Ballet West – Monica Mason and the Embodiment of Carabosse

 

I look at my life and I now can see all the foreshadowing that happened in perfect ways.
Those things that did not seem so important (at the time) were essential to what was going to come sometimes … years later.
Some of the smallest moments … ended up being some of the greatest gifts I have ever been given. And some of those moments were only one encounter, one evening, one bottle of wine shared, and one special exchange … artist to artist.

One such moment (for me) began with the principal dancer, Monica Mason, coming to dance with the Berlin Ballet.

Monica was a lovely woman, kind, gentle-spirited and very caring to other dancers.

One of the things I loved about being in the Berlin Ballet was the amazing guest dancers that flowed so easily through that world. We were exposed to so many styles, abilities, personalities, and archetypes.

Monica was one that I instantly felt a connection to … not from the fact that we were alike but in that way that she just naturally was.
What she was … was real, authentic, and approachable.

She came to perform with us and was not there long. Probably only one or two shows and honestly, I can’t remember what we performed with her.

What I do remember is her and I sitting with a bottle of wine and talking late into the evening about dance, different roles, and the responsibility of a dancer to allow for the inner personality to be revealed in unorthodox ways … whenever possible.

She also had a deep interest in the journey of healing that so many dancers neglected.
Her interests ranged from the understanding and detection of eating disorders … to the promotion of new techniques for physical therapy with dancers.
My experience of her was that while she lived in the traditions of the classics … she was deeply curious about taking risks and stretching the monotony of classics beyond the old tried and true ways, towards a more complicated emotional expression that gave more depth to characters that had been historically … more caricatures.
The conversation became much more interesting to me when she began to dive into the history of a character that she was famous for … Carabosse, in Sleeping Beauty.

This ballet was perfect on so many levels for the technique and abilities of the Royal, RAD trained ballet dancers of England.

It is a ballet that is so classically precise, that is can be almost … grueling.
It required meticulous footwork, rapid petite allegros, and characters from one end of the extreme to another.

On so many levels this ballet, could come across as saccharin sweet … to the point that you would want to throw up, if not played properly.
It is a perfect ballet from the standpoint that it is about good over evil, and that good will eventually triumph over that evil. A common theme in the old classics.

All the fairies in this ballet are happy, celebrating, joyous, and giving. Each fairy bestows gifts to Aurora. (The princess who will eventually prick her finger, fall asleep and slumber till true love finds her and awakens her with a kiss.)
But such a ballet needs to have a counterpoint. And that character needs to represent the darkness that lurks inside the heart and soul of each person. I must contain the energies of jealousy, anger, resentment, revenge, and that hunger for power. These aspects come into this ballet in the form of one character … Carabosse.

Monica was considered the reigning queen of this character. She was regarded as the best in the world.

But she did something that had never been done. She took a character that traditionally was danced by a gay man, dressed as an evil, ugly, twisted, and miserable witch. And instead turned this antiquated model on its head by taking (what had been) the wicked witch pattern and instead making Carabosse into a very powerful but very evil fairy queen, powerful in her own right.
Monica saw this character as so evil that she used her power to feed off those lower down and less than herself.
She believed that Carabosse used her magic to steal the energy of others … to make herself appear to be beautiful. But inside she was a shell that was hateful, jealous, resentful, wicked, and a treacherous fairy.

Monica played her as a fairy that did not care to play nice but instead would play to win … at any cost.

I listened riveted to her speak for hours on the research she had done around this character, the many versions that had been done over time and why. The desire to bring something with more depth and a character that embodied a deeper, darker, and more sinister … evil.

She did not play the character as some quirky, crazy, demented, man in a woman’s dress. But instead made her into an elegant character. One that was slick, sophisticated, smart, intentionally manipulative, and cruel in her almost sociopathic interpretation.
I watched her face change as she spoke about the character. I could see the character boiling below the surface of her personality. Moving through her even in that moment.
To her … Carabosse was an archetype that lived and breathed inside her being. She allowed this character the love and space to engage in the dance of existence and yet could still walk as a mist through time.

I had never seen such a transformation in a person that bordered on a type of transfiguration.
She emanated something that I had not seen in my life.
I could hardly explain it, but I was fascinated by the process of even watching it.

