemporary dance, those “old” ballets hold as much relevance and intrigue for me as the frozen green beans mixed with cream of mushroom soup my Mom would serve at every Thanksgiving when I was a child.  It had its time years ago, but as far as I was concerned now, the present allure was limited and dated.

How wrong I was!

The opulent setting of the Metropolitan Opera House alone makes it worth a visit and I settled into my seat enjoying the pleasure of a great space. The beginning of the first act confirmed my snobbish opinions, opening with the old nugget of the convivial dance scene between gaily dressed, happy peasants and indulgent aristocrats. The tightly corseted women swirled prettily, swishing layers of pastel petticoats with every jete and pirouette. The Tchaikovsky score, as played by the Met orchestra, was lovely too. Pretty men and prettier women danced to please the pretty prince.  Ho-hum.

Fortunately, the prince too craved a bit more excitement. Tiring of the festivities, he left the party scene to enter the dark mysteries of the forest glade. Transcendence awaited.

Without retelling the story, let it be said that Irina Dvorovenko, left no doubt in my mind that she indeed was, the Swan Princess Odette. Exquisitely beautiful, her arms were otherworldly wings, her expressions of longing and fear communicating her tenuous position as a captive princess in a swan’s body.  Dvorovenko’s technical ability was flawless, she’d hit an arabesque and hold it without support, time and time again. I was as spellbound as the prince. Her grace and suppleness rivaled that of any swan I’ve ever seen. And swans don’t dance.  Flanked by her cygnettes and the corps de ballet of swans, it was an unforgettable and captivating scene.

The next thing I knew, at the conclusion on Act I, I bounded to my feet, applauding loudly and shouting “Bravo”.  Should I try the frozen green beans again?

If Irina Dvorovenko passes your way, stop everything, bow down and prepare to see a bewitching artist who epitomizes the essence of the exquisite elusive time-warped world of the ballerina.