Dancehunter interviews herself, again

Dancehunter: Again, why do you interview yourself once a year?

Dancehunter: Because someone has to, it might as well be me. It keeps me from talking about myself during interviews.

DH: What is Dancehunter?

DH: An imaginary feature movie where I, along with a motley crew, hunt for dance. Like a bounty hunter, except no one goes to jail. It’s my twitter handle and also a largely abandoned blog, which is used as a storage facility for stories I publish elsewhere.

DH: How do you describe yourself?

DH:  A dance writer with a weakness for theater, music,  film and football.  I should add that I was recently called a “fame whore.”

DH: You do endlessly hawk your stuff.

DH: And why shouldn’t I? I write so someone besides my mother will read it.

DH: Blogging?

DH: Having a blog is not a life sentence.  Sometimes, we finish out our urge to share, or get busy with paying deadlines.  Project blogs work well.  Set a realistic goal and stick to it.

DH: Artists blogging?

It’s not mandatory, or even advised if you don’t much like writing.  If it feels like a chore, don’t do it.  For long term projects, tours and such, a blog can be useful to document your travels or process. Wendy Perron addressed the subject of over-sharing artists, touching a nerve or two.

DH: The state of dance writing?

DH: We are like Conan O’Brien. You can’t kill us. We just keep coming back. There will always be people who choose to write about dance. Whether we will ever have a critical mass of people making a living writing about dance is doubtful. I am not sure we ever did.

DH: Why did you stop writing reviews?

DH: For a variety of reasons: There are other people to write them; I find the form a tad lifeless; I am not very good at it. All that said, read the New York Times piece on why we still need literary criticism. It feels relevant.

DH: Where can we find your writing?

DH: Culturemap, Dance Magazine, Pointe Magazine, Dance Spirit, Dance Teacher, mostly. Here and there in other publications.

DH: Where can we find your most unfiltered voice?

DH: Culturemap, but more and more in other places. I am starting to sound like myself everywhere. It’s a function of age.

DH: Aging?

DH: I don’t recommend it.

DH: What blogs do you read?

DH: Wendy Perron’s Dance Magazine blog, Arts Journal Blogs, Debra Jo Levine’s Arts Meme, Nichelle Strzepek’s  Dance Advantage, Andrew Sprung explains politics to me on xpostfactoid , to see all that I am missing in New York, Susan Yung’s Sunday Arts Blog on Thirteen New York Public Media,  my son’s blog, The Shape of Junk to Come for amusement and to see the gaps in my parenting. I skip about without much consistency. Mostly, I wait until someone sends me a link telling me to read something. I am of the obedient persuasion.

DH: So we are all front page editors now?

DH: It’s a “my body, my newspaper” world out there as so many people now have a service that aggregates pieces from their twitter lists.  I don’t miss the real front page that much. I’m not remotely nostalgic for print. Read Interviews with Notable Aggregaters in the Future for what happens when we take that too far.

DH: How can we get more arts writing?

DH: Hellishly simple, read more arts writing. Your eyeballs are being counted now, and so far, they don’t hold a candle to stories about Kim what’s her name.  Share arts stories you like. These days, numbers generate stories. Put your eyes where your desires are.

DH: Facebook?

DH:  The fact that we know more about one another is generally a good thing. I have a Facebook page, which will one day have every story I have ever written and will free up a lot of space in my house.  Please “like it.” I appreciate that Facebook is always working on its face.

DH: Most people don’t like that. Twitter?

DH: I like that Twitter makes us work on our sentences.  I have a Dance Magazine story coming out about how dancers and choreographers use Twitter. I started following every dancer I could find and still do.  It’s a marvelous way to get the pulse of a field. Twitter reminds me of dinner time when I was growing up, where everyone fought to be heard. It’s also a great way to keep up with life outside of Houston.

DH: What of Houston?

DH: It’s a love the city you are with situation. It’s impossible to keep up with my field here, not enough dance comes through here, or really ever did.  So I go see opera, classical music, theater, film and visual art.  Dance is always my home art form, though.  I look at all other art forms from a motion detector lens.

DH: You fussed like a maniac over Black Swan before you saw it, then fussed like a maniac afterward about how much you hated it. What gives?