One knows when one encounters something unique. And one knows when one is in the presence of greatness.

She was magnificent, beautiful, dark, sinister, glorious, maliciously cruel, and yet understated and elegant.

There are moments when you realize that you are in the presence of some form of genius. One senses a merging of a human to an elemental.

Such a thing is precious and rare.

Yet, it is also intangible and elusive. It exists momentarily in our time but can never fully stay here.
It’s fleeting essence touches something within us that is ancient and very old. It activates within us a feeling that is familiar and … terrifying.
It lures us in and intends to peek into our nightmares and make them … real.

Such was the type of Carabosse that she was. And it was a perfect counterbalance to the sticky sweetness of the story of Sleeping Beauty.

One cannot understand the beauty and purity of a particular quality of light. Only if one has been thrown deeply into the despairing darkness of our own inhumanity … can we see the value of those places within shadow that actually feed our dreams and help us see beyond the patterns that the ego constructs in an attempt to keep us safe, numb, and just existing.

There is tremendous value in the embodiment of such characters. Carabosse was one of them.
Carabosse (to her) was the entire spectrum of the sinister places that most humans fear to go.
She was the epitome of what we refuse to see within ourselves. Her character intended to pull off the masks of the faces … in the audience. To reveal their own …. underlying … rot.
A toxicity created from the avoidance and misery that humans foster in their denial.

After that evening, I dreamed of being a Carabosse … at some point in time in this life.

But it was not something that the Berlin Ballet did at that time.
After that one conversation, I read every book on this character. I researched the creation of certain archetypes, where they originally came from and why they surfaced at certain times in history.
That one conversation activated that archetype within me and as my inner Carabosse awoke, she claimed me as her own and we began a process of integration, preparation, and accommodation.

I found my inner Carabosse fascinating, intriguing and empowering. I liked her.

Within me she was fearless. Within me she was a force for balance and deeper introspective awareness. Within me, she began to teach me how to embrace my fears and to stand up to those that wanted to live in La-La land. Within me she became a proponent of questioning the motives of others. She understood that what someone presents is not necessarily who they really are. And that one should always be wary of things that seem too simple.
And then she temporarily went to sleep.

She would return to awaken me to what she had tried to teach me. But what I was not quite yet ready to understand fully.
It would take many years.
I would get that opportunity to embody her fully. And I would see that so often … the world is not ready for the depth of darkness that lurks in the corners of the psyche of mankind.

That opportunity came during my time in Ballet West.

I was excited to learn that the director at the time, John Hart was going to bring this ballet to the company. I prayed for an opportunity to do this character.

Now, you have to understand, most dancers are not always thrilled about dancing a character role.

In large companies that can be seen as the mark of “death”. Meaning that you are not dancing as well as say … a younger dancer. When that happens, they begin to put you in character roles to slowly move you from one position in the company to another. Such a change is often a hint that you might be looking for a job somewhere else … and soon.

But I was at the top of my game.
At least that is what I thought!
I did not see this role as a step down.
I saw it as a dream coming true!
Sure enough, the door opened, casting went up and … Low and Behold … I was first cast for Carabosse.

I was so excited! I could barely stand it.

Until I looked at the casting again and saw that they had for the second cast, the ballet mistress for the University of Utah, Bene Arnold.

Character wise … we were very different. I was much younger, and she was older. She was a type that was much more of a character dancer because of her age and look. I was a ballerina in the prime of my life.

I knew that we were going to have to present this character very differently for obvious reasons.

I wanted to do a Monica Mason, Carabosse, slick sophisticated, and evil to her core. A fairy that enjoyed torturing those other “puny” humans.

Bene would present the more classical version of the role, an evil, twisted witch, that would be more crazed … sort of funny … but not too emotionally scary for an audience of children.

Me?
I wanted to scare the crap out of the kids! I wanted to give them nightmares. I wanted to make the audience recognize that what they suppress, just might decide to feed upon them.
We were different. There would be no way to bind the two together because our visions were drastically antithetical.

Rehearsals became interesting. I would do my “Monica Mason” styled version, and then Bene would do her caricature version.
It was awkward. It was so challenging that I asked Denise Richards (the rehearsal directress) if I should do my character differently.
But she said she wanted me to do it my way.
At the same time, as I am battling the process of creating my character … I am also one of the Fairies (Enchanted Forest Fairy), and I am third cast for Lilac Fairy.

