Frederick Ashton’s 1952 ballet Sylvia, set to Delibes’s enchanting score, is a modern classical tour de force—an ode to strength, wit, and ethereal grace. Choreographed for Margot Fonteyn, Ashton crafted the role to showcase a heroine who is simultaneously fierce, seductive, and tender—calling to mind a classical-era Wonder Woman who wields a bow as much as a posée attitude. From the moment Sylvia and her huntress sisters stride on stage, triumphant with a slain stag, the audience senses an Amazonian confidence rooted in technical prowess. Critics highlight that Sylvia “goes on to speedily make minced meat of the pleasingly broad‑shouldered shepherd Aminta”.

It’s an image that captures her warrior spirit: quick-footed, agile, and unyielding. Dance reviewers frequently note the bold choreography: Ashton's inventive, quicksilver footwork and lyrical torso work flow alongside bold lifts—Sylvia hanging upside down from Orion's shoulder or leaping backward into Aminta’s arms—"like a crescent moon plunged down to hover". These dynamic, athletic moments underscore that Sylvia is not merely a pastoral damsel but a commanding, physical presence. Act II elevates her mythic aura. Kidnapped by the buffoonish hunter Orion, Sylvia doesn’t cower: instead, she taunts and seduces him not with tears, but with strategy and spirit—drinks him under the table, outwits him, and escapes.

Observers applaud this sequence as “weapons-grade dancing,” where power and wit fuse, embodying a heroine who refuses to be victimized. Critics emphasize that the real emotional core emerges in Act III’s grand pas de deux, where Sylvia softens yet keeps her Amazonian edge. Notes from The Guardian point to a balance of classical richness and competitive defiance in her pirouettes and leaps. The “needlepoint pizzicato” solo is celebrated as a moment of pure technical glamour fused with expressive storytelling.

Modern productions—from the Royal Ballet’s 2017 revival starring Marianela Núñez and Natalia Osipova to ABT’s competing performances—affirm that Sylvia remains a virtuoso role: it demands a ballerina who can pivot from fierce to seductive to loving, with athleticism that dazzles and a stage presence that compels. In sum, Sylvia lets its ballerinas truly feel like Wonder Women. With bows, brides, and battle cries, they blaze across the stage—commanding battles, comedic excesses, and tender vows—all in one sweeping, mythic journey through Ashton’s genius.