Balanchine – Rejection and the Ledge

Balanchine was a Master of Dance and inside New York City Ballet, he was a master of contradictions. His history is peppered with very challenging events that would have taken a smaller soul down. But somehow, he found ways to turn those moments into art.
I was to learn that this is the signature of all great artists.
While parts of his story were known to me … much of him was a great mystery. After all, I was young.
I believe he used that to his benefit.
He always wore sunglasses into the studio to watch dancers. That way, you could not tell who he was looking at. It always put the dancers on edge because of that.

In 1976, when I arrived on the scene of SAB, Suzanne Farrell had just returned to New York City Ballet after her conflicts with Balanchine had forced her to quit and to go dance in Brussels with Maurice Bejart for six years. When she was the darling in Balanchine’s eye, her nickname at the school was the “giraffe” because of her long legs and long sinewed neck.

I had always loved Suzanne Farrell because we were born on the same day, August 16^th. And that first year the teachers started calling me the “little giraffe”, I thought that was the hand of destiny pointing out my path forward with New York City Ballet.
With Suzanne Farrell back in the fold, I was excited to see her in person and to watch and hopefully be able to mimic her movements as we were both tall and long-legged.

There was never a warning when Balanchine walked in, all the girls got very nervous, and it would throw them off their legs and balance because suddenly they were trying too hard. He was very old when I was there and there were rumors that his health was not good. In the later years, his health would become even more challenging.

When he walked in the room, I decided to play the game differently than the other girls. Rather than become a “Nervous Nelly”, I decided to play a magical game to see if I could control his actions through my intentions, focus, and radiance.

I picked a dance sequence that was given by the teacher that I liked and that I knew I did well. I would say in my mind (with tremendous power and focus), “Balanchine! You will see me! You will look directly at me right now! You will be amazed by me!”
Amazingly it worked! And I would suddenly see Balanchine ever so slightly turn his head in my direction. As I always stood in the back corner on the left … such a movement was more noticeable.

And if a dance sequence was not my best thing and I was not very good at it, I would say in my mind, “Balanchine, don’t look at me. I am invisible to you right now. You will not see me at all? You will look at others for this sequence.” And I would drop that magnetic force that exuded from my body, and I would pretend to be invisible. In those moments he would never look in my direction.
That is how I learned to be invisible and visible on my own terms and on my command rather than theirs.
This skill would come in very handy on many occasions that were very dangerous, as well as more positive performing moments. I learned to let those that I wanted to see my light into my magic bubble and in doing that I used the force of my intention to make the power inside my being become very bright.
And later in my life, there would be very dangerous situations in Berlin and Suriname where knowing how to become invisible would come in very handy.

Even many years later during my professional career, people would come up to me at receptions and tell me almost in a clandestine, secret whisper, that they only come to see certain performances if I was performing that role.
I took that as the great compliment that it was.
Those people could see that something inside of me expressed a particular type of light and energy and they knew that they were drawn to it. Evidently in certain roles that light shone brighter.
I understood completely what they meant and what they were seeing because inside myself, I too felt something even more magical than myself take over and weave its way into my being to make certain characters, certain moments, and certain dances … special.
I want to say once again, that while I might not have been the most technically brilliant person, what I did have was an ability to captivate an audience and to allow them to feel the emotions that I intended to powerfully show and express.
I think I carried a quality that was a type of intimacy, an invitation of sorts. I created a doorway for an audience (or parts of that audience) into a very sacred part of my soul, understanding fully that not all would see it, not all would appreciate it, and not all would even understand it. But I hoped that it sparked them internally in some way that gave a lasting impression and maybe opened them or changed them for the better.
About 10 years after I retired from Ballet West, I was furniture shopping, and I went into a major furniture store. I was wandering around looking for something when I noticed an employee watching me intently with a feeling that seemed in awe and that they were almost in a suspended state of admiration. At first, I wondered if he thought that I was going to steal something and so I turned to him and gave him a smile and made a comment such as, “I am looking for a sofa, perhaps you can help me decide.”
At which point he comes running over to me and says, “I know who you are! You are Suzanne Wagner the dancer with Ballet West! I have watched you throughout your career! You were so wonderful as a dancer. Just marvelous! It was a terrible loss when you retired. Nothing was ever the same again!”

Stunned, I smiled and in an almost embarrassed way I said, “Wow! That was a decade ago. I can’t believe you remember me from that long ago. It feels like a lifetime ago to me. But thank you so much! You just made my day!”
That moment made me very happy because in my generation, video, and film were in their infant stage unless you had a television camera crew at your disposal. While I have some photos, they are few and often do not capture the power and energy that video now has.
Yet, I am grateful for those moments on stage because I learned so much, I grew in ways I did not know were possible, and I believe I made an impact that had the power to reach through time and space to hopefully allow my next lifetime to be one of ever-expanding potential.

