It Takes a Team to Raise a Dancer

Perhaps the greatest challenge artists face is how to shape their career, when there is never a clear-cut path. In the development of a professional ballet dancer, most of the time there is the added obstacle of having to figure it all out at an early age. It would be like trying to graduate with a master’s degree at the age of eighteen—that’s a lot of work (understatement of the century!) and it’s a decision that requires a sensibility and maturity not always found in teenagers (those of us who are older and wiser know this to be true). While I do find that there are many adolescent dancers who are mature beyond their years, they’re still kids and that means parents have to make some decisions and provide guidance along the way. Unfortunately, the “stage parent” (a term I hate because it implies that overbearing parents are a problem exclusive to performing arts) is a stereotype closely linked to ballet, and while there are some seeds of truth, stereotypes are useless when it comes to seeing reality. Thus, my feeling is that healthy relationships between parent and dancer need to be a part of the discussion.

I became interested in the topic of the dancer/parents relationship upon learning in the Twitterverse that two people I followed separately, are in fact related. Dylan Gutierrez, a dancer with the Joffrey Ballet was trained by his mother Andrea Paris-Gutierrez, an accomplished ballet dancer in her own right (having danced with the Royal New Zealand Ballet among many other professional endeavors) and is now President and Artistic Director of Los Angeles Ballet Academy. Obviously, Andrea comes from a different perspective from other dancer parents, having been a dancer herself, but it could have easily been a double edged sword—maybe she knows too much, and it wouldn’t be the first time an impassioned stance led to irrational behavior. Having a parent who was also a dancer is like the set of ingredients needed for the perfect storm—though a storm isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just tumultuous. The end result for the Gutierrezes is a good one, with Dylan living the dream in Chicago, and judging by their interactions on Twitter, they’re close. Curious as to how they’ve gotten to where they are, I asked them if they would discuss their past and the nature of their relationship.

YDF: When did you both realize Dylan had what it takes to be a professional dancer? 

Andrea Paris Gutierrez (Photo ©Rose Eichenbaum)

Andrea: Well I knew he had a lot of passion, but because he was one of the first boys I trained I did not realize the things he could do were quite exceptional for his age. He really loved it [ballet] and after a trip away and an inspiring conversation with a certain prima ballerina, he began to talk about becoming a professional dancer. Being that I was also a professional dancer I did not find this unusual or daunting which I think some parents might. We got a lot of positive feedback whenever people saw him dance but I had no idea where it all was leading us. We took things slowly and methodically and did not rush into any offers or programs that many people wanted to scoop him up into. He rode his skateboard, played basketball and other sports like all of his friends. He didn’t leave home until he was sixteen years old and going into eleventh grade.

Dylan: When I was ten years old I decided I didn’t want to play basketball and that I wanted to pursue ballet; it interested me more as I had been inspired by Angel Corella, Patrick Bissell, my mother, and Susan Jaffe (who I heard speak at a summer program). I realized [Jaffe] felt the same way as I did when she was young; she said that she always knew she was going to make it but never said it out loud.

YDF: Andrea, how did being a dancer affect your approach in teaching him? Did you ever set boundaries for yourself and what would you say was your biggest concern during his formative years?

Andrea: Well I was very fortunate; I was trained in dance by my mother Bernice McGough at her school in New Zealand and we always had a great relationship. I modeled how I teach my children (I have a dancing daughter as well) on how she taught me. [Dylan and I] sort of compartmentalized our relationship. When we were at home I was mom, when we were at the studio I was the teacher. I can’t say there is no ballet talk at home—there is—however, I tried really hard not to play favorites at the studio or be overly hard on my own children. Ethics and impartiality are important for my children and for everyone else. Many people at the studio did not know that Dylan and Veronica are my children. I think that treating everyone fairly is important and then if my children did get a special role they knew they earned it like everyone else.

YDF: What was it like to transition from working together as a team for so long, to sending him off to The Royal Ballet School? Dylan, what was it like to train there under new teachers and different circumstances?

Andrea: I knew when Dylan was offered a scholarship to Royal Ballet School it was an amazing opportunity and a chance of a lifetime. I was confident that the training was the best in the world and when we visited the school in the summer I was given plenty of information on how the school ran and what was expected. Once he got there, it was hands off for me…I know that teachers and directors do their best work when they are given the freedom to do so. I never spoke to any teachers or the director until I came to visit at the end of the first year when I had a short conference. I did all the support from behind the scenes. I let them do their job and just supported and encouraged Dylan through the tough times and the good times. I did work with him when he came home on breaks but the school supported that. But I was happy to have them work with him their way, and I was thrilled with the training and support he received at the Royal Ballet School.

