Lisa Macuja-Elizalde wears multiple hats at her company, Ballet Manila. Just like in her younger years, she continues to show the same brazen determination—harnessing her skills in choreography, producing one ballet after another, and refining them constantly. One of her proudest achievements is her Princess Trilogy, a collection of her own versions of ballet classics. She premiered Cinderella in 2016, Snow White in 2017, and Sleeping Beauty in 2020.There is a recognizable formula to Elizalde’s trilogy: she alters the storytelling, infuses comedic elements, incorporates contemporary trends, and remains open to more commercially accessible music and spectacle. This approach, clearly evident across Cinderella, Snow White, and Sleeping Beauty, shows her conscious effort to create something for every audience segment. As someone whose taste leans toward the classical purist end of the spectrum, I admit—some of the early premieres initially left me more startled than satisfied.
Elizalde, every bit a dancer, treats her choreographic skill with the same approach: practice makes perfect. These creations have been performed constantly, with refinements evident in each restaging, and over time, I found myself growing to love these ballets. When Sleeping Beauty premiered in 2020, it was the easiest to digest among the trilogy, as there were no musical permutations or commercial insertions; what differed was mainly the approach to the story. Because of that, my appreciation for this particular premiere was greater, and I looked forward to seeing how Sleeping Beauty, Ballet Manila’s first offering of the season, was going to evolve.
Ballet Manila compresses the three-hour ballet into something more concise. Elizalde creates something of a Marvel Cinematic Universe moment—bringing her Cinderella and Snow White ballets into Sleeping Beauty like a crossover event, with this one clearly positioned as the season finale. Princess Aurora’s childhood includes her destined prince, Prince Désiré, as well as Prince Florian and Prince Charming. In this version, Maleficent is not invited because the golden plates can only accommodate the seven good fairies (the original only had six). Hurt, she curses the baby, declaring that Aurora will die from a prick of a spindle. The good fairies and the Lilac Fairy intervene so that the curse leads instead to a deep slumber.
At Aurora’s sixteenth birthday, a romance is already brewing with her prince. Unlike the classic tale, after she is pricked by the spindle, Aurora does not sleep for a hundred years; instead, she is captured by Maleficent. Later, Prince Désiré, with the help of his royal friends, rescues her.
This 2026 libretto remains faithful to its premiere, anchored in a well-brewed love story that culminates in a brave rescue. And in essence, I love that about this ballet. But I realized I really do miss one of the core elements of the Marius Petipa version—the moment where the fairies bestow their gifts. Candide offering purity and truth, Coulante–Fleur de farine offering charm and beauty, Miettes-qui-tombent offering generosity, Canary offering the gift of song, Violente offering passion, and the Lilac Fairy as protector.
There’s a sense of whimsy in that entire sequence—connecting the fairy world with the human world, and in essence, building up the princess we later see in her adult form: a combination of purity, beauty, generosity, song, and passion. In this version, the fairies are grouped into duets and trios, making their gifts feel more generic. The texture, the nuance—that layering of character—is diminished. Thankfully, because the fairies were so eloquent in their dancing, I still loved the prologue. It allowed me to move past the absence of the Happiness and Passion variations.
A first look creates first impressions—based on preference and instinct. So this second look allowed me to see the ballet better, this time for its dancing. Knowing what had been altered made me more emotionally and mentally ready to receive it on those terms.
While there were no visible changes in staging, costumes, or dramaturgy, the refinement came through in the dancing. I watched the closing show and appreciated the cleanliness of the production. Closing shows are always tricky—fatigue sets in, and there’s a temptation for complacency as the adrenaline from opening night thins. It’s worth noting that the company was coming off a full tour of Ibong Adarna in the provinces. Yet the dancers' maturity kicked in—they performed with skill and uncompromised collective artistry. It felt like opening-night energy all over again. This ballet is designed to showcase a wealth of soloists, giving even the King and Queen maximum airtime through solos and pas de deuxs. It effectively positioned Ballet Manila as a strong company.
When you deal with ballets that have been interpreted a million times over as a colorful spectacle, you have to ensure a certain emotive coloring in the execution of the characters, simply because everyone knows them so well. The burden falls even heavier on the leads. Principal dancer Shaira Comeros, who played Sleeping Beauty, seemed completely unperturbed by that burden. She entered every scene, fully embodying the role of the princess. What is distinct about Comeros is her melodic quality of movement. She doesn’t just respond to the music—she is the music, a quality that comes only with years of experience. Her tiny chinky eyes glow and react to her surroundings with natural spontaneity, making her instantly relatable.
Prince Désiré was danced by David Jos Andes, one of Ballet Manila’s recently promoted soloists. And what a leap it was for him to partner someone as seasoned as Comeros. I believe in his potential—his individual performance was commendable—but as a partner, there is much room for improvement. There was an evident nonchalance in his approach, as if he didn’t quite see Comeros as special. No romantic gazes, no smiles for the princess. With Comeros always ready and looking at him lovingly, the disconnect was clear.
Both dancers showed technique, albeit with some forgivable endings. But in ballet, the boy is always responsible for the girl, no excuses. I look forward to seeing more confidence from Andes in partnering. Comeros expertly saved herself through every partnered pirouette, every hip turn, every finger turn.
Abigail Oliveiro-Sumaylo, in the role of the Lilac Fairy, was her usual expressive self, showing off her long limbs and graceful articulation. Stephanie Santiago was evil canievel as Maleficent, convincingly feisty in technique and acting. Pia Dames played Cinderella, and Shamira Drapete played Snow White, ably partnered by their respective princes, Noah Esplana and Joshua Enciso. While I adore Dames and Drapete with a passion, I truly believe these two should never be paired together. The height difference was glaring, and the mismatch in artistry was even more striking—it simply wasn’t complementary. Dames is all expression, her tiny frame bursting with energy and emotion. Drapete, with her long, elegant lines, moves beautifully, but with a more muted, restrained approach. My unsolicited opinion? She would pair better with Andes.
Ballet Manila Project Futures Scholars Tyrone Elanga, Andrei Umali, and Paul Requiz played the young princes—and proved that no role is ever too small in the theatre. Cuteness overload! Their simple, clean execution of the steps radiated confidence, thrilling both me and the audience.
In summary, while this purist may have missed a few things that showcase Marius Petipa’s genius, everything was beautiful at the ballet. While some would say there were no changes made from its premiere, this author sees refinement in the smallest steps forward.
In the musical A Chorus Line, there’s a song that goes: “We did what we had to do, won’t forget, can’t regret, what I did for love.” Ballet Manila’s Sleeping Beauty is the result of countless hours of hard work, sweat, and tears, telling the story of a technically demanding ballet. And while its content may remain familiar, its dancing has clearly evolved—more polished, more assured. It is a living, breathing labor of love—and for a ballet lover like me, that is everything.
