Monday, Feb. 13, 1995
POINT PERFECT
By Martha Duffy
"A ballerina needs taste and ego and determination. She should be a ham, looking at you and trying to provoke you. Beyond that, the secret is in a fresh way of phrasing, of playing with the music." -MIKHAIL BARYSHNIKOV
"It doesn't hurt to be pretty either." -PETER MARTINS
"BALLET IS WOMAN" IS GEORGE BALANCHINE'S MOST frequently quoted remark. Of course he was right. Enchanted bird, sleeping princess, sugarplum confection-the woman on her toes unlocks the mysteries of dance. It takes nothing away from male virtuosity, or the boost that Nureyev and Baryshnikov gave ballet, to say that female stars carry the art.
Until the past few years, there has hardly been a lack of them. In the 1970s and early '80s, the international roster included Natalia Makarova, Suzanne Farrell, Gelsey Kirkland, Cynthia Gregory and Carla Fracci. In those days there were also thrilling partnerships that sold out houses worldwide. In Britain the great linkage of Fonteyn and Nureyev was followed by the pairing of Antoinette Sibley and Anthony Dowell. Erik Bruhn and Fracci raced about the world bolstering the box office at various companies. Baryshnikov was the pivot in two blazing partnerships: one with Makarova that reached back to the pair's Russian roots, and an American one with Kirkland.
Back then ballet flourished, gaining new audiences, people who believed they were getting in on a Golden Age. But one by one, the stars went out and were not replaced. The quality of dancers did not decline-their skills were if anything more remarkable-but somehow the magic vanished.
Now, for the first time in more than a decade, things are looking up. Among newcomers, there are several young ballerinas who combine technical wizardry with terrific impact. The most remarkable of them is the Royal Ballet's Darcey Bussell, 25, a beautiful young woman who seems poised to be a major star of the future. American Ballet Theatre's Paloma Herrera, only 19, commands the stage in every bold, joyous performance she gives. And at the New York City Ballet, two relative beginners, Jenifer Ringer, 21, and Miranda Weese, 20, both just promoted to soloist rank, are darting through the difficult repertory and making it sizzle.
What gives a dancer the priceless elan that makes the audience lose its heart? Baryshnikov, who was artistic director of American Ballet Theatre from 1980 to 1989 and was never lucky enough to develop a star ballerina, is right that an imaginative response to music is crucial. All four women move in highly individual ways, and Bussell is particularly daring in her responses. Baryshnikov also points to the obvious qualities a ballerina must possess: the confidence and drive and "extraordinary natural facility." But humility is necessary as well. "A young girl must open her heart and mind," Baryshnikov says. "She must have the ability to learn, and learn from people who have never been as good as she already is. If you start out saying, 'Why listen? He can't do half what I can do,' it's hopeless."
That openness was the first sign Darcey Bussell gave of future greatness. She started late, at age 13, at London's Royal Ballet School, where her contemporaries were already at the third level. Patricia Linton, an important teacher there, remembers telling her she had better hurry up or give up. "Darcey took it in stride, the logic of training. All her moves were generous, and she had a lovely, open honesty."
Bussell blossomed into a leggy beauty and at 19 was picked by choreographer Kenneth MacMillan to dance the lead in his last full-length work, The Prince of the Pagodas. Since then she has danced all the classics except Giselle-"Can't wait," is her reaction to the prospect of playing that quintessential romantic heroine.
Though she has lived in London all her life, Bussell is often characterized as having a distinctly American style. That is shorthand for speed, an audacious freedom of movement and an offhand, nonshowy virtuosity-all qualities that make Bussell exhilarating to watch. With such a style, it was inevitable that she would conquer America, and she did so in June 1993 at the gala marking New York City Ballet's Balanchine celebration. To dramatize the international impact of Balanchine's work, artistic director Peter Martins invited some foreign dancers to perform with the company. Bussell was ablaze in the sexy pas de deux from Agon-and brought down the house, the prime spectacle on a spectacular night. Her reaction to the ovation was typical: "I didn't expect it-all that for just a pas de deux. Weird."
