Blog – Andrei Kramarevsky

 

Everyone called him Krammy. Just even saying his name that way brings a smile to my face and my heart brightens a bit more.

I wonder if teachers see the tremendous impact that they have on the multitude of students that move in and out of their classes. I wonder all those eager young faces just begin to fade into the ethers of the teachers mind over time.
But to those of us that have been touched by the heart and soul of a teacher will forever carry their grace, humor, knowledge, wit, skill, passion, charm, faith, and belief inside of us.
They may never know that their very being was such an inspiration to a young soul seeking something internal that is elusive, fleeting, and delicious.

Krammy was such a teacher.

His energy was so classically that of a Russian male, principal dancer. Powerful jawline, broad mouth, passionate eyes, muscles coiled like a Siberian tiger, and a fierce fire within that dynamic heart.

In general, I find the Russian soul more similar to the free-spirited American psyche. While wee are still very different, we share a passion for space and largeness. Russia is a huge country and America is also quite large.

I always noticed this energetic and vibrational similarity between the dancers in countries with vast spaces and how they would take over a stage and fill it up.
Then I would compare that to the RAD trained, Royal Ballet styles and expressions.
Great Britain is a small country, and they are fantastic with petite allegro (or the small jumps), the meticulousness of their footwork, and the delicate but subtle ways they moved their heads and hands.
But the Russians were known for their powerful leaps, never-ending pirouettes, and intense emotional bursts (both onstage and off).

I believe it is that similar feeling of expansive energy that the Americans and Russians so deeply share that bring so many Russians to America.

The Russian spirit was so powerful … that even under communist rule it was never completely stifled. They found outlets through the arts, music, writing, and (of course) dance.

The meticulous control of the English style was never my personal taste. It felt like navigating all the particular rules of meeting the Queen. It felt constipated to me, and I found myself often holding my breath trying to keep things small and tight.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have known many amazing Royal Ballet dancers and they do that style brilliantly.
But for me … dance is and explosion of breath, it is that powerful inhales that allow the body to fly into the air and leap over and through all obstacles. I danced to explode into the vastness of space and time. Dance for me way to expand beyond my body. Dance for me was a way to touch the stars. Dance was a passionate expression of what was inside that was forever trying to get out.

And that intensity that I felt inside was the same in the Russians. We could see it in each other’s eyes. The fires of passion could be shared, seen, and expressed without apology or reservation.

I always noticed that the Russian teachers at SAB and I were always in sync. Their classes were regimented but casually fun and there was much space and permission to try and fail, only to try again.
The Russians knew how to allow that freedom out even in a very structured and difficult class.
Their attitude was that class is where you try things out and it is the space to discover new skills and talents. Class is where you test the boundaries, sometimes fail, but then laugh when you are suddenly on the ground.

And that was why I loved, Krammy! His classes tested you in sequences and steps that at first seemed impossible until he showed you himself.
I was so lucky. Krammy left the Soviet Union in 1975 and began teaching at the School of American Ballet at that time.

I got there in 1976 and so he was the new kid on the block. He was in his late 40’s when I met him, and he had as smile that would make you feel safe and accepted.
His English was not the best but if you did not understand something, he would demonstrate!

His classes always started the same. He had a routine that he preferred to begin with and it was always the same for the 3 years that I was there.

We start facing the ballet barre. We were to do a plie, and a relevé, and bend slightly forward and then backward, keeping the head straight. Then do the same but turn your head to the right when you would bend backwards. Do the same again and turn the head to the left when you would bend backwards. Next plie and relevé but lift the heels and roll through the feet to loosen them up before you straighten your knees. Next port de bras to the right, then the left. Next plie and extend the right leg out to the side and bring your left arm reaching out the left, then up and center and then bend over the extended leg to the right. Next rond de jambe the right leg from the side to the back and stretch as far as you can bending forward, allowing the extention of holding the barre and the back extension of the leg to elongate your spine and hips. All the while, still holding onto the barre for support with the leg extended into a split but the front leg in plie. Repeat to the other side.
It continued from there. The entire barre was the same, well-planned, perfectly structured, and it allowed the mind to relax and the body to warm up and stretch in all the best of ways.
It was so planned that one day, Krammy was late for class. We did not know why his was late, but we all decided to start the class without him because we knew what we were supposed to do.
I remember being the instigator, enrolling everyone to just begin and surprise him.
So, I asked the pianist to begin playing and that is what we did.
By the time Krammy came rushing into the studio, a bit flustered and obviously stressed, he literally stopped as he came in the door astounded to see all of us doing exactly what we were supposed to be doing.

Instantly a smile as big as Russia exploded on his face with pride and recognition that we knew what was expected of us and we were ready and willing to do it without any external prompting.

He dropped his ballet bag, and never even got his dance shoes out. He did the whole class in his sandals. He instantly began correcting us and clapping his hands to the music while stomping his foot for effect.

All of us in class could not help but smile and giggle. And he enjoyed our respectful but teasing way …we let him know he was late.
Krammy was the most amazing teaching the men. He was (after all) a principal male dancer from the Bolshoi Ballet. It was common for him to demonstrate for the men by doing 8 or 9 pirouettes and finish with a series of double tour en l’airs in sequence back-to-back. I think I saw him do 8 of them in a row. Double tour, double tour, double tour, etc. Eight times. It was insane. Effortless, easy, light, and dynamic all at the same time. Perfectly placed and he barely moved off his original place on the floor.
He was endlessly funny and light-hearted in his approach. He showed us that all effort can appear effortless. He was the epitome of composure and power. He showed that ballet is a lifestyle … not just an art form.
He showed me that the grace and confidence of a dancer lives on forever. That skill is earned, that power comes from repetition. And that passion is the fuel that inspires us to be great.

Thank you Krammy! We all miss you … still.

~Suzanne Wagner~