But even as a young dancer in New York City, I intuitively knew that energy followed intention.
I knew that if I could keep my mind completely focused and on track … then the strength of my intention would allow an energy to move out from my body that was electric, magnetic, and … magical.
I could feel inside how it would be possible to become both poles of the magnet and generate my own electromagnetic field around my body.
I knew that I could attract what I wanted towards me … in each and every moment … if … I had enough strength in my concentration and focus.
Such a skill was tremendously demanding and challenging to acquire. To hold that type of focus and to manage to dance at the same time, was extremely difficult.

What was so interesting is that when I focused that way, I forgot to worry about steps and sequences. When my mind was out of the way, the dance flowed from me effortlessly.
When I focused on the magnetism of myself, and in the dance, then the dance became graceful and joyous.
When I focused on “doing it right” I made mistakes and felt as if my soul and my body were somewhat confused and missing a key piece.

I also learned that one could not play at this level of magic, from a place of intentionally wanting to harm another, or to demand what I wanted.
I was told by angels and guides, that I could and should … only direct that energy outward from my own body, but that I should never direct that energy negatively into another’s body. I was told that such a thing was black magic and held terrible and very negative consequences for my soul.

I kept experimenting with new ways that I could expand my own energy in a loving and inclusive manner so that I could infuse my lifeforce into the space, the classroom, and the theater if I wanted.
In truth, I wanted to expand it into the whole world.
I could draw others to look in my direction because my focus created a sparkle that caught the eye and allowed them to focus their intentions and energy towards me.

That is where real magic gains momentum rapidly and something much bigger than me awakens, becomes alive, and invites others into the … dance.
In such moments, we all become one. The audience gives me their energy and I use that energy to show them how to “dance for their lives” … rather than plod through this reality.

The angels made it dramatically clear to me (when I was very young) that intentionally manipulating others without their permission was never a good thing. But when one inspires others to feel into and express their highest self, that is a form of permission.
I understood that the light within my body had to become so bright that it became a force that flowed out of me, touched others, and ignited their dreams, their wonder, and their delight.
I loved this way of dancing because then it is never about me personally, it is about how much light I can hold, contain, channel, and direct outwards towards something that we could co-create in that moment … together.

Dancing is a lifestyle where one is constantly being evaluated and those evaluations are very literal. At the end of each summer program at SAB, we were given evaluations. Such things are nerve wracking on every level. Especially when one is young and so very idealistic.
Just because we think we are doing well does not mean that others see it that way.
Being elevated from group 5 to group 6, the second year at SAB was unheard of. It was never done as far as anyone knew. I have never heard of another dancer who had that opportunity. And while there probably are many out there that have since experienced it, at that time it was rare.
So, I got the chance to be two years in level 6. The first year at level 6, I was the worst one in the class. But by the second summer in 1978, I knew that I was the best in that class. I breezed through combinations and felt untouched and untroubled. Everyone was telling me that I was going to be accepted into the apprentice program because I was clearly better than the other young women.
But I was about to learn the pain of my ego shattering, and the dream (that I had faithfully believed in) … being destroyed.