DH:  All true. (I imagine I will be soon fussing over Emily Blunt’s performance with Cedar Lake in The Adjustment Bureau.) I had no problem with Black Swan’s depiction of the ballet world. Heavens, we don’t need to go Hollywood movies to find that out.  I did not like the movie because it was boring and oftentimes silly. Although, the scene where Barbara Hershey was about to throw the cake in the trash was priceless camp.  Also, Natalie Portman was terrific.  She got a boyfriend, a baby on the way, and most probably an Oscar out of the deal. And, yes, she almost looked like  a dancer.

DH: Sugarplum gate?

DH: Do we have to go there?

DH: Yes, we do. All dance people are required to chime in on the “too many sugar plums” fiasco. It’s a law.

DH: I wonder if Black Swan had not been in the air if there would have been such a fuss. Here’s what’s interesting to me in all of this: regular people now know how screwy ballet can be. Jenifer Ringer is a household name. People who never go to ballet were asking me what I thought about it.  Ballet seems nuts to them.  It’s as if the bubble burst into middle America’s living rooms.  Even Katie Couric had to blab about it.  What is also curious to me is how our brains are hard wired to prefer certain bodily proportions. I found myself attending to my own attention during a recent performance, which included larger than usual bodies.  Dancing, more than the body doing it, is always more engaging to me.

DH: Do you think the ballet buzz will generate bodies in seats?

DH: I  hope so, but its hard to predict. If you read Jenifer Homans’ book, she dissects the dance boom, and it’s not so simple, as it was tied to a confluence of events, both artistic and political.

DH: What did you think of Homans’ book Apollo’s Angels?

DH: I could not put it down. Darren Aronofsky should have read it before he made Black Swan. The history of ballet is like a Matt Damon spy movie, just terrifically exciting. The last chapter declaring ballet dead hit me hard.  History tells us if you want to wake something up, call it dead.  If ballet is dead, then I love a dead thing. Besides, vampires and zombies are all the rage.  I am less enthusiastic about that last chapter, but the rest is just a thrill fest. Ballet in light of the politics of the day makes great reading. I want Ken Burns to make a 10-part PBS series based on it.  Oh, and a coloring book.

DH: What about the politics of this day?

DH:  If it weren’t really happening it would make a good book.  It’s maddening mostly, impossible, depressing as ever.

DH: Obama?

DH: He had a strong close of 2010, thank god, because it was rough going before that. His speech on the tragedy in Tuscon will go down in history. Otherwise, Wall Street likes him.  I am reminded of Jim Hightower’s book, There’s nothing in the middle  of the road except dead armadillos. It’s a difficult situation.

DH: What were the most difficult stories you worked on in 2010?

DH:  A Dance Teacher story on the top ten dance injuries. No one could agree on a top ten.  A Dance Spirit story trying to define contemporary dance. The term really sets people off, mostly due to how So You Think You Can Dance uses it.

DH:  Dance on TV?

DH:  It’s here to stay. Let’s hope it gets better. I covered my own addiction to it.

DH: Most fun story?

DH:  It’s a story about ballet dancers married to normal guys in Pointe. There was lots of laughing on the phone. Writing the piece was better than therapy, very fun and hopeful. It’s a sweet piece, much like the one I did on the Secret Lives of Dancers.

DH: Most poetic?

DH:  A Culturemap essay on what is seen and what is hidden.

DH: Bubbly?

DH: My Dance Spirit Cover story on Lauren Froderman, a  bubbly dancer.

DH: Funniest?

DH: My deep cover investigation of young professional arts groups.

DH: Most rant-ish?

DH:  It’s a tie between my Art has Value story,  which I yelled more than wrote, and my Dance Civics 101: Being a good dance citizen story in From the Green Room, Dance USA’s e-journal.

DH: Painful?

DH: The Hurt Factor, about chronic pain, in Dance Magazine.

DH: Heartfelt?

DH: A story about Houston Ballet, Society for the Performing Arts and Houston Grand Opera’s outreach programs.

DH: Silliest?

DH: My reception diet story.

DH: Most in over your head?

DH: A story on Wordcamp, which is what led me to break up with blogger, a profile on Salman Rushdie, a story on Fashion and dance and my adventures in film at the Cinema Arts Festival.  Sadly, for me readers, I like being in over my head.

DH: Clunker?

DH: My story on Justice John Paul Stevens read like a book report.

DH: Story with the strangest start?

DH: A dance studio window with a sign reading “Ballet, Tap, Jazz, Drill Team, Kathak”  led to The Global Dance Studio in Dance Teacher.

