The show took place at the theater La Scala. It was introduced by Alexander Pereira, the general manager of La Scala, and opened with a vignette illustrating the progression of the dancer. A trio of gravely serious boy ballet pupils, of staggered ages (and walking with perfect turnout), were followed by Stefano and Domenico’s great friend, the handsome star Roberto Bolle, in an emerald-studded silver costume and leafy coronet. Bolle twirled elegantly along, trailing six ballerinas in smoky gray tulle in his wake. The palely powdered models were dressed in the standard accouterments of a dance princess: pearl-studded cache chignons and winged coronets, and classic pointe shoes swathed in chiffon. Volutes of baroque embroidery, rendered bold enough to read across the footlights, undulated over fitted dresses and dramatic capes, whilst flounces of chiffon and tea-stained lace suggested Juliet’s nightgown worn for a balcony tryst. The froth and fantasy was leavened with ten sleekly fitted little black dresses with the sexy fifties widow look the design maestri have made their own, and satin-soft astrakhan cut into shapely New Look suit shapes.
“The dream is here,” said Domenico, looking around this powerfully evocative theater. “Verdi, Pavarotti, Tebaldi, Callas,” he sighed, “ this floor is full of good energy. La Scala is not just a space. For anyone who performs here and has success, it’s a passport to the world.”