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Steven Wistrich, Artistic Director, and Elizabeth Wistrich, Resident Choreographer, of City Ballet of San Diego know the importance of bringing in extraordinary teaching talent from the upper firmaments of ballet heaven. These teachers offer a fresh viewpoint and other ways to approach dance.

Outstanding ballerinas and danseurs can generally be divided into broad categories such as “bravura,” “dramatic,” “heroic/heroine,” “virtuoso,” or “lyrical.” While most great dancers are accomplished in more than one sphere - each tends to excel in a particular style. But one ballerina in particular doesn’t quite fit snugly into a category and thus one hears when her name is mentioned: “and then there is Gelsey Kirkland.”

Transcending all of these categories - on a misty mountain by herself - she took us to her own special magical place. But if one had to pick a category in which she excelled - she was a lyrical ballerina in every sense of the word - a poem of dance.

A prima ballerina is a rare jewel, a lyrical prima ballerina the rarest of the jewels. Kirkland was such a rarity. Many who read this will have seen her as she starred in the Nutcracker with Mikhail Baryshnikov which has been shown on television since 1978. As a principal dancer with New York City Ballet, American Ballet Theatre and as a guest principal dancer with The Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, London, she inspired choreographers George Balanchine, Jerome Robbins, Anthony Tudor and John Neumeier to create major ballets for her. Balanchine described her as a hummingbird.

Illness, injury and personal challenges interrupted and shortened her performing career. However, she has since taught, coached and set ballets such as the major production of Sleeping Beauty for American Ballet Theatre in which she undertook the character role of Carabosse - the wicked fairy.

In the 1980’s I attended a performance of La Sylphide in which Kirkland was partnered with the late Patrick Bissell. It was an evening that lives indelibly in my mind. As the Sylph steps through a tall paned window, pauses on the sill, one foot crossed in front of the other, her hands delicately framing her face - it was the kind of magic moment for which one attends the theater; the mystery of a ballerina as she graces and takes possession of the stage. One is reminded why the royalties of France, Denmark and Russia fell in love with the ballet.

On July 30, 2008, I was invited to observe a class taught by the ballerina who was that Sylph - who is still a vision in my mind. She permits no interviews, but simply watching her teach was a treat.

The Setting

City Ballet’s studios are entered through - literally - a hole in a wall in an alley - up a flight of enclosed stairs with the prospect of what awaits at the top invisible. A warren of offices, lobby and studios all overrun with young people in various stages of ballet attire; lots of bustle and anticipation.

Approximately 30 dancers, intermediate and up, crowded into a studio already sultry. The number of observers was strictly limited - approximately ten - with chairs ranged around a front corner of the room. Upon taking a seat, one adheres to an unspoken protocol - silence throughout the duration of the class and no moving about to distract teacher or students in any way. The class was two hours in length.

Steven Wistrich graciously introduced Kirkland, welcoming her back and complimenting her on the positive effect of her teaching in previous engagements with City Ballet. The ballerina is a petite lady with a strong voice that easily cuts through the piano as well as the sound of jumping bodies responding to gravity. Attired in clunky black shoes - much like heavy duty walking shoes - loose black trousers, a black shirt with a loose white shirt on top, one would think that she was too covered up to see the beautiful ballerina beneath. But - it would be wrong to come to that conclusion.

This sublime dancer could not be hidden by her everyday clothing. I could easily discern the regal ballerina in a white tutu dancing Balanchine’s Theme and Variations with Baryshnikov to Tchaikovsky’s sweeping music. The Sylph of La Sylphide was there, too. The way she stood, the direction of her eyes when she moved, the grace of her arms, the flow of that grace into her fingers - had she been fully veiled - that grace would have shown through. Nothing could hide it.

Performing is about preparing oneself to communicate with an anonymous audience. Teaching is about - all about - communicating one on one, even in a classroom setting; from teacher to student. For a prima ballerina to make the transition from one state to the other is to turn herself inside out and find within a new persona, a new vehicle through which to communicate. For the student - no matter the level of accomplishment - being under the eye of a legendary ballerina is daunting. One is constantly tempted to simply stop and watch because when such a dancer teaches - it’s a ballet.

Kirkland presents the most lyrical ballet class I’ve seen in a long time. She continuously emphasized the coordination - she called it “organization” -between the hands, fingers, direction of gaze and inclination of head. Most ballet classes - and therefore students - are very much caught up with degree of turnout, leg extension, height of jump, - and while to an extent this is necessary - it is not the final goal. To Kirkland it isn’t dance until the eyes, arms, fingers - dance. She puts the beauty back into the art form - gives it the importance it originally had. Though her own dancing was technically as perfect as one could get - she obviously considered that secondary to the element of living beauty which is the imprimatur of a true classical lyrical ballerina.

She said:

“Create a world for people in the audience.”

“Plan ahead to look where you want the audience to see.”

“Eyes and fingers open at the same time. Open out the space around you.”

“Look like you are looking at something amazing and everyone will want to know what it is.

“See a light at the end of a tunnel.”

“Your fingers are like your eyes, they have to “see” too.”