It was the end of the summer cycle in 1978, and girls were going in for their evaluations. I was excited because I believed I had good news. The teachers loved me. I was in the best shape of my life. I was ready, willing, and able to take that next step.
I wanted to be an apprentice to New York City Ballet. I believed that I had a shot at such an opening. I felt confident and the constant feedback I was getting was very positive from the teachers.
I felt at a peak in my abilities, and I was 17 years old and believed that the world was my oyster.
I walk into my evaluation with Suki and Mr. B. sitting behind the desk.
They offered me to sit down, and I was all smiles, exuberant and excited.
Balanchine looked at me through those sunglasses and he said, “Suzy, you are a beautiful dancer. But I just hired Baryshnikov to join New York City Ballet, and he is very short. I have very few short girls to dance with him and so I am going to hire short dancers this year to be in the corps to be on stage with Misha, I am sorry. I do not have an opening this year for you. But you should go to Europe to dance. They will love you there. I am sure you will have a wonderful career in Europe, and I wish you well. All the teachers loved having you as a part of the program. Good luck!”
I sat there too stunned to move. I was numb and cold from head to toe. I did not know what just happened. All I can hear in my head is him say, “I am sorry. I do not have an opening this year for you.”
I do not remember getting up and leaving. I am not sure if I said anything. There are moments in time when you gap out completely and time stops. It is as if your brain cannot compute what is happening and the whole thing turns into a blue screen on a computer.
Eventually, my brain begins to come out of shock. I can begin to hear my thoughts over the screaming in my head. The screams slowly turned into a wail, which eventually turned into a sobering sob and then a painful lament.
I am terrified, and grief stricken. My dream of becoming a New York City Ballerina is gone. It was a dream I had carried for a decade and now in one instant … it is over!
I hear my father’s voice in my head say, “If you don’t get into New York City Ballet, then you have to come home and go to college!”
That thought felt like death to me. In that moment, I would have rather died than go back to Dallas and go to college! And that was a very serious and sobering thought. I could not imagine not becoming a professional dancer. It was everything to me!
Somehow, I go to Irina Kosmovska’s class, traumatized and in tears. I go to my corner spot, and we start class. I am just trying to not sob in class. During the barre, I have tears silently falling down my face while doing the exercises, Irina notices and comes over and with the sweetest smile says to me, whispering in my ear so that it is a private conversation, “Suzy, there are other ballet companies besides New York City Ballet!”
But that only makes me cry more openly. Clearly, she knew who was going into the apprentice program and who was not.
Dismayed at my response, she continues around the class and eventually comes back to me and again, whispers, “Suzy, I am going to leave you alone for the rest of the class, but I want to talk to you after class.”
The rest of the class is a blur. Honestly, I don’t remember anything after that. I think my life is over. I think that everything I have worked so hard for was for nothing. I can’t comprehend that this is the end result of so much effort. My mind cannot grasp my world without ballet in it.
At the end of the class, I take my time getting my things together, so I am the last to leave the room. She is waiting at the door watching me intently. She takes my hand and says, “Let me talk to the other teachers and see if we can come up with a plan or another option for you. I will get with them today and we will have another conversation about this tomorrow. Go home and try to relax. You have to calm down. This is not the end of the world.”
I feel the warmth of her hands and the sincerity in her tone and the gentle understanding in her eyes. She means well and she knows how important this is to me.
But my mind is leaning dangerously into hopelessness. I am so emotionally exhausted from it all that I can’t feel my way through. I don’t know where to begin. I had already been attempting to do auditions since the beginning of that year. I thought it was good to practice being in an audition. But in big cities (which is where the big ballet companies are), auditions are like a cattle call. I had been to 4 of them, and I was shocked to see usually over 60 dancers applying as well. In each audition, I was putting on my shoes for class and someone in charge would come over to me and politely say, “Dear! You don’t need to put your shoes on for the audition. We are not interested in you. You may go now … please!”

In other words, they recognized that I was too tall, and they were not going to hire someone my height. The height limit in all auditions in their paperwork was 5 ft 7 in. I kept believing if they could just see me dance that I could change a few minds.
I understood why they were asking me to leave. When I am on point, I am approximately 6 ft 3 inches. In my generation of dancers, most men were not that tall. That meant that there would be no men for me to dance with or even stand next to.
Such moments are demoralizing. Especially, when one is excited and filled with hope and they do not even want to see me dance just because of my height.