She shrugs off her precocious exploits. She is the rare dancer who could also be a model, and she enjoys occasional fashion shoots. Designers compete to have her wear their creations. A recent issue of London's Tatler magazine showed her with a diamond as big as the Ritz-between her teeth. She was made an officer of the Order of the British Empire in the Queen's most recent honors list, a remarkable achievement for a 25-year-old.
Still young and fresh, Bussell has become fixed in the firmament. Paloma Herrera is well on her way. Born in Buenos Aires to a well-off family, when she came to the U.S. only four years ago to study at the School of American Ballet, she was distressed. Her training had been in the older, European style that called for careful poses. Says a teacher: "She was 15, dancing 35." Herrera changed her technique but not her dream of dancing just about everything-not only Mr. B. but the classics, Antony Tudor, Twyla Tharp as well. So she joined A.B.T. instead of City Ballet. Onstage she can seem like the illusion of a trick camera, some hypothetical device that can do slo-mo and speed-up at once. She has a high jump and executes complicated allegro moves with clarity and miraculously delicate musicianship. But what she communicates most is the sheer joy of being out there.
Jenifer Ringer took the more conventional route. After graduating from the School of American Ballet, she went on to New York City Ballet. This winter season has been a sort of Jenny Ringer festival at Lincoln Center. She has danced 15 roles already this season. Her boss Peter Martins says he "hasn't yet seen what she can't do. And she learns roles like lightning." Dark, willowy, with a lovely, lyrical line, she is unusual in the current City Ballet roster in that she obviously enjoys acting. Balanchine's motto, "Just do," isn't enough for her. Sean Lavery's pas de deux based on the Romeo and Juliet balcony scene gives her the extra depth she revels in, and her portrayal of Juliet, sketched in just a few minutes, establishes both the modesty and the tragic will of the character. Martins calls her his "little Shakespeare girl." Ringer dances from the heart, and that should serve her well as a dramatic ballerina, a breed of artist that is in short supply these days.
If Ringer plays to the crowd, Miranda Weese says she dances "as much for myself as for the audience." Perfectly proportioned with an ample, sculpted style, she is an especially gifted turner (ballet patois for the ability to spin). A native of Southern California, she is a reticent, thoughtful person whose concentration is complete but not inhibiting. "When performing I feel completely free," she says. "Only in rehearsal do I worry about technique." Jerome Robbins chose her (and Ringer) to be in his new ballet, 2 & 3 Part Inventions. Weese enjoyed working with the master, who is 76. Her Southern Cal call: "He is in the moment." She realizes that once the novelty of being the new kid in town wears off, she will have to work to stay prominent: "Now I'm a new thing, and if you have something new, you use it a lot."
This quartet stands a good chance to prevail and bring excitement back to the ballet world. After the dreary years, these women are needed. Why has ballet had troubles recently? Martins points to the loss of Balanchine, ballet's presiding genius, and of such grand figures as Lucia Chase, who ran American Ballet Theatre for 35 years. Further, he notes that some of the mystery went out of the art with the breakup of the Soviet Union-no more defectors with their fathomless melancholy, struggling for a free artistic life.
But something also changed about the dancers themselves. Youths are now capable of astonishing technical feats-just as they are in various Olympic sports. Too often both choreography and coaching emphasize virtuosity in what might be called a can-you-top-this derby. Violette Verdy, an elegant Paris Opara ballerina who came to City Ballet in the '50s and is now a teaching associate, ponders the differences between her own, gentler dance culture and the harder, high-tech world in which this generation must work. "We live now under so many pressures. This is a time of technique. Speed becomes violence; energy becomes stridency."
That is where Bussell and her bridesmaids come in. Darcey always dances big, her moves expanding the music and lending pliancy to the tautest Stravinsky in Agon. Herrera carries with her the timeless aura of the theater. Ringer has the potential to bring forward the Romantic tradition. As for Weese, there is a mysteriousness that is still intact, while her grace and skill are obvious. We may be approaching an era of poetry in motion.