Valerie Wilder told the National Post of Canada that, before coming to Boston Ballet, she’d been told that “the board is famous for eating its young.” What’s that all about?
You would be surprised what I was told when I got here. People told me, “You can only do this kind of ballet,” and that’s not the case.
Boston Ballet has always done all sorts of dance.
Exactly.
Over the past 20 years, Boston Ballet has done Balanchine’s Serenade well and his Concerto Barocco not so well. Why might that be?
I have danced in several different companies, and I do see that certain ballets fit certain companies better than others. And it is not always directly related to the quality of the company. When I was in San Francisco Ballet, some of the Balanchine ballets fit like a glove. Ballo della Regina was brilliant, vibrant. Then Symphony in C didn’t seem to fit as well. And they did [Stravinsky] Violin Concerto much better than Four Temperaments. There’s no reason. At Boston Ballet, I held off from Serenade for a long time, because I said I don’t want to just do Serenade, everybody does Serenade, let’s do Serenade when we’re going to do it brilliantly. You haven’t seen Theme and Variations — I love that ballet, but I’ll bring it when I have the right people. And now it’s time for Barocco. I love that ballet. Let’s see.
It’s been 18 years since the company danced an Antony Tudor work, Jardin aux lilas. He has a special aesthetic, especially in the upper body. Could you talk about that?
It’s the hundredth anniversary of Tudor’s birth, so it’s a big Tudor year. I recognize him as a great master with a very specific style. And for me this ballet personifies him perfectly. Really dark tough subject, incredible music, he’s created a simple choreography that not only illustrates the music and tells a story but really gets you emotionally. It’s so understated. Like ballets, in order to get something across, one does something, in Dark Elegies one is, it’s about being, a simple presence and a gaze into the audience. And the music hits you like a freight train. Beautifully simplistic. All the manners and the gestures, they’re not dressed up. It’s not very flowery language, it’s simplicity. The hands are not ballet hands; they are the hands of a man or a woman. The walks are simple walks, very close to nature. I danced the pas de deux in this, I loved it.
The British dance critics — notably Clement Crisp — don’t seem to like Philip Glass or Twyla Tharp, and they certainly don’t like In the Upper Room. What are they missing?
Here’s a quadruple espresso, and I think in these days it’s illegal to sell it in Starbucks, but this is your overdrive, and it knocked my socks off when I saw it as a dancer. It was so exciting. Philip Glass was not so much done — five years earlier were the first pieces, in the early ’80s the ballet world started using Glass, and they were still fresh, and Twyla started using that with her stretching moves and yoga and dressed it up in black-and-white-striped things, with two teams, and, yes, it’s a great work. There might be some very famous choreographers I don’t care for. I think it’s an individual-taste thing.