Dylan Gutierrez (Photo ©Sami Drasin Photography)

Dylan: I had [already] learned how to work with other teachers and was comfortable with that, but The Royal Ballet School is a whole other beast. They have the luxury of expecting greatness, not good or okay, and I was no longer in the position of being one of two boys everyone thought was good.  I had to prove myself, and thanks to my mother and my father (who is also a huge support to me) I understood that. I didn’t expect anything, and I wasn’t given much at first. They were actually a little weary of me early in the school year; they thought I was a troublemaker, that I had to shape up, be willing to be tamed and pay attention. I started out a troublemaker and about six months into the year I was going on special trips with two of the best boys in the class. One of whom was Vadim Muntagirov, which I am sure if you know that name you know what kind of talent I was holding my own with. 

YDF: Obviously, Andrea, you’ve passed down a lot of your schooling to your son but do you see qualities you had as a dancer in him, or is he his own entity? Has he seen any of your performances and if so, what did he think?

Andrea: When I was dancing we did not tape everything like we do now. I have some pictures but not much tape of myself. Also professional productions are not taped although I have a few things. We are similar in many ways…both tall—but fast movers. I used to love fast allegro and quick footwork. I was a turner and jumper and he is too. I was also very competitive and still am—I love the struggle to be the best and I think he does too. I always used to watch and wonder at dancers who wished their careers away or worse yet complained their careers away. All of sudden its over and you did not enjoy the experience. I try to instill in him to appreciate the gift of dance and enjoy the experience. It goes by fast so make sure that you LOVE every experience you have. Dylan always compliments my demonstrations or my classes. We have mutual admiration of each other. It’s fun.

YDF: Are there ever any “I told you so” moments now between the two of you?

Andrea: Oh yes many, haha. When he was younger he would often “try” things for the first time on stage. I would beg him not to. If you were to tell him for example, that the director of the Nutcracker would be upset with him if he fell on his pirouette by trying to do too many, he would go for the extra one or two or three anyway—it would make me so nervous. He also did a double sissone for the first time on stage and as he ran by the wings he said “how did you like that mom!” as I almost collapsed! He was a daredevil.

Dylan: DEFINITELY! Example one: My mother always told me to think about quality not quantity and at the time I was so obsessed with pirouettes I didn’t care about much else. One day I was doing a Nutcracker where the guests were Maxim Beloserkovsky and Irina Dvorevenko and I went up to Maxim and I asked “How many pirouettes can you do?” and he answered “It is not about the QUANTITY it is about QUALITY” and my mom looked at me [with that look of] “I told you so.”

Example two: I had auditioned for Houston Ballet, ABT,  Staatsballet , Dutch National, and I had NO OFFERS. I had one more audition to do and it was San Francisco Ballet…after company class Helgi Tomasson said “well I will contact you tomorrow and let you know if we have a spot.” When I came out my mom was really worried saying “You have to audition with smaller companies, you have too” and being young and stupid I said “NO—I want this.” She [kept] saying things like I don’t think he’s going to give you a contract and I just said “wait until tomorrow.” She had a lot of doubts and was really worried. The next day around noon the phone rand and it was Helgi offering me the job, and I thought: “Mom, told you so.”

YDF: Andrea, Dylan spent a year with San Francisco Ballet and now he’s been with the Joffrey since 2009, both two of the top companies in the U.S. Have you been able to attend most of his performances? What’s it like to be a teacher/mother/audience member? It’s still early in his professional career, but is there a performance that stands out to you?

Andrea: That’s a loaded question! In the first performance he danced with SF Ballet, he danced the first Temperament in George Balanchine’s The Four Temperaments. I had an ominous feeling. I worried that it was too much responsibility for an eighteen-year-old apprentice and that he would look too young next to the very experienced SFB soloists and principals. It was a good performance but I felt that he needed to be developed more slowly and methodically. I feel that [this] has happened for him at Joffrey Ballet. Ashley Wheater seems to know what to put him in and when is the right time. The Joffrey also seems to prepare him very thoroughly. I was so thrilled to see him dance with Jaime Hickey in Stravinsky Violin Concerto and the pas de deux chosen for them suited them and they handled the material very well, but honestly the moment I saw him step out on stage in Gerald Arpino’s Nutcracker as the Snow King I was [even more] thrilled. He looked so mature and confident and matched with Christine Rocas so magically that I honestly could not believe it was him. I don’t get nervous anymore because it is out of my hands now and I know he is prepared. I sit back, enjoy it and think how fantastic he is. It’s really such a pleasure to see my students and my own son in the professional environment. I absolutely love it.

YDF: Dylan, does having your mom in the audience add additional pressure, nerves, or excitement for you?

Dylan: It used to make me really nervous when I was still a student; my mother seriously knows a lot and she is not afraid to tell me when I look bad—professional, Royal Ballet School student—she doesn’t care. It’s her job to let me know and she does, but once I went pro I [began] working properly and she seems to be ecstatic every time she sees me dance now. I do always get a little nervous because she is my teacher and mother and I want her to be proud—she’s my teammate.

Dylan the "Daredevil" (Photo ©Sami Drasin Photography)

YDF: Okay, so…because I’m an Ashton junkie, I have to ask—how was it to dance in his Cinderella? Besides that, what have been your favorite roles/performances so far?