In Ballet West, I was a part of a group of women, “The Three Musketeers”. If one did one role, in one night … then the others took another. It rotated around that way.

In most cases this was great. If Pam Robinson was doing Lilac Fairy, then Mary Ann Lind would do the Enchanted Forest Fairy, and I would do Carabosse.
The next night, Mary Ann Lind would do Lilac Fairy, I would do the Enchanted Forest Fairy, and Bene would do Carabosse.

This way a dancer got a great role one night and then got an easier show another night.

Most of the time this worked fabulously!

But the role of Carabosse was kicking my ass. The conflicts between me wanting to do this role (that I had dreamed of for years) and a role that my ego was tremendously attached to, were in stark contrast to what Bene was doing and I did not see how they could work independently and yet together.

We were so different.

And she (being an older dancer) had her own ego attached to what she was creating as well.

Each of us believe in our version of the role and rehearsals for me were a nightmare of internal, emotional conflict and confusion.
It was so bad that I could not get excited about the role of Lilac Fairy. I had no emotional energy for those rehearsals. I had no physical energy either.
I did not even want to do those rehearsals.
I have to add in here that I had gotten chronic fatigue syndrome before this moment.
I had been infected with Mononucleosis that year, and no one knew that this could cause something unknown (at that time) and called later, “Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.
I was sleeping ten plus hours a night. I did not know what was wrong with me. And the stress of the situation with the undiagnosed illness was giving me panic attacks.
For me … the mental discipline that it takes to navigate all that … was taking its toll.

I felt super shitty but did not know why. I was seeing doctors, but they could not explain my symptoms and just kept saying, I was depressed. But I wasn’t depressed, I was exhausted.
The doctors insisted that exhaustion was the same thing as depression.

But to me they were not remotely the same.
I would later know that I was right.
In the middle of this immune system storm, we have the pressure of a full-length ballet that this company barely had enough dancers to do.
We are all learning multiple roles and there are huge amounts of pressure hitting us from many angles.

I go to a costume fitting, for Carabosse, and I have (what seems) a costume sculpted to my (lovely) dancer body.

Bene had a more mature body and so … once again, the costumes seemed to be in stark contrast.

No one told me that they were going to put a black, red, and green wig on me that would make me look like a deranged, crazy old woman.
No one told me in that fitting that my character that I had so carefully crafted would never work in this costume.
No one told me that they were going to put long, scary, cheap-looking, fake fingernails on my fingers.

No one told me that the director, John Hart, preferred Bene’s version of the character.
No one told me that the director wanted that type of distorted Fairy Tale – Wicked Witch character.

Not until I got to the dress rehearsal three days before the show … did I suddenly realize that my shapely costume had turned into a hag costume.
It had crazy things hanging off of it … making it look tattered like a street person or a something right out of the Wizard of Oz and the Wicked Witch of the West. (Actually, I would have preferred the Wicked Witches costume from the movie at that point.)

The only thing I didn’t have was a long fake nose.
I go out on stage to do my character and (need-less-to-say), my version falls flat on its face.

You can’t do a character that is slick and sophisticated … in a Hag costume. No matter how hard you try … you will look like an idiot.

And I was the idiot! I knew it! Everyone knew it!

I immediately go to talk to Mr. Hart. I asked for a meeting with him. He agreed and I sat down in his office and asked the question directly and honestly.

I said, “You and I both know that I went out in that Hag costume and my sophisticated character fell flat on its face. I need to know! Is this the costume? Can I change the costume?”

He sat with a smug look on his face and said, “Yes, that is the costume and No you can’t change it!”

“Okay!” I said,

“Tell me what you want this character to be in this costume because the character that I had so carefully crafted is not going to work”

He responded with his very English accent, “Well, dear! I know you like to play the woman dear. But in 1945, at the Royal Ballet, Carabosse was a gay man in drag. So, I want you to do it that way.”

Suddenly, my world began to spin!

I said, incredulously, “Let me get this straight. Are you saying that you want me … as a woman … to play this character and pretend to be a gay man in drag?”
His response, “Yes! Dear!”

I think to myself, “You have got to be kidding me? Seriously? That is insane!”

