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CHAPTER 17 My First Cinderella and La Bayadčre I began with my first three act “Cinderella”. Michelle Lucci with the Pennsylvania Ballet danced the lead. Richard Schafer from American Ballet Theater danced the Prince and David Howard, director of Harkness House danced the drag role of the wicked Stepmother. I couldn’t ask for a better cast. A year later, the same company invited back to stage a full-length “Sleeping Beauty” with Starr Danias of ABT and Burton Taylor, both from the earlier “Dream” with Joffrey.
I was also staging Petipa’s “La Bayadčre” as well as guest teaching in San Francisco, Tampa, Florida, Birmingham, Alabama, Florida State University, Salt Lake City, Toronto, Canada. I was on a roll which never seemed to stop. There was one very odd assignment. For a full week,
every day from nine to five, I was to teach the Bolshoi’s
“Humpbacked Horse” in the Biltmore Hotel in NYC. This four act
Russian folk ballet, from an ancient tale by Yershov, was made
famous by Maya Plitsetskaya and Vladimir Vasiliev during the 60s. I
had seen it and notated most of it while in Russia Early one morning, I found myself in the center of the huge Biltmore
ballroom, surrounded by about 200
Un-daunted, I began to dance every solo, every corps person’s part, every scene of this four-act ballet entirely by myself. Not only dance it but while dancing I had to verbally instruct, with all the counts and directions, and in a loud enough voice to be heard by everyone in the ballroom. By 10 AM I was breathless, exhausted and ready for lunch-break, but was told I had two more hours before lunch. This couldn’t go on. For the next and final day of
this madness, I frantically called some Harkness trainees to come
and help, to be the bodies that I needed so desperately. Photo:
Teaching in the Biltmore ballroom, NYC I dreaded to think of what these productions must
have looked like back in their home towns after they re-taught it to
their students. However, the organizer of these conventions,
called Dance Congress, told me that my ballets were the most
successful they’d ever had. I planned to teach a ballet called ‘Pas de Fiancées’, which the Harkness had done. It was a ballet with six rather difficult classical variations. The word-notes that I drew up for the teachers had full descriptions of every step and count. Before leaving, and keeping in mind the experience at the Biltmore, I made sure to phone the Association’s President to explain the technique required. Would the teachers be able to dance it? Yes, of course, she assured me. After all, their teachers were all professionals. I believed her and foolishly began to teach them as professionals, or at least as having a knowledge of classic ballet technique. Then, to my horror, one by one they dropped out. They were not trained dancers at all but mostly overweight teachers who ran children’s dance studios. I again ended up dancing it all by myself. At least they said my notes were perfect. After lunch I had prepared to teach a Moldavian folk dance. It was an easy dance but fearing it would be as difficult as the previous one, no one could be persuaded to come out on the floor, even though I made the concession they could do it in tap shoes. Maybe three or four took part after they were begged. There I learned a very valuable lesson. For the next convention in Columbus, Ohio, I arranged the simplest of dances, a goldfish dance that their children could easily perform in recitals. It was a big hit, except I felt really foolish imitating a goldfish before an astonished hotel staff! The next one was in New York City at the Americana Hotel. For this they wanted a character class. By this time I was getting more and more well known, not as a ballet dancer but as a character teacher. I had two sessions, one for the teachers in the morning and another in the afternoon for their gum-chewing students. I decided to make it a real presentation by dressing the part in a colorful Russian shirt and boots. I taught from a platform in a huge ballroom with 250 teachers gathered below, holding onto chair backs. I taught a character barre and center and, as I usually do, gave a brief talk about character dancing. This class went along fine, but the afternoon session - in another ballroom with the students brought along by the teachers - a minor disaster occurred. The person operating the tape recorder pushed the wrong button so there was ten uncomfortable minutes searching for the proper music. Meanwhile the students fidgeted and talked. When we got started again, they went through the motions, in tap shoes [another concession], but it was clear to me that what they really wanted was more jazz and hip-hop classes, not Russian character.. Monotones and Faith Worth It so happened that the English choreologist Faith Worth, who notated Monotones as well as "The Dream", was in New York, over at the Met staging Sir Frederic’s dances for the opera, “Death In Venice”. I knew she would know the ballet first hand, having worked with Sir Frederic through all of the Monotones rehearsals. I suggested to Joffrey it might be a good idea to ask her if she would be available to teach the ballet. It could go even quicker that way and I could assist. There followed one of the most humiliating experiences I ever had in my life! First of all, when the score arrived from Covent Garden it included a note that said I was not to be allowed to take the score off the premises. This not only prevented me from taking the score home to study before the next day’s rehearsal, but looked to Mr. Joffrey as if I couldn’t be trusted with it - that I might make a photocopy and run off with it to illegally stage it elsewhere. Even if I had such devious plans, no responsible company would ever go along with such a scheme? Faith treated me not as a colleague but more or less as a servant. Observing this, all the dancers were feeling sorry for me. And to think it was I would got her the job in the first place! When she had to return to London for a week she naturally left me to rehearse the ballet. This was fine except she left by telling me that I could not proceed any further but to only rehearse what she had already taught. I was stymied. Every day I had go over and over the same steps and to fill up rehearsal time, painstakingly go over every miniscule detail in the score while the dancers wondered why they couldn’t go on. I later reported this entire unfortunate affair to the London Institute Board of Directors. After Mr. Benesh’s death in 1972, a few of the
these British choreologists formed a council-of-management. With
that seizure of power, they finally even ousted Joan Benesh, the
co-inventor and founder of choreology. |
dance teachers sitting at tables.
I was expecting them to come out on the floor to learn this ballet,
or at least do an approximation of the steps. After all, they were
supposed to take it back home to their schools in cities or towns,
or villages and teach it to their students. Instead they all just
sat at their tables, studying the 400 page book of notes I had spent
well over a month in writing and illustrating. They just watched,
waiting to be shown. 