Dylan: Oh I love his version—it’s so classy and glamorous and tells the story extremely well. This is also special for me—it was like my first soloist, first cast role. I was one of the prince’s friends the “Summer Cavalier” and it was so challenging. It takes so much technique to execute that men’s dance and it’s really exciting. Also, my little sister Veronica was an extra in the ballet when we did it in LA so that was fun because we get along so well and she got to meet the company. Other then that I have two favorite performances and one is when I danced the Aria II pas de deux in Balanchine’s Stravinsky Violin Concerto with Jaime Hickey. This was my first principal role that I had ever danced professionally and it was so liberating and freeing to be onstage by myself and just go at it with that intricate choreography. I used all the space I could, I focused and my mind was right. Our pas de deux went well for both shows and I feel like we really understood it. My MOST favorite performance to date was when I danced the Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux at The Joffrey Ballet’s Spring Gala. The man who was supposed to do it (who is also my friend) hurt himself unfortunately and that was not fun to hear about but getting to step up was a great challenge and triumph. I had about four hours of rehearsal total and I had no choice but to go out, relax and just dance it. After the pas de deux, doing my solo [alone on stage] was incredible—it was some of the most fun I have ever had dancing and those two roles will always have a special place in my heart. 

Andrea: May I mention Steve, that as student at the New Zealand School of Dance we did Cinderella for our end of the year performance and I danced the role of the Fairy Godmother so seeing the Joffrey dance this version of the ballet bought a lot of memories for me too. 

YDF: Finally Andrea, what did you take away from the experience of simultaneously raising and training Dylan, and are those experiences helping in teaching your other children now?

Andrea: Well the road to becoming a professional dancer is long, tedious, complicated, and thrilling and traveling that road as a dancer myself and then with Dylan as his teacher and mother, I feel that I am able to see and understand many facets of the process. I think that helps me to guide and mentor my students and to be able to see what their parents are dealing with as well as the dancers. I feel I have a unique and special view of the process and am in the fortunate position to help young dancers and their parents navigate their way through. All situations are different though and as a teacher you learn something new with every dancer. My daughter has aspirations of being on Broadway so now I am learning all about that process and path. It’s quite different and equally as interesting. I’m glad I get to go on this journey with my son. He always asks for my perspective, he always shares things with me, and I’m always so happy when he arranges for me to watch a class or rehearsal. I love to have a special peek at the process and the Joffrey Ballet is always so warm and welcoming when I go to Chicago to visit. I’m already planning my trip(s) for this season. I cannot wait. 

Ballet parents need to remember that the motivation needs to come from the dancer. The parents’ job is to facilitate and support the dancer and the teacher. It’s very hard for a young dancer to travel this road alone—they need a back up who can remain calm in the difficult times. However, my advice is to make sure you take the time to sit back and appreciate the privilege of being in the profession and enjoy the process as much as the product.

* * * * *
Well friends, I hope you’ve enjoyed interview as much as I have and if you ever hear anyone making some wisecrack about stage parents in ballet, I encourage you to kindly point them to this article! Even if it’s common sense to us, the world needs to know that stereotypes represent certain extremes (as they always do) and that the healthy, happy people are never discussed as much in comparison.

If you’re interested in learning more about Andrea and Dylan Gutierrez or have any questions you’d like to ask them, follow them on Twitter! Dylan says a lot of things like “swaggin” and “balcony life,” the meaning of which elude me (best explained by a generational or coolness gap I suppose), but he’s a good kid. Also be sure to check out Dylan’s Facebook page, for a bunch of awesome photos and his YouTube channel for videos of him dancing. For more information about Andrea’s work as a teacher and artistic director of LA Ballet, please visit their website at www.laballet.com

Follow Dylan Gutierrez on Twitter @DylanthaVillain
Follow Andrea Gutierrez on Twitter @drummamamma

No Download Queue for DonQ

Having media “on demand” is all the rage these days, isn’t it? While I’m still nostalgic for the bygone era of going to the local Blockbuster with your two best friends and spending over an hour just trying to pick a movie to rent because the three of you can’t unanimously agree on anything (or one of them cheated by seeing the movie beforehand), I must concede that this time honored tradition is defunct. I’m not necessarily complaining though, because the convenience is quite worth it, and the borrowing experience with its serendipitous treasures and impossibly bad finds is easily replaced by using libraries anyway. Even paying my overdue fees fulfills a certain sense of sentimentality—though I like to call them “accumulating donations,” because when you really think about it, giving the library that money means you’re receiving due date extensions as “donor benefits.”