But instead of saying that, out of my mouth comes, “Why didn’t you cast one of the gay men to play this role instead of me?”
He said, “Well, Denise and Louie (the rehearsal Directors) believed in you dear! They thought you might have it in you. But that remains to be seen … doesn’t it!”
There is nothing … like the internal scream of an ego dying! Mine was so loud I could barely hear his words. I only wanted to smack him in the face and say, “Get real! It is not 1945 you old … demented egomaniac!”
I was wise enough to know that such a statement would probably get me fired.

I but my internal Kali had a vision of doing just that. The echoes of my confrontation with Richard Cammack were too close to the surface for rational thought.
And I needed to be rational rather than reactive.

Just because a choreographer or director wants something does not mean they always get it. Sometimes that do not know what they want. They are human also and can miss an opportunity that perhaps a dancer can see.

I had frequently done what I knew was a correct way to present a movement, a character, or choreography in a performance. Only to have them come backstage to congratulate me on doing something perfectly. They would be taking all the credit for my ingenuity and hard work to figure out what was more organic and chorographically fluid.
Perhaps I could figure a way to do that here.

But I was unsure.
After all, I was thrown off my normally strong center … for many reasons.

I am now struggling to find a door in a room from 1945, with a very closed and smug director who believed he knew everything about this character.

I smiled and said, “Okay! If that is wat you want, then I will need rehearsals for the next three days with Denise Richards to completely change my character to match what you want and what will work with this costume! Is that possible?”

He said that he would work something out with Denise.

I walked out the door and thought someone had dropped me off in the “Twilight zone.” I expected to hear the strange music, “G# A G# E, G# A G# E … with the whine of a tritone above it.
As I walked back into the theater, I knew I was done. While I had not burned the bridge this time, his statements had!

I knew that the clock was ticking and that I could not work for a person that would speak such an insane statement.

He was stuck in 1945. But I was not.
He was still playing out his fantasies of his glory days. I was getting tired of the games that egos play in the ballet world.
I could feel the joy slipping away from ballet. It felt like wax melting and the candle of ballet inside was about to go out. I knew it. And I believed he knew it too.

But my human self was not really ready to let go.

She was going to give it her best shot. And what a shot it was going to be.

For the next three days, in the private Carabosse rehearsals in the basement near the stage, all I could do was cry.

A character is a part of yourself … that you create from your bones. This one was a dream that had ensnared my senses for years.

That dream breaking felt like a part of me was dying.

In many ways … I would have rather died. It would have been less painful.
The Sufi’s have a saying, “Die before you die!” I understood the meaning of that phrase in that moment.

In tearing down such a powerful vision, I had to embrace the Hag within me. That was something that I did not want to face. I did not want to see myself as some washed up ballerina being tossed into the graveyard of character roles with no depth, no grace, and no potential.
There was no choice. I had to let go. I had to tear apart this lifelong construct that had so deeply inspired me. I had to go into an honest place of darkness that any young person would never want to tackle.

And yet, she was there … Waiting for me. Kali knew this witch very well.
We finally get to the opening night and I remember, saying to the dancers who would be interacting with Carabosse on her entrance, “I know you think you know what I am going to do. But honestly, I do not know what I am going to do until it happens. Be prepared for anything and everything!”
I remember Jeff Rogers looking at me in a sort of “Okay sister, Let’s see what you got!” stare.

And on opening night, I unleashed a tempestuous, dark, twisted, crazed, and crooked Hag that was designed to terrify everyone … if she would not get her way.
I did a performance … that while it was not remotely like Monica Mason, (and my dream of this character had died a torturous death), I would find the Hag within me that lurked in my own darkest corners and she would teach me a lot about the Goddess Kali, and not looking good. She would show me a part of myself that I never … ever wanted to embrace. And she showed me that healing is never kind, never peaceful, never easy, and never what we think.

In allowing her fully into my body, I shifted in profound ways that would give me the courage to eventually walk away from ballet completely. And in doing that … she would probably save my life.

I owe a lot to Carabosse. I owe a lot to the archetypes such as Kali that give me courage to face my darkest self.

I was to learn once again, how to integrate into another level of growth. One that would take me beyond the rules and confines of ballet and out into a magical world that waited for me just beyond that shattered mirror.
~Suzanne Wagner~