DH: Dreaded year end lists and wrap ups.

DH: My year at Culturemap, A Year in Culture (dance),  A Year in Culture, (theater).

DH: Words that need to die?

DH: “Hot” and “edgy” are zombie words. They will not go away until they have completed their mission in this world.  ”Curate” is on overuse probation and “buzzy” needs to meet me behind the barn.

DH: What most infuriates your editors?

DH: Making no sense gets them. My unwillingness to ask artists about what they do besides make art. I rarely have any interest in what they do outside of making art. Often, they have no interest in what they do outside of making art, so they make things up. I am more of an art person than a people person. It’s just me, others do this really well.

DH: Best dance moment of 2010?

DH: Chatting with Marge Champion, the Hollywood legend and model for Disney’s Snow White at Jacob’s Pillow.

Watch the magic below.

DH: How best to contact you?

nmwozny2@gmail.com, @dancehunter, 832-326-5234, at Caroline Collective on some days, where I co-work and when inspired, dust.

DH: Ideal job?

DH: Clicking “like” for a living.  Being a designated art witness.

Theater LaB Houston

Photo by Kata Fountain

At the mall, Theater LaB’s Bobby Haworth as Greg and Lauren Dolf as Steph

Neil LaBute doesn’t play nice. America’s obsession with beauty is not pretty in LaBute’s hands, but it will be funny, and, quite possibly, revealing.

The third piece of the savagely comic playwright’s beauty trilogy, reasons to be pretty, now up at Theater LaB Houston (TLH) and running through Feb. 5, captures contemporary life in all its scorching truth.

You might recognize LaBute’s name from the feature films, The Shape of Things, Nurse Betty and In the Company of Men. Or maybe you were one of the lucky ones who got in to see LaBute’s biting comedy, Fat Pig,during its sold-out run at TLH in 2007.

Reasons to be pretty follows Douglas Carter Beane’s The Little Dog Laughed, directed by TLH resident director Jimmy Phillips, which made numerous “best play” lists, including mine. Even with a several week run the play sold out. The season’s hottest ticket in town came from a tiny theater with a Texas-sized reputation.

There’s not a classic old chestnut in sight at TLH, which focuses on plays you could see in New York or London right now or in the past few years. Founded by Gerald Blaise LaBita in 1993, TLH regularly produces Houston premieres.

Its devoted audience has grown accustomed to cutting edge drama. LaBita travels to theater hubs to find plays that interest him, his sophisticated subscriber base and what will work in his cozy 65-seat theater. Comedies, dramas, musicals — they’re all there. Most often, they are plays you can’t see anywhere else in Houston.

After the resounding success of Fat Pig, LaBita wanted to keep LaBute’s acid tongue alive at TLH. Director Mark Adams sees LaBute as part of the lineage of David Mamet and Harold Pinter.

“LaBute studied with Mamet, who was influenced by Pinter. So you have the father, son and the holy ghost,” quips Adams, artistic director of theCollege of the Mainland Community Theater. “LaBute has such a gift for dialogue , the way people really speak. He drops you in the middle of a conversation, so we have to catch up and figure it all out. It’s like eavesdropping. “

The New York Times agreed, calling LaBute’s prose “some of the freshest and most illuminating American dialogue to be heard anywhere.”

Adams sees a link with Pinter’s theater of menace.

“With LaBute, it’s emotional violence,” he says. He finds the script plays to his strength as a director. “With a cast of four, I can really flesh out the characters. And you will not like everyone in this play.

“A great Russian novelist wrote that unless you make an enormous number of mistakes in your twenties, you’ll never amount to anything. To me, LaBute is showing us four vividly drawn twentysomethings, all making big mistakes and/or showing bad judgment. What makes the play hopeful, ultimately, is that they can all amount to something someday if they will only learn from those mistakes.”

TLH regularly attracts both seasoned and up and coming actors. The terrific cast of reasons includes Bobby Haworth, Lauren Dolk, Mike Yager and Rebekah Stevens.

Next up is Gone Missing, created by The Civilians, an Obie Award-winning New York-based investigative theater company, with a book by Steven Cosson and music by Michael Friedman.

Gone Missing, which will be directed by Linda Phenix, is based on interviews with real-life New Yorkers, missing such objects as keys, personal identification, a Gucci pump and even their minds.