A video-on-demand source like Amazon’s Instant Video doesn’t offer such a courtesy, but it is a great resource nonetheless, and several ballets have already been made available. One of the newest is Alexei Ratmansky’s version of Don Quichot, performed by the Dutch National Ballet and filmed just in September of 2010. Now, if you have a Twitter and Amazon account, this is the part where you check out this link here, where a simple Tweet will earn you a $5 credit towards an online video rental! It’s totally legitimate and I myself did it in order to watch Don Quichot for free! I repeat—this is not a scam, but you must hurry because it does expire July 19^th (11:59 PM, PST). Unfortunately, it’s likely this promotion isn’t available to overseas viewers, but you never know when similar deals will pop up. As an added bonus, after paying the $3.99 to rent Don Quichot for three days, you’ll even have $1.01 leftover to use towards something else!

While it’s no secret I’m not a fan of DonQ (I reviewed the old ABT production with Cynthia Harvey and Baryshnikov here ages ago, and since then have had no love for the Don), I did want to see Ratmansky’s staging because I enjoy his work, I adore the Dutch National Ballet, and Pacific Northwest Ballet will be doing the American premiere of his choreography next season. Unfortunately, not even Ratmansky could make me change my mind completely, though not for a lack of trying. In fact, I think this is an excellent DonQ, as Ratmansky has created a vibrant, tasteful production that breathes life into all characters, and makes one of the most illogical stories in all of ballet almost semi-tolerable. It’s weird because you would think I would have no problem with a comedic ballet and I have certainly have no qualms with the idea of it (hello, Ashton junkie here!) but there’s a disconnect in DonQ that I can’t seem to overcome. While I enjoy the technical fireworks at every turn, I think what’s missing for me is that the comedy really isn’t told through the steps (which is exactly where Ashton excelled). The comedy is grounded in the mime, and although Peter de Jong (Don Quichot) and Karel de Rooij (Sancho Panza) are outstanding actors (really, some of the best I’ve seen in ballet), my sanity needs just one thread of relevance to tie it all together, which is never given. Even Ratmansky admits that the story makes no sense and is really just to be taken as an evening of entertainment, but when you think as much as I do, there’s only so much aimless fun you can tolerate before asking questions like “why should I care about these characters interacting in a series of unrelated events?”

An interview with Alexei Ratmansky about the story of Don Quichot:

 

 

If anything, one should care when the principal roles of Kitri and Basilio are danced by Anna Tsygankova and Matthew Golding, who share a wonderful chemistry together. I’ve praised Tsygankova before for her performance in Giselle, and she is a beacon of charisma in the role of Kitri as well. I find myself loving her even more now that I’ve seen her versatility as an artist, because I think Kitri is often relegated to a rather shallow portrayal of a youthful girl with a huge grin splashed upon her face, but Tsygankova has such a full presence on stage she weaves an aura of maturity with mischief into the character. Her technique is of course marvelous; there were moments in the first act right before Basilio’s entrance where she lingered in these balances in attitude, just a hair longer than most dancers can manage, putting on a show of her dexterity but in the most refined way. Her movements are always so clear, her facial expressions so perfect, and she has an uncanny ability to find these fifth positions on pointe that don’t move at all, and it makes an enormous difference in the way she’s able to shape the phrases because there’s no little shifts of the feet or rolling off the box a bit. Though Tsygankova may not have the highest extensions, the springiest jumps, or the most difficult bravura steps in her arsenal (though fouettés into double pirouettes while opening and closing a fan are no insignificant feat!), she is just so damn well rounded that when I watch her I really think to myself “this…is ballet.”

Matthew Golding is a new face for me (unless he’s hidden somewhere in Giselle) and it’s a face that bears a remarkable resemblance to Brad Pitt—though Golding is better looking, and more talented in my humble opinion (I’m guessing taller too). True to the aesthetic and artistic values of the Dutch National Ballet, Golding has sublime technique, a beautiful line with enviable feet, and a genteel charm that suits him as Basilio. Though he is an expressive performer, it surely isn’t all an act for him because apparently he’s valorous in life too—when Roberto Bolle cancelled guest appearances in the Tokyo Ballet’s production of Swan Lake due to the ongoing nuclear crisis as a result of the disastrous tsunami that hit the Tohoku region, Golding stepped in to give the Japanese people inspirational performance art in dark times. What a guy! Can’t say chivalry is dead with the likes of Golding around (and while I’m not judging Bolle, I might be raising an eyebrow…this isn’t the first and surely won’t be the last time he cancels a performance for personal reasons). Golding’s Basilio channels some of his lionhearted quality, and is virtually impossible not to love because he’s so genuine and unpresumptuous. A virtuoso and a gracious partner, the beastly one-armed lifts he does in the first act are beyond impressive. I know masculinity need not be defined purely in terms of brute strength, but all credit to him and the hours spent in the gym!
A nice interview with Tsygankova and Golding:

 

There’s a lot to love about this DonQ, including a fun moment where Don Quichot sees his vision of Dulcinea for the first time in a window, which I thought was like a little nod to La Sylphide, and while other characters like Espada, Mercedes, etc. have no legitimate relevance to the story, I enjoyed each dancer’s performance, from the soloists to the corps. The only thing I outright disliked was Cupid’s wig, which just looked too much like it was plucked out of a 70’s sitcom. Overall, I feel comfortable recommending Don Quichot to others because I really do think it’s a good one (even if I still dislike the libretto and the score), and I can enjoy watching it even if I’ll never love it, so don’t let my sourness deter you from watching what is in fact a fun ballet. Ratmansky certainly had a clear vision of what he wanted and really just succeeded in making DonQ exactly what it is and needs to be.