I left SAB and headed home to the Swiss Townhouse. Again, that walk is a blur. I don’t remember it at all. Not until I get to my room and the girls in my area are all wanting to go out to the park (which was very close by). They invite me but I politely declined and said I was tired.
They when off, giggling and laughing. None of them knew what had transpired for me that day and I did not want to get into it with them.
I was embarrassed. I felt that I had failed. I did not want anyone to see my despair. I had learned a long time ago to keep my feelings to myself. My mother taught me how toxic it was to spew unresolved emotional chaos on others, and I had taken a sacred vow (when I was much younger) to never do that to another what she had done to our family.
After the girls have gone the space is quiet. The windows are wide open to let in a breeze from the humid and hot summer we were having.
The next thing I know, I am sitting on the ledge of the Swiss Townhouse looking at the sky, contemplating my life and trying to decide what to do. I know I don’t want to call my parents because my father would only be happy and vindicated. After all, he won! And I just could not face that in this moment. My mother would be upset, and I was afraid I would have let her down. She (at least) had faith and belief in me and had fought to allow me to get to New York each summer and had figured out conniving ways to take money out of our home’s escrow account to pay for my time there. It was something that my father would not find out about till the end of that year when the house payment increased because of it. I was embarrassed that she had tried everything she could to allow me to have this dream and somehow, my talent and effort had not been enough. I had failed her and I had failed myself.
Failure was never an option, at our house in Texas. My father was a perfectionist and demanded straight A’s and required me to take all the college prep courses such as elementary analysis, trigonometry, calculus, typing, shorthand, and office education. He was determined to make sure I had the skills to go to college. While I liked school and was good at school, that type of school was not what I wanted. I had wanted to dance in this life while I was young enough and able to. I figured my mind would always be smart but in ballet the body eventually fails, and most dancers would retire in their 30’s.
As I sat on that ledge, my mind wandered to the dark side. I did not want to live. I could not see a life without dance in it. There was no life. There would be no point to this life without ballet as far as I was concerned.
I sat on that ledge contemplating jumping. It seemed like a reasonable option. I was on the 5^th floor where there was a good-sized ledge. I was swinging my legs trying to look nonchalant because the doorman to the skyscraper apartment building across the street was looking at me oddly.
I smiled and waved to him. I did not want him to think I was crazy.
But I was crazy in that moment. I knew it. I just did not want everyone to know it.
I could feel this large part that did not want to face the grief I was feeling. I could feel this place that did not see a life ahead of me without ballet. I could hear the logic in my mind that things would just be simpler if I just jumped. Then I would not have to face my gloating father. I would not have face my friends with the truth that I had failed. I would not have to face the reality that all my dreams and ambitions were illusions.
That last one was the hardest. I could not accept that all the feelings I had throughout my dancing years were for not. I could not accept that all the sacrifices I had made, all the arguments with my father, all the tears I had shed to my ballet teachers in Dallas, all the synchronicity that had happened on so many levels where I felt some hand of the divine take mine and lead me through … were a lie.
I decided to stand up on the ledge to take that leap. As I was holding onto the edge of the window, looking down imagining seeing my smashed bloody body on the sidewalk, trying to gather up my courage to jump and end this suffering, when the ledge (where I was standing) suddenly filled with angels.
Now, I thought I was hallucinating! I had to blink the tears out of my eyes to make sure they were really there. With my free hand, I wiped the tears from my eyes but sure enough … the angels were still there.
They had cocooned me in a soft light with them. I was in a blue bubble. It was startling to see in the intense midday sun.
The angels were a blueish, cooling, color. They started talking to me, trying to give counter arguments to the toxic conversation I was having in my head.
They said, “It does not matter what others think. It only matters what you believe about yourself. Everything happens for a reason. This moment has a reason and a purpose.”
“And what is that!” I angrily retorted in my head!
They calmly replied, “That change is the nature of all things. All things end and new things begin. But what remains through it all is what you heart tells you. What does your heart tell you?
“That I was supposed to be a dancer!” I sobbed silently in my mind. “And Balanchine just took that from me!”
That is when they said, “Well, you aren’t going to let him win are you? He has done this to dozens of dancers. He makes women dream and then he destroys them. How many have died because of his predilections? How many dreams has he shattered? Are you going to let him do that to you? You were given many dreams. Dreams are different than delusions. Delusions require no interaction on your part. They live in the ethers and in the mind exclusively. Dreams cause us to act, to stretch, to reach, and to become something more. You were given dreams and then you did the work. You are not delusional. You are not crazy. You are in grief! But grief passes if you let it. If you need to get mad … be mad at Balanchine! Be mad at the circumstances! But situations will always be unfair in this dimension. Do not be mad at yourself. Rejections from others does not mean you are not worthy. It just means that they cannot see it. You have to be stronger than the projections that others lay on you. You believe your height is a problem. It is a problem if you let it be a problem for you. If you want to dance and you are too tall, you need to be able to stand on a stage without a partner. You need to be stronger and braver than other girls. You are tall so you will always stand out, but the question now is … will you stand up and deal with what is in front of you. Without the courage to face the reality you will always be at the whim of directors’ images of perfection and choreographers’ ideas and projections. Do you want to be a puppet, or do you want to really dance?”
That is when I saw what they were trying to tell me. I had spent my life with others not believing in me. My father did not believe in me. At times my teachers Ann and Bill in Dallas did not believe in me. And now, I was afraid of believing in me in this moment. It is easy to believe in yourself when you are on top. It is very hard to believe in yourself when you are at the bottom.
But what did I have? I had a fire inside that would not stop burning. I had a way of dancing and being on stage that was inclusive and empowering. I could bring others along on a wave of joyful celebration and into the wonder of movement and dance. That had to be worth something to someone. While I knew many dancers more talented than I, that did not mean that I did not have something to offer. I had to find a way to allow that gift to be expressed. I realized that I could not let others determine if I was done with ballet. I was the only one that could determine that moment and this was clearly not it!
I was a fighter, I had inside me a part that was not done fighting just yet. I knew that ahead of me was a long fight. One that I could not clearly see but I understood that if I allowed myself to break here in this moment, that the dream would shatter and scatter on the winds of fate. I was not yet willing to let my thread be snipped by the Greek Gods.
Just because I could not see the path did not mean that there was not one. Fate had thrown me a curve ball and I had been knocked to the ground, but I was not out. At least not yet.
That is when I stepped off the ledge and unbeknownst to me, a new life was about to begin.

~Suzanne Wagner~

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