“Gone Missing is not a traditional musical. It runs the gamut from funny to poignant, making it quite an emotional ride,” says Phenix, a longtime TLH collaborator. “The music is all over the genre map too, from pop to beautiful ballads.”

Phenix got hooked on TLH early on, and has directed about one play a year, including the popular The Big Bang and Boy Groove. “TLH has such a niche in Houston,” Phenix adds.

TLH’s space itself has good story. “This was Mickey’s Foot Market, my parent’s grocery store. We lived in the back,” says LaBita, who has always been interested in theater.

Situated south of I-10 not far from the Washington Ave. corridor, the neighborhood is in major transition. Sleek new townhomes nestle in between tiny cottages. With Spring Street Studios opening soon, the area is getting artsier by the minute.

“I was surprised how long it took to change though,” says LaBita, who realizes he might be sitting on some prime real estate.

LaBita, Adams and Phenix all see the intimacy of the setting as a plus. “It’s thrilling and harrowing. There’s no escape,” Adams says. “You are trapped in a room with the cast with no one more than 12 feet away. There’s a lot of painful exchanges in LaBute’s play. You might get uncomfortable. It’s cringe drama — you may be horrified but you cannot look away.”

For Phenix, it’s about finding the right piece that will work in the space. “I love the intimacy. It makes your hair stand on end. But I did have to learn how to work in the space.”

For LaBita, he wouldn’t have it any other way. “If we moved, I would still build a small theater.”

TLH concludes its season with [title of show]. No, that’s not a mistake — it’s really the title of this whimsical new musical about two nobodies named Hunter and Jeff who decide to write a completely original musical starring themselves and their attractive and talented lady friends, Susan and Heidi.

With TLH legend Phillips directing, expect equal doses of sass, flash and fun.

Reprinted from Culturemap.

 

The Nach Project

You don’t need to know a drop about dance to make a dance, so thinksJennifer Wood, Houston’s beloved indie Suchu Dance choreographer and now mastermind behind The Nach Project (TNP), funded by a Houston Arts Alliance grant.

“Anyone can try their hand at being a budding choreographer, from novices to professionals, all our welcome,” Wood says. “And you don’t even need to live in Houston. TNP is open to people from all over the world.”

Wood launches her project 8 p.m. Saturday at Barnevelder Theater, where she will be doing a walk though of the process.

“We may even make a dance on the spot,” she says. “It’s not a sit down and be quiet event. People will be able to come and go, and there will be food and drink. Plus, it’s free.”

“Nach,” which rhymes with “much,” is Punjabi for “to dance.” The idea sprang from Wood’s desire to both keep us guessing and to educate her audiences on the ins and outs of dance making. Wood likes to change it up a bit, and rarely does the same thing twice.

“I wanted to get away from what I normally do and step out of my comfort zone,” Wood says. She also got tired of people asking if her dancers were making it up as they go along.

“People have no idea what goes into making choreography. I still get audience members wondering if we are improvising on stage,” she says. “The choreographic process is not well understood by the general public.”

As Houston’s most prolific choreographer, Wood knows first hand that making a dance is hard work. She perused her old choreography books for inspiration, but found herself quite stuck in coming up with a plan at first. So she worked in reverse, by creating a dance, then figuring out afterward how it all came together. That process formed the beginning of her very engaging and complete instructions to make a solo, duet or trio. If you get lost, help is on the way.

TNP is user-friendly from beginning to end, yet writing instructions proved no easy task.

“I had a little identity crisis when I first started. Who am I to tell anyone how to make a dance? There are so many ways to do it,” Wood admits. “These are just three of them.” To make the guidelines easy for the non-dancer, she enlisted the help of Vipul Divecha, who translated her dancer-ese into plain language that anyone can understand.

“Vipul had no idea what I was talking about in my first draft,” Wood says. “I really thought they were completely clear.”

All the dances will be uploaded to the website, so there will be a communal sharing of new work. Wood emphasizes process over results. “This is not about the end product,” she says.

TNP is set up as a separate entity outside of Suchu Dance, Barnvelder’s resident troupe. Known for her more cryptic methods, Wood rarely likes to talk about her own process. Most of her dances fall into the pure movement category, which makes the question, “What is this dance about?” even more troubling.

“People are usually disappointed when I talk about my work,” Wood says. “There is always a level of  mystique when I work on a show. I don’t want to ruin the magic.”

Her next opus is Masters of Semblance, running March 24-April 3 at Barnevelder, where she will recycle, reuse and re-purpose some of her earlier work.