An Open Letter to Famous Dancers

Dear Ballerinas and Danseurs,

We, your fans adore you, but sometimes the extent of our appreciation is left unexpressed for fears that you will think we’re any combination of deranged, creepy, or stalkerish. Some balletomanes aren’t hindered by such apprehension, and will happily approach you and speak as they will, but there’s a pattern of shyness for a good number of us. In particular, for the students of ballet, whether young or old, aspiring professional or recreational, perhaps the way class itself encourages the art of subtlety and a reserved demeanor ingrains a sense of modesty into us that tells us losing our marbles in your presence would be in poor taste. Or maybe we’re embarrassed because there may be a slight crush mixed in with genuine admiration of your talent (emphasis on the “slight”). Common sense tells us that while we venerate you like demi-gods, we have to remind ourselves that you’re normal people too, and normal people generally don’t engage in inconvenient conversations with strangers—especially when we already know your names and you don’t know ours. Awkward!

I myself am guilty of walking past my favorite PNB dancers on several occasions, wanting to tell them how much I’ve enjoyed their performances, but I always hold back. Now, too much time has passed and I’m screwed if I say something because what if they recognize my face from passing through the halls of PNB’s studios? Then I’ll look and feel stupid for not having said anything before, and once you speak to a dancer, what do you say when you see them around in the future? Have you established a rapport in which you’re casual acquaintances that can say hello to each other, or is gushing praise a one-time deal? Personal turmoil aside, I do think the Internet has made us braver, and the virtual distance has alleviated a bit of the anxiety in coming forward. I find myself able to pass along a comment to some of you dancers now, though most, if not all the ones I’ve chatted with are dancers I’ve never seen perform live. Still, I recall Bennet Gartside, soloist with the Royal Ballet saying that leaving from a performance and seeing nobody at the stage door is disappointing. Ironic, isn’t it? You may want to meet us, we may want to meet you, and encounters only happen a fraction of the times they can.

It seems our cowardice has led us to develop several disorders—I mean, “techniques”—in avoiding the issue of in-person dancer/fan interaction, allowing us to comfortably believe our behavior is concurrent with sanity. While I find our tactics deliciously clever, if you’re disheartened when we’re no-shows, then our actions are detrimental to the greater good. Even if you’re lucky enough to enjoy the superstar treatment after every performance, we skittish creatures are contributing to a misconception where you may think you have less fans than you actually do. For your information, I’ve decided to categorize the disorders into certain types, though it is likely you will find that the fans who furtively skulk in the shadows will be described by more than one (furthermore, this is not to be taken as an exhaustive list):

• Guerilla Gifter – Sends gifts/flowers backstage to your dressing room, but will never seek you out in person
• Eternally Ensconced – Too busy hiding from you at all costs to even think about saying something
• Terribly Timid – Does not actively hide, but is simply too shy to come near and is afraid of coming across as crazy
• Flustered Fluctuator– Makes several efforts to approach you, but chickens out each time, and indecisiveness leads to many missed opportunities
• Ridiculously Reticent – Succeeds in the approach, but is completely dumbstruck and rendered speechless
• Superfluous Spiller – Also succeeds in the approach and is able to speak, but babbles uncontrollably and never communicates what they intended to
• Oblivious Observer – Pretends not to notice when you’re nearby, but is actually dying on the inside
• Distant Devotee – Maintains composure and settles for a self-induced restraining order, close enough to see but never within range* to speak

*Actual distance may vary by individual. Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear.

To take myself as an example, I used to be an E, changed to a T, then developed into a mix of O/D, and when I met Alexei Ratmansky, showed symptoms of an R. While I cannot offer any solutions for treatment (because I don’t know any), it’s not all doom and gloom because sometimes we overcome, like the story of my friend Lorry, who recently met her idol (and not so secret love) in Tokyo, the one and only Manuel Legris.

My name is Lorry and I am a fan of Manuel Legris, well, a devoted fan, maybe a follower…really, very much an admirer. It’s possible that I am sort of obsessed, wait…that sounds creepy…I’m not really a stalker—in the legal sense. Don’t you have to be caught to actually earn that title? I flew from Los Angeles, California, USA to Tokyo, Japan just to see him dance but that’s not crazy or anything. Being in a tin can for over 12 hours, going through customs, trying to figure out yen, and driving on the wrong side of the road in order to see a ballet dancer sort of inspires an amount of courage. After all that, NOT standing at the stage door seems to be crazier than standing there with pen and program in hand.