“The hand-eye relationship is like a beautiful mystery.”

“Your spirit has to come through your arms.”

“Draw the line with your fingers.”

She did not neglect technique, but placed it within the context of supporting the presentation. “Line of sight” was dissected into various diagonals (left/right, lowered, erect, lifted), but as important was that the eyes be open - seeing - truly seeing - and therefore engaging the audience.

When she demonstrated - no matter the tempo - she presented a complete picture - her eyes open - her spirit coming through her arms, her

Gelsey Kirkland photographer Dina Makarova ©

fingers drawing the line. For those students able to incorporate her ideas, the result was striking. Suddenly, they weren’t simply dancing - they were alive and dancing.

I would very much have liked to approach Kirkland at the end of class to thank her for the many joys her dancing gave me - and the imperishable memory of a sylph stepping through a window, pausing for a moment - which for me has lasted a lifetime. But I dared not. Instead I left a card for her with a painting I did of Prima Ballerina Assoluta Mathilde Kchessinskaya - and a word of thanks for the joy her dancing brought to me.

The Class

Before the first plié, Kirkland set the opening of the arm, adding a lyrical element to the usual bras bas to devant to a la seconde. It was only when this was achieved did she go on to set the plié exercise.

In tendu, she stressed separating the parts of the foot as it stretches out and then returns; “Massage the floor. When you extend into tendu, be a lion with a big claw.” The reach of the arm from the rounded devant to allongé is not so much a straightening of the arm, as “stretching out of the fingers.”

The second tendu exercise included instruction for “diagonal line of sight” for eyes and inclinations of the head: right/left, up/down, front, effacé/ecarté, with corresponding arms. Thus she added to the Cecchetti School head positions (lifted, erect, lowered, turned and inclined) to include three different levels for each inclination.”

She wanted balance tested by letting go of the barre in the degagé (battement glissé), pas de cheval, but her continuing emphasis throughout was “line of sight.” Some students began immediately incorporating this important element, but others remained glued to their image in the mirror. One shouldn’t therefore assume the instruction was lost; it may simply take time for the student’s understanding and ability to incorporate it. In the rond de jambe a terre and en l’air she wanted balance checked as each rond was completed - a splendid idea.

None of the exercises - either barre or center - were complex in composition, the complexity and the challenge was her insistence on a total picture; planning ahead the choreography for the head, arms, fingers and eyes. She also varied the tempo at which this all occurred; sometimes the arms flowing from position to position, and sometimes arriving as an explosive finish. She discussed the “primary focus” when in balance, the body being “organized” with a slight opening of the ribs while the navel is pressed against the spine.

In fondu, the timing of the working and supporting leg - opening and closing together was demonstrated; an often overlooked component in this particular exercise. In fact, it is this element which makes this exercise valuable. In addition, as with everything - everything - Kirkland, wanted all the port de bras, head inclinations and corresponding line of sight - planned out and shown.

She also spoke about “having somewhere to go.” If the head is constantly lifted - it can’t go up higher. However, if it starts down it can move through many degrees before reaching its final height. This is true of arms, which she demonstrated in port de corps - going front, recovering to vertical, and then instead of going straight into the backbend, moving forward a little and then back. This adds a lyrical movement and becomes a dance rather than a back stretch at the barre.

The adagio was a study in effacés and ecartés, which opened new possibilities for the arm/head/eyes/fingers choreography. She constantly reminded the dancers to plan ahead - pick their focal points, but wanted this done with subtlety. Her flow of energy instruction continued into the leg stretch - heel in hand - segment saying: “Drive the energy down through the supporting leg.”

Kirkland corrects the class fairly extensively between right/left execution of the exercise. Though corrections are given to the group, rather than individually, she praises both group and individually. The class is a positive one; I didn’t hear any negative admonitions.

The center began with a lyrical adagio and the visual instruction: “As you extend the leg, scoop out the energy.” Added to previous comments concerning “line of sight” was: “When you move the focus moves.” Adagio was followed with a tendu. Many teachers use this order of progression in the center, but it is not one I understand. Seems to me that just as at the barre, the sequence should be tendu first and then adagio.

She suggested using a stretched rather than a curved arm in front as preparation for pirouette. Baryshnikov, she told the class, turned with his arms en bas, using only his chest for power. The pirouette exercise she set combined en dedans and en dehors, ending in fifth position (a more difficult way to finish) rather than fourth. She wanted the hands to continue the movement after the pirouette - finishing the picture after the legs had come home. She described: “One arm opens the door to the pirouette; the other arm closes the door.”

Center continued with a gallop, en diagonal, of chassé coupé; a quick tempo of petit jeté, and chassé turns, and then a study in sissonnes.

As Kirkland demonstrated each sequence, albeit not fully executed in the legs, it was entirely fully realized in the presentation of her head/arms/eyes/fingers; like a Mozart symphony, fully realized at birth - complete. Class continued with a grand allegro including grand jeté, temps de fleche and grand assemblé. In the temps de fleche, she drew attention to the slight backward inclination of the upper torso.

Class finished with a port a corps front/back and a reverence followed by well deserved applause from students and observers.