“I will be using different costumes and music. I doubt anyone will be able to recognize these dances,” she says. As separate as she plans to keep her endeavors, TNP has already infiltrated her artistic process.

“I am more appreciative when I give my dancers instructions and they stare back at me with blank faces,” Wood adds.

The one thing both projects (Suchu dance and TNP) have in common is that they are often wildly entertaining. Wood’s quirky sense of humor is in great evidence no matter what she does. The choreographer has some words of advice for novice dance makers.

Don’t be scared of the instructions,” she says. “Do one step at a time and see what you come up with. Don’t worry if it’s any good or you will never get anything done. Just have fun.”

Wood has Texas-sized plans. “I hope The Nach Project will grow into a global dance community with user-generated content,” she says. “It has the potential to be a world-wide forum for learning about and for sharing dance. I really hope that the project continues to grow as something accessible for everyone everywhere in the future.”

Reprinted from Culturemap.

Art has value that goes way beyond the economy and testing kids

Travesty Dance Group

Photo by Karen Stokes

And now, a little rant from your resident art evangelist.

I will never forget the humiliation and anger I felt when, sitting in a meeting as the teaching artist liaison, a board member, announced that dance had the least impressive studies when it comes to helping kids learn math. Well, excuse me, lady, let me just run over to Houston Ballet, call all my choreographer and dancer friends, and tell them to quit because dance doesn’t help us learn science, math and social studies as well as the other arts.

Her comments speak to a system where we only value an art form in its ability to do something outside of itself. It’s a disturbing trend.

I have used this space to highlight a number of outstanding arts and education outreach programs in Houston, such as Musiqa, Houston Grand Opera, Houston Ballet, Society for the Performing Arts, Travesty Dance Company, InterActive Theater, Main Street Theater (MST) and many more. These are the people who are introducing the power of the arts to Houston’s students. If curriculum connections manifest, terrific, go for it.

The best arts programs leave open the possibility that children are equally excited by the arts as they are the subject tie-ins. Designed to deepen and freshen teachers and students’ experience with the Shakespeare canon, MST’s peer to peer Shakespeare program is a perfect example of an initiative that puts art first.

Talking about the arts only in terms of its economic value, a virtual mantra of the arts community in Houston, is another concept that makes me want to scream at an annoyingly high pitch. Cancer makes a lot of money, too. Shall we shout that from roof tops as well?

Apparently, Houston arts bring in some $626.4 million into the city’s economy. We eat before, during and after a show. I know I do. That’s great, it’s a benefit and a handy fact to have in your pocket. If you want to delve deeper, read The Value of Culture: on the relationship between economics and the arts, edited by Arjo Klamer. Diane Ragsdale, ofJumper, understands the dilemma well in her numerous blog posts addressing these issues.

If I hear about another expensive study on the impact of the arts on the economy, you will hear an even higher pitched scream. We have enough of these. And yes, they were crucial in getting arts funding included in the stimulus package, an impressive effort organized by  Washington, DC-savvy  Amy Fitterer, the new executive director of Dance/USA. I understand that making it clear to lawmakers that the arts provide jobs and are good for business is important, but it gets tricky when we leave it there.

John Kay gets it right in his essay A good economist knows the value of the arts

“The surveys on my desk are expensively commissioned because their sponsors perceive a language they detest and do not understand. We need to put out of our minds this widely held notion that there is such a thing as “the economy”, a monster outside the door that needs to be fed and propitiated and whose values conflict with things — such as sports, tourism and the arts — that make our lives agreeable and worthwhile. Activities that are good in themselves are good for the economy, and activities that are bad in themselves are bad for the economy. The only intelligible meaning of “benefit to the economy” is the contribution — direct or indirect — the activity makes to the welfare of ordinary citizens.”

Here’s the rub. If we only talk about art in terms of the other things it can do, help kids learn things and make money, we are essentially devaluing art itself. That’s the message loud and clear. I am by no means suggesting we ignore the fact that the arts contribute to the economy or that children can learn all kinds of ideas through movement, the visual arts, music and theater.

We just need to stop thinking it’s all we got. It’s two fabulous things for our toolbox. But does it come close to the ecstasy, elation, illumination, emotion, soul-enriching mind-expanding mystery we can feel from an art experience? No way, no how.

What if we had a cultural policy in place that stated that we value what the arts contribute to our lives. That simple. We want to live in a world with arts and will do what it takes to ensure that continues. Oh, and by the way, the arts generate money and oftentimes learning. We can count dollars and test kids. But measuring how the arts make our life richer? That’s tough. It can’t be done in a qualitative way.

Who here wants to live in a world without art. Anybody? I didn’t think so.

The arts have value. Say it, believe it, lead with it.

Stepping off the soap box now as I wish you a happy holiday.

Reprinted from Culturemap

 

 

In Cuba, even the cabbies know their ballet: Highlights from Havana’s International Dance Festival

Carlos Acosta in Two by Russell Maliphant

Photo courtesy of the International Dance Festival

I had good intentions of making it to the 22nd International Dance Festival in Havana, Cuba this year, but alas, I got overwhelmed with the details. Lucky for me, my colleague, Toba Singer, an expert in Cuban dance, did not. Singer contributes to Dance Magazine, Dance Europe,Dance Source Houston and other publications, is the author of First Position: a Century of Ballet Artists and is currently at work on a new book,Fernando Alonso: The Art and Science of Ballet, due out in September of 2011. As the mother of Houston Ballet demi soloist James Gotesky, Singer visits Houston often. She brings us the highlights of her recent trip.

CultureMap: How best to describe the Cuban ballet style?

Toba Singer: It’s the best of the Italian (Cecchetti), French, English and Russian (Vaganova) schools, with a little tropical heat thrown in for good measure.

CM: Can you give us a flash history of how Cuba became a hotbed for ballet?

TS: Alicia and Fernando Alonso went to New York after studying with a Russian emigré named Yavorksy in Cuba. There they danced with several companies, most importantly, Ballet Theatre, now called American Ballet Theatre (ABT). When BT ran aground financially in 1948, they returned to Cuba with Fernando’s brother, Alberto (who had danced with Ballet Russe-Col. de Basil) and built a company that they toured around the island and all over South America — in spite of Batista making things difficult for them.

When the revolutionary government came to power, Fidel Castro visited Fernando at his home and promised him twice the budget he needed, as long as the company was “a fine one, with members from all of the Americas including the U.S.” This was the case until the trade embargo was imposed nine months later by President Eisenhower, and travel restrictions were added by President Kennedy, and the dancers from the U.S. had to leave. A happy combination of Alicia and Fernando’s training and experience in the U.S. plus the government’s unqualified support have resulted in one of the best companies in the Americas.

CM: Houston audiences fondly remember Carlos Acosta (Houston Ballet principal dancer 1993-1998). In your mind, what makes him an extraordinary dancer?

TS: Carlos Acosta is as genuinely warm, expressive and dynamic as ever. We ran into each other in Alicia Alonso’s front office where he was catching up with Alonso’s aide de camp, Fara Teresa Rodriguez, who once mentioned to me that she had worked side by side with Che Guevara. For me, what makes Carlos an extraordinary dancer are his physical “conditions” as the Cubans would put it, his airborne jumps, burnished turns, and forceful presence. Most important, though, is his authenticity. He is the opposite of the foppish 19th century ballet partner. Instead, he is truly  ”Carlos from the block,” which is how I described him in my 2007 book, First Position: a Century of Ballet Artists.

CM: What do you mean by “Carlos from the Block?”

TS: Jennifer Lopez once made a music video called “Jenny from the Block.” In it, she presented herself as a Bronx girl to counter the music diva image that the spin artists had sold the public on. Lopez is from a Puerto Rican family. Puerto Rico is regarded by some as the sister island to Cuba, so when I think of Carlos and his struggle with the identity that was foisted upon him when he left Cuba and became a ballet star as opposed to a ballet dancer, I feel quite certain that he prefers to think of himself as “Carlos from the block.”

CM: Tell us about his dancing now.

TS: Today, Carlos looks as stunning as you remember him, but he recently had surgery on his foot. The solo he performed at the closing gala required no jumps or pyrotechnics, but nonetheless showcased the sculptural movement for which he is so admired. He is one of those dancers who can stand perfectly still and yet exude tremendous energy.

CM: I hear Acosta’s nephew Yonah Acosta has promise. Can you fill us in?

TS: Yonah Acosta has grown into a tall, well-proportioned, slim adult male dancer. In spite of the promise he showed early on, he has been promoted very slowly and is now the equivalent of a demi-soloist. He is given the most challenging of men’s roles, and he acquits himself in them with the same “wow” factor that runs in his family. At the festival, the audience cheered his having taken flight in Sleeping Beauty‘s “Bluebird” variation. His elevation and turns are breathtaking.

CM: How did ABT go over in Cuba?

TS: ABT’s Theme and Variations, while “pretty,” lacked verve and the crescendo quality that most educated audiences have come to expect (and the Cuban audience is nothing if not well-versed). However, the Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux, performed by Paloma Herrera and David Hallberg, met with a rousing ovation, and the audience went bonkers when soloists of New York City Ballet danced Who Cares?, especially the segments danced by Tyler Peck, who is in every corpuscle a Balanchine babe.

CM: What kind of reception did ABT’s José Manuel Carreño get?

TS: Carreño was welcomed warmly by everyone. The word on the street is that he is at the point of retiring, and that readiness is in evidence in the lower pitch of his dancing. I think it may have been harder on him to return to the demanding audiences in Cuba than it was for the Cubans to receive him, but he looked happy to be there, and the Cubans cheered and clearly claimed him as one of their own. I have since learned that he accepted an invitation to remain in Cuba for several weeks after the festival to work on a program that one of the other ballet companies will be performing.

CM: Tell us about the kind of hardships that the Cuban dancers have to deal with.

TS: They could use more pointe shoes, and ABT generously donated them to the Ballet Nacional as well as to Pro-Danza, Laura Alonso’s company. They complain of small dressing rooms, (but don’t dancers in other countries have that complaint?) and limited rep, but they don’t complain about the beautiful ballet building in which they trained and the constant care they receive from an army of physical therapists, nutritionists and teachers who follow them from the beginning of their training through to the apex of their careers — both personally and professionally.

CM:  Is it true that even the cab drivers know about ballet?

TS: Yes, the cab drivers can name all the dancers and what roles they have danced. It’s similar to how here in the U.S. ours can tell you about baseball players and their batting averages. Drivers also point to a relative who has studied ballet. Everyone seems to have one.

CM: You have forged this relationship with Alicia Alonso and her former husband, Fernando. How did that come about?

TS: I knew of Fernando and Alicia through a friend who made a film about Alicia in the 1980s. Knowing that I was interested in the Cuban pedagogy, several years ago Lorena Feijoo, a principal with San Francisco Ballet, suggested that I write a book about Fernando Alonso, the architect of that pedagogy. He was 91 at the time, and there was only one book (in Spanish) about him.

CM: What one event/performance proved the highlight of your recent visit?

TS: This is truly a Sophie’s Choice question because there were several. The most unforgettable was Mozart á 2 by Thierry Malandain (Paris Opera) danced by the astounding Silvia Magalhaes (of Portugal) and Giuseppe Chiavaro (of Italy), members of the Thierry Malandain Company of Biarritz. It was a contemporary piece in which Chiavaro especially demonstrated complete virtuosity and concentration, while never for one second losing touch with his partner or the audience. It was a pleasure and privilege to interview him and several other dancers in the festival.

CM: Do you foresee a time when we can easily go back and forth to Cuba?

TS: Many presidential administrations contributed to the embargo. President Eisenhower imposed a trade embargo in October 1960. President Kennedy’s Foreign Assistance Act added travel restrictions. President Carter relaxed the travel restrictions for one year. Then under President Clinton, the Helms-Burton bill added sanctions for third-party countries that traded with Cuba. Bush tightened the restrictions with the Trading with the Enemies Act, and under President Obama, those restrictions have been enforced to the letter of the law.

It seems that there are few people in the U.S. who see any advantage to the embargo. It is cruel for the Cubans because the economic trade sanctions prevent Cubans from receiving critical supplies and equipment. Laura Alonso told me that they could make their own pointe shoes if they could just get the glue. Perhaps our political leaders don’t want us to see what Cuba was able to accomplish, even in the face of hardships imposed by the U.S. and the inevitable errors they made while they were following certain Soviet planning models. When you compare the atmosphere in Cuba to that in Mexico today, you have to wonder why it is we can visit one and not the other.

CM: What keeps you returning to Cuba?

TS: My book. Also, It’s hard to resist their warmth, love of dance and music — not to mention a climate that is very friendly to dance-worn joints — and there are no commercial billboards, shrill pre-election campaign rant ads, hyperventilating TV Christmas shopping commercials or traces of industrial pollution.

Reprinted from Culturemap.