Other people are doing it too so how crazy can I look?! I just wanted to see him dance, and then I just wanted to see him up closer, and then I just wanted to have an autograph, and it was worth it. I have post-ballet glow that is brighter than the lights of Tokyo and let me tell you, these people like flashy lights a lot! I’m not going to be lurking around every stage door from now on but given the opportunity to stand restraining order proximity to someone who makes me die inside (and there actually aren’t that many people who fall into that category) I might actually go there again!

-Lorry, a former TOE

So you see dancers, there are success stories to give the rest of us meeker ones motivation, and hopefully you will see more and more adoring fans reminding you how amazing you are. With that in mind, it would also be most helpful if you can remember that some of us are easily spooked. Perhaps you can use your keen powers of observation to take note of the wide-eyed, quivering fan in the distance, paralyzed with fear and work your way through the crowd towards them (though sudden movements are discouraged, as it may cause us to flee).

For balletomanes that may be reading this, solemnly nodding your head in agreement, you may find it therapeutic to post a comment with an acronym of your self-diagnosis. Remember, realization of the problem is the first step towards a cure. Who knows, maybe your favorite dancers will read this and come to understand you better and we can all just learn to cope together.

Sincerely,

Steve, a DOTER

P.S. Please be sure to check out Lorry’s blog at bead109.wordpress.com to see photos from her adventure in Japan and to read more about her rendezvous with Manuel Legris!

2011: Giselle’s Space Odyssey

Yesterday, like many around the country, I watched the 3-D broadcast of the Mariinsky’s production of Giselle, with Natalia Osipova in the title role and Leonid Sarafanov as Count Albrecht. First of all, it was quite an ordeal to get to this theater in a city forty minutes outside of Seattle, and thanks to faulty directions from Google maps, my friend (and fellow dance writer for SeattleDances) Mariko and I somehow wound up in a residential area. Luckily, I have no shame in asking for directions and we eventually found the theater, though we were twenty minutes late and missed some key moments, so I haven’t anything to say in regards to Giselle and Albrecht’s first meeting or the peasant pas de deux. To be honest, at some point during our tardy approach, I thought that if we could at least get there in time for Act II it would be worth it, since for me, that’s the bread and butter of any Giselle. In the end, I was grateful to even make it in time for Giselle’s Act I variation, and of course the ubiquitous mad scene.

Watching a ballet in 3-D on a movie screen proved to be an odd experience though. It’s a brave new world without an established etiquette, and made me wonder what appropriate behavior would be for things like eating during the film. Snacks are perfectly acceptable in movies, but never for a live ballet performance, so where does this middle ground fit into the picture? At first I was a little annoyed with noshing noises, a similarly visceral reaction not unlike the one the Londoners who saw the Royal Ballet perform Romeo and Juliet at the massive O2 coliseum had, but I suppose it’s fair, considering the facts that it is a movie theater and a film, instead of a live performance (and let’s be frank, I’d be lying if I said I never feast on fruit and cookies while watching ballet at home). So if we qualify this as a viewing of a filmed performance, what about applause? I don’t applaud in private, but a movie theater is a more special, public occasion. Then again…does applause mean anything if dancers don’t hear it? If there’s no live connection between performer and audience, what exactly does a show of appreciation accomplish? This was particularly awkward for me as my mind raced to find an answer and never did. Regardless, to munch or not to munch, to clap or not to clap, choosing your own adventure as far as those two questions are concerned isn’t nearly as bad as filing your nails during the Act II Introduction et scene (yes, the woman behind us actually did this).

I also think there were some technical issues with filming in 3-D as well, like how images can seem to flicker at times, particularly images further in the background, and I found my eyes had a difficult time tracking them sometimes and despite 3-dimensionality, I sometimes felt like I was looking at layered cardboard cutouts. Tracking the action proved to be difficult at times, as poor Myrtha’s feet were cut off for much of her solo, and of course ballet relies on the feet to be expressive so this is problematic. There were also times where the angles with the 3-D filming weren’t particularly creative, but it’s important to remember that this is still new technology, far from perfect, and just trying something new (especially for ballet!) is a considerable, conscious effort to do things differently.  Overall, I had a pretty good time—not my most memorable experience in watching Giselle, and I didn’t leave the theater feeling strongly one way or the other in favor of more ballet in 3-D, but it was worth the try.

The Mariinsky’s production itself is a little bland, neither here nor there, and surprisingly, made me re-evaluate PNB’s production favorably. The pantomime in PNB’s staging is much more conversant, whereas the Mariinsky had less mime, but stretched it to fill more music, so in retrospect, it felt even longer than PNB’s mime sequences…like, painfully long (however, I remain steadfast in my assessment of Act II—a pure ballet blanc is better suited to my tastes). The overall tempi was also slower than I would have liked, which is quite a Russian thing to do, and I felt hindered Osipova a bit, who is famous for her jump, and not necessarily her adage work.  Many critics, especially in Russia, feel that she is not classical enough and while I did see her struggle at times to fill the music with her arms, I sometimes find this criticism of Osipova weird. She’s not the most lyrical dancer to have been born of Russian training, but she’s still quite good (even if that first rond de jambe en l’air in the grand adage, with the hiked up hip always bothers me—Svetlana Zakharova is the worst offender if you need to see what I mean).

At any rate, I thought she was surprisingly brilliant in the mad scene, a thoroughly invested actress who really gave breadth to each stage of madness she went through. I really enjoy watching her in Act II, if anything for her lofty jumps that give new meaning to that ghostly illusion of weightlessness (especially when she does her entrechat quatre series, Mariko said it looked like she was on a trampoline). Her transformation into a Wili makes me laugh a little, because the turning hops (or sautillé) or just about the fastest I’ve ever seen, and the following series of jumps is just about the slowest (slowing down the tempo for jumps is often expected of the men, so the fact that it is also done for her is kind of feminist awesome). The contrast in speeds is a little discombobulating, but a treat nonetheless.

From her debut Giselle with the Bolshoi:

 

Leonid Sarafanov was an interesting Albrecht, who looked like he was about twelve years old and was positively swimming in the capes he was wearing (which looked more like Snuggies), but he is brilliant, exceptionally light on his feet, and a fantastic virtuoso dancer. Some of the bravura steps I questioned like the double tours in passé into the immediate renversé, which looked much too off-kilter for Romantic era ballet and also his gestures/facial expressions during the entrechat six I understood the purpose of, but kind of looked like desperate flailing. Albrecht is dancing to his death, but this is a moment where I think the action of the feet, the beating of the legs and ideally the rebound in between those beats tells the story of Myrtha’s tormenting of him (speaking of Myrtha, while Ekaterina Kondaurova wasn’t the most fearsome, I liked her subtle brooding).

In conclusion, a fun evening but maybe not the most moving experience; it is however, nice to know that people are trying to integrate new technology into ballet production. I’m not so sure this is going to become commonplace, and quite frankly, I would much rather have access to more live broadcasts on a 2-D screen. Driving forty minutes to this theater was one thing, tacking on an additional three hours to venture deep into the heart of central Washington is another! So more than anything, availability means more to me than the latest inventions in media technology. Though the audience for this particular screening wasn’t large, much of them were quite into it so I think this is an arena where there is the potential to increase viewership. They may need a friendly reminder that opera houses don’t sell popcorn though!

A Simply Sibley Cinderella

I love libraries, and I hope you do too. My latest string of acquisitions includes Sir Frederick Ashton’s Cinderella, with Antoinette Sibley and Anthony Dowell. This pair of Royal Ballet dancers achieved such legendary status that books are written about them, like the coffee table tome also on loan from the library entitled Sibley and Dowell, which features photography by Leslie Spatt and text by Nicholas Dromgoole (which totally sounds like a Harry Potter name). With pages of gorgeous black and white photos, a few words from Dromgoole (hehe), and a great deal of transcriptions of interviews with Sibley and Dowell, the book offers great insight into the history and careers of these two dancers. Incidentally, in discussing differences between dancing wit the Royal Ballet and other companies, Dowell mentioned that in working with American Ballet Theater and New York City Ballet, ideas were shared but not a sense of humor. It then occurred to me to consider the prevalence of UK readership in regards to this blog—there may be some truth to those jokes I make about having a European sense of humor!

Anyway, Ashton’s Cinderella is widely regarded as the most prominent version today, and it is in fact the first full-length English ballet. There are two recordings of Ashton’s Cinderella available on film, both noteworthy for different reasons. The older one (filmed in 1957) is a made for television version featuring the illustrious Dame Margot Fonteyn (for whom the role was made, but due to illness, Moira Shearer debuted it instead). The film also has original cast member Michael Somes as the prince (Fonteyn/Somes being another legendary pairing in their own right) and the unique occasion of having Sir Fred himself and Sir Kenneth MacMillan as the Ugly Stepsisters. The very thought of Ashton and MacMillan (two gods of ballet choreography!) as the Ugly Stepsisters has me losing my mind, and although clips of this performance reveals a grainy, black and white film, that doesn’t detract from its historical significance. I’m not sure I understand complaints about the film quality anyway, as if people cared that the recently found footage of Diaghilev’s Ballet Russes isn’t HD!

However, the original Ugly Stepsisters were actually Sir Fred and Sir Robert Helpmann, appearing in the debut on December 23^rd, 1948. Twenty-one years later, Sibley and Dowell’s performance is filmed, and includes both Ashton and Helpmann in their signature character roles (also, Alexander Grant, the original Jester, appears in both films, which is quite the span since the 1948 debut!). The Ugly Stepsisters are characters often met with some controversy, because they’re these over-the-top, squabbling, vulture-like caricatures whose antics a lot of people find annoying. While I can agree with some of those complaints, I still think they’re necessary—without the Stepsisters, there isn’t much of a story! Ashton also paid tribute to the tradition of British pantomime (or “panto” as they apparently like to say), which dates back to the Middle Ages and almost always has campy characters played by men in drag. For me, the humor of Cinderella would just be incomplete, and there are such delicious moments when Sir Fred is in the role because he’s so willing to mock his own art. Nowhere else will you see Sir Fred, performing “the Fred step” with a complete disregard for aesthetics. Although, I suppose it’s possible part of what made the Ugly Stepsisters special may have died with the originators, something Sibley and Dowell might agree with, having said that getting to dance on the same stage with Ashton and Helpmann had a special sense of occasion.

While I’m notorious for an aversion to Prokofiev, I didn’t entirely mind the score. It helps that Ashton appears to have been heavily inspired by the music because it is some of the most unique choreography I’ve seen of his, and by unique I also mean wicked—especially the corps work. Much of the choreography for the corps de ballet is quite zippy and moves in unusual patterns, which fits Prokofiev’s music so well, and it’s hard to keep those lines clean when things are faster. Cinderella also has a difficult variation, where she has to do a series of flickering turns in a circle, not just once but twice, and just watching is dizzying enough. The ball pas de deux with her Prince is an interesting one, containing references to clock hands and the countdown to her midnight curfew. The way she beats her legs together midair mimics the seconds ticking away, and all kinds of straight limbs in arabesque and penchée indicate time’s influence on her allotment with the Prince. It’s not as though the shapes tell you exactly what time it is, but the way they’re jumbled together is an obvious statement as to how she loses herself in time as she is falling in love.

Cinderella’s Variation:

 

Cinderella Pas de Deux, with Alina Cojocaru and Johan Kobborg:

 

Speaking of the ball, however, it’s Cinderella’s entrance that is perhaps one of the finest moments, as she descends a staircase and simply bourées forward. The bourée being one of the most elementary of movements on pointe, it is often relegated as a way to get from A to B when a sort of shimmering, or floating effect is desired. Rarely does the bourée by itself get respect as a choreographed step, and this particular usage has to be up there with the most poetic instances of it (the other one I think of being Myrtha’s entrance in Giselle. Fokine’s The Dying Swan is of course all bourées, but is a piece that is really told through the arms rather than the feet)

Cinderella’s Entrance, with Margot Fonteyn:

 

As for Sibley and Dowell, they are of course the image of perfection in DVD. Dowell has been filmed numerous times but there is an unfortunate shortage of Sibley, so it’s a treat to even have just this one with her in a principal role. An elfin blonde, Sibley makes the role of Cinderella look completely natural, with gracious acting and strong balances (she had many an arabesque on pointe that were just brilliant, the trademark of classical lines and correct placement). It’s impossible to not love Dowell as well, even if the role of the Prince is not a particularly deep one. He is genuine, reserved, and elegant and quite young here. It wasn’t his first appearance on film (he danced Benvolio in the Fonteyn/Nureyev Romeo and Juliet), but his second and he even looked just a little shy. What’s also interesting is that the Prince’s solo has a lot of jumps in it, something that Dowell mentions not being his strength (and is completely evident when he spins a quadruple pirouette into a perfect extension of his leg to the side, maintaining a flawless center), and that he was happier with it after changes were made to it during a tour to Australia. It was also during that tour Sibley and Dowell had a humorous incident during a performance in which her costume got caught on his in a lift:

Dowell: I was trying to bring you down from a shoulder lift and your tutu caught on the hooks of my coat, and you were quite immovable, pinned to me like a brooch.

Sibley: You kept saying ‘Get down, get down!’ and I could only say ‘I can’t, I can’t!’

Dowell: Eventually we had to run off, or rather, I mean I had to run off, with you just dangling.

(Bonus pointes if you read the above with an accent! Unless you speak British-English, in which case I guess you were just reading it)

While we are without a more current production of Ashton’s Cinderella on film (though there has been outcry to have the BBC broadcast of the Cojocaru/Kobborg performance released on DVD), the Sibley/Dowell is more than sufficient—it’s stunning. The only thing missing (literally) is an entr’acte where the Prince searches the world for Cinderella and some critics lament that the omission of that scene eliminates character dances, although character dances, like Ugly Stepsisters can be controversial too; maybe you’re one of those people that finds them vile, time consuming, and a little racist…maybe not (boy, that’s a blog topic for another day—are character dances racist?). Regardless, despite pockets of Ashton all over the United States, for audiences in America our only chance to see it is to commence an odyssey to Chicago, and see the Joffrey Ballet, who added it fairly recently to their repertory in 2006. The rest of us can (and should) enjoy the Sibley/Dowell, and believe me when I say there are few things as sacrosanct as Georgina Parkinson’s Fairy Godmother!

Behind the scenes look at the Joffrey Ballet’s production of Ashton’s Cinderella: