The Clash of the Titans of Ballet

I come out of the elevator and there is a buzz of excitement filling the hallways at the School of American Ballet.
All of the young dancers were so excited!
I have never seen the school quite in such a … dither.
The word was out! There were big stars in the studios!
At first all I heard was, that they were going to take Stanley Williams class.
“Who?” I asked.
One girl younger than myself said, Peter Schaufass, Peter Martins, Mikhail Baryshnikov, and Rudolf Nureyev are all warming up together in the studio.
Young borzoi-like girls were all crowding around the doorways that allowed entry into Stanley Williams class, along with a few windows that also allowed a peek into what was happening inside.
Every girl was trying to poke her head in the doorway. It was a circus of bubbly baby ballerinas wanting to get a chance to take a look at “real stars” in the ballet world.
Many girls were twittering outside the door, and you could tell that these “stars” of the ballet world knew exactly what was happening.
While this might be a class for these amazing principal male dancers … right now, this was a performance for the young dancers. And these male dancers knew it.
They were all smiling, laughing, stretching, and completely aware of the impact they were having in the space of so many stary eyed young women that were gazing longingly at the door.
The young male students (in the class) were trying very hard not to stare and had their best mature and competent faces on. You could tell they were very nervous, but they had a very serious look, and their concentration was heightened in this moment.
There was clearly an edge of tension in the studio.
They were in the presence of greatness, and they knew such opportunities were rare. Because they were not professional ballet dancers, these young men knew that having the chance to watch four very different principal male dancers in class would be an extraordinary moment.
They knew that this was a chance of a lifetime.

Many of the younger girls had to go off to classes as their classes started at the same time. I had more time this day as I had my big class in the morning, and I was waiting to have my Pas de Deux class which was after the men’s class. I had planned on sewing point shoes and breaking them in before the class, because a Pas de Deux class required a lot of point work and the shoes needed to be strong and solid under your weight for partnering.
I decided … once the throngs of ballerinas thinned out that I was going to go back and forth between sewing shoes and watching their class.
I knew that the beginning of the class as the barre would be less interesting because that is not where the fireworks appear in male dancing. But I knew that watching the center with all the jumping and turning would be spectacular.
I was looking forward to that!
I sat in the studio next door that was empty and sewed shoes as quickly as I could. Wanting to watch as the class continued to the center exercises.

What I did not know was that I was about to witness a game where powerfully talented men … subtly competed.
I was about to witness, the combined deference to Rudolf Nureyev by the other three male dancers.  I was about to witness the playful competition that men naturally need to engage in.

It was amazing to see such a magnificent chess match of understated elegance, intense competition, mixed with playful banter … always with the deferential icing of acknowledgment for the Grand Dame of the ballet world, Rudolf Nureyev.

Looking in the classroom, it was a feast of beautiful male bodies.

Peter Martins was elongated elegance, finesse, and charisma. He moved like a panther with grace and virtuosity. He was the crowned “King” of New York City Ballet, and he knew it. He had a statuesque elegance of a Michelangelo sculpture. He had that look of a classical male danseur.

Peter Schaufass was a Danish powerhouse of spins and perfect placement. He had an ease with his jumps that allows complicated things seem effortless. He knew how to fly and suspend time in the air. Because of his shorter and stockier frame, he displayed the power of a coiled spring inside with a grace bounce.
Mikhail Baryshnikov was playful, sincere, in this game of competition. It was clear that he was in competition with himself and no one else. He had a boyish charm and was a gentleman, respectful, kind-hearted, and generous. He was a study in technique and placement. His unpretentious smile could melt the hearts of every girl in the vicinity. While Baryshnikov and Peter Schaufass were the shorter of the four, Baryshnikov shined bright like the star that he was. He was currently the uncontested best male dancer in the world … at that time. He also was clearly the most relaxed in the space. He played the game and stood out by not appearing to play the obvious game in the room.

But Rudi was a type of star that refused to give up the limelight to anyone. He commanded the room and demanded the bulk of the attention in the space toward him.
He had a type of magnetism that refused to be invisible, and he had a type of hunger inside that I could feel and relate too.
While Rudi was like Baryshnikov … in that he did not have the perfect body compared to Peter Martins, Rudi knew that it was something inside him that made him great. And he knew that because he believed in that greatness, he demanded that others recognize it as well.
I knew that what was about to happen was going to be very interesting.
Stanley Williams was in rare form and was teaching a very complicated class that demanded many levels of expertise with playful combinations that teased the mind and tortured the body. It was a perfect class for these well-seasoned professional dancers. Exactly what they came to have and what they wanted to experience to test their mind and skills. One needs challenges at this level of dance and such great teachers are hard to find and are not always found in professional ballet companies (as I was eventually to learn). There is an eagerness from young dancers that I believe can bring out the best in teachers and certain teachers such as Stanly Williams, loved to cultivate and refine that youthful audacity into greatness.
Throughout the class, all of these men were appearing to humbly play a game of “King of the Hill.” During combinations and exercises they casually would bounce off each other.
Each knew what the other had as far as talent and skill. Each respected the other. But the winning ego was always going to be Rudolf Nureyev.
That was clear even to my young eyes.

It was clear to me even at 16 years old that Rudi had to win in any game of competition. It was just how he was built.
Everyone knew and studied the history of Rudolf Nureyev. Every dancer wanted to know how certain dancers make it while others don’t.
I knew, that as a student, Nureyev started late and because of that, his ferocious determination was what had made him, and shaped him to become a star. His huge ego was a part of his personality, style, and he loved to work that power and influence at every opportunity.
I could see by his dancing quality and the way he moved … that his Tarter passion was in there from the very beginning.

I was to discover (as I got older) that it would never leave him in this life.

Rudolf Nureyev was literally born on a moving train in the cold Russian winters. That was no accident. In his heart he was a nomad, a free spirit, and he refused to allow the projections of others to influence how he felt about himself, who he thought he was, or who he was going to become.
During the class, he would playfully banter with Stanley Williams, but it was with great respect and not rude in any way. He clearly liked Stanley Williams and used the torturous combinations to show off, flash his brilliant smile, and bring more attention to himself.
As these male titans on Mount Olympus sparred with each other, it was interesting to watch how they sorted themselves out once they got into the center.
In ballet, there are rules as to where someone stands in the class at the barre but also in the center. Because of so many dancers in the room, groups are formed that take turns doing combinations while others stand in the back and watch, going over the sequences in their minds and looking at others to learn from regarding style, finesse, and subtle command over one’s body.
Not surprisingly, Peter Martins went in the first group. This was (after all) his studio and his home. He was the uncontested Balanchine male dancer, and it was clear that he was very familiar with Stanley’s style and what he required the men to show and express.
Peter Schaufass chose to be in the second group. Peter did not appear to move from the positions of ego, yet he knew who he was and what he offered. He did not try to emulate Peter Martins as he had his own personal style and to him … that was perfect. He displayed a type of calm confidence that was not flashy though it was meticulous.
While both, Peter Martins and Peter Schaufass were trained and danced with the Royal Danish Ballet, their personalities and temperaments were clearly very different.
Baryshnikov took center stage with the third group. He exuded a very competent and professional attitude and his approach to class held a serious tone of respect and great attention to detail. Baryshnikov seemed in that moment the most relaxed of the four and yet his level of internal concentration and focus seemed superior in some odd way that at that time I could not put my finger on.
I think, he knew, he could do almost anything. That level of self-awareness gives a type of self-assurance that is fearless and bold without swagger or arrogance.
That left Rudi to command the fourth and final group. That was not surprising because he was the super star!
He taught me so much about presence and passion just standing there waiting for the music to start. He held a type of commanding conceit that defined who he was while he defied any who would challenge his authority, talent, or ability.

He knew that his job was to command the final group and it was clear that no man would be presumptuous enough to even try to knock him off his hill.
It was clear that the other men had great respect and great admiration for what he had accomplished in leaving the USSR. They understood the tremendous gifts that his talent had inspired in generations of dancers. As far as everyone was concerned, he earned that spot.
I could see that in this class there was a very serious competition between the Danish and the Russians but outward appearances also allowed for the unique styles, tastes, flows, and abilities of each other.
The Danes utilized a level of finesse and exactitude.  They loved to display the meticulous control that the Danish style was famous for. They appeared as expressions of effortless perfection that only rigorous training can offer. Their movement quality was fluid, cool, and peacefully understated. They were beautiful to watch and made everything look effortless.

But Russians have a very different temperament. Russia is a huge country, wild and uncontrollable on many levels and the Russian style is big, bold, brash, flamboyant, and wildly exuberant. They cannot help but have the mindset of “Go big or go home!”
While Baryshnikov was classy, caring, and consistent, there was a power inside him that had determined to find ways to coolly and calmly master difficult things with his mind and then allow that mind to train his body. He exuded a mastery of personal and professional self-control.
Even at that time, it was clear to me that he was so much more than just the epitome of a Russian dancer. He seemed to look for freedom in his movement. He loved to approach things with a sort of carefree attitude and ease that spoke volumes. He appeared to embrace differences and had a powerful drive to explore the edges of alternative movement.
He seemed enthusiastic about Stanley Williams style of movement, and he showed a type of curiosity and a desire to explore as many options as possible.
Artistically even to my young eyes he seemed to be seeking new ways to dance to some inner silence that moved his heart and inspired his soul.
Nureyev was a storm of emotion, power, intensity, drama, arrogance, and reactivity. He was like a wild animal that could barely control the emotions that seemed to threaten to consume him.
The energy he held inside seemed to be threatening to escape at any moment.
He was a coiled Siberian Tiger looking for its next meal, always hungry and ruthless in his pursuit to get what he wanted.

To me he was a Tarter version of the “Shab-nam” or the trickster of the Persian mythology. It was clear that he lived and existed on the edges of accepted social behavior and norms. In Nureyev’s movements and dance, it was clear that the values the world held … had no place for him. His movement said to me that he would live his life, breaking down as many systems of appropriate behavior, testing patience in everyone he met, and demanding to have things his way because he believed that he knew better.
He seemed to love to test everyone’s patience with great humor. His way of teasing seemed as if his intention was to stomp with muddy shoes across the shiny floors of ballet.

I saw him even then as a God of the Thresholds. He defied limits in himself and others. He refused to back away from a challenge.
To me, (even at 16 years old) he was something between a coiled snake and a roaring lion. Both would bite, and both intended to kill you.

Watching such moments in dance, one learns about the protocols and subtle structures that rule a ballet class. Things got very interesting as Stanley’s class began the turn sequences.
This was what I had been waiting for. The turns and jumps of the men are always the most spectacular. This was going to be the main event!
Stanley Williams knows the game as well and decides to give a series of continuously more difficult turning combinations.
Things get very interesting quickly. Stanley gives a series of alternating pirouette combinations that change direction, change sides, and change the type of pirouette being required. Changing angles in turn sequences is hard because how one spots (or focuses where the eyes are looking) alternates.
All the men do this with great skill and control. Such types of turns where it starts with one very controlled pirouette, that then gracefully moves into a double turn, only to change angles again, switching back and forth is complicated, interesting to watch, and shows prowess with finesse.
In that moment, the mood changed ever so slightly. Let the Games Begin!
I found myself watching realizing that I am partially holding my breath, trying to feel what that level of turning ability mixed with such profound control … must feel like.
That was when Stanley Williams gave an amazing sequence and combination that ended with a twirling finish that allowed for these virtuosos to spin as many pirouettes as they could to finish.
Peter Martins is first up.
In the turning reality, he is a showman. He is all elegance, grace, and understated power. He finishes with five perfectly positioned pirouettes and with the softness of a cat landing he closes into a perfect 5^th position.
There is an audible gasp from the peanut gallery.
He smiles and walks to the back of the room.
Next up is Peter Schaufass. He is known to be an excellent turner. And he does the entire exercise adding one extra turn for each one that Peter Martins did. But he is different as his nature flow and presentation is less elegant than Peter Martins. But he is clearly in his element and his turns appear effortless.
His final pirouette is so perfectly positioned and controlled that as he slows down for the final of 6 pirouettes (notice one more than Peter Martins), he stops perfectly forward, still on demi-point, with a perfect Passe position, and slowly slides his leg up and over his knee, to close into a 5^th position on demi-point before he closes and ends in a plie.
Now, all the ballerinas are feeling the excitement in the air with the men allowing this testosterone game to continue. We are all now in anticipation of what might come next.
Baryshnikov is now up, and we are at the edges of our seats because he is known for his amazing turning ability. We know that pretty much no one could beat him at this game.
Sure enough, with his clear blue eyes and sharp focus he now does one more pirouette in the sequences than Peter Schaufass, and he ends with 8 perfectly positioned Russian styled turns, finishing with a nonchalance and an attitude of casual grace. As he turns to go to the back of the room and as the next group is coming forward, he flashes that boyish charm our way, with those Russian blue eyes, and all of us in the corner melt under that smile that would melt Siberia.
Now, here comes Nureyev. The way he decides to purposefully walk to the front of the room, tells us that he knows he has to do one more pirouette than Baryshnikov. There is a look in those brown eyes that now seem to burn with a greenish hue of determination.
I can tell that he needs to win! He will win! Regardless of the cost.
He attacks the combination with a furiosity that can be felt throughout the room. You could have heard a pin drop. No one is breathing. The two Peters know what is up and watch casually from the back. Baryshnikov has put his leg up on the barre and is stretching nonchalantly pretending to not watch but I notice that as he stretches and Nureyev is finishing that last long spin, he ever so slightly turns his head to watch as he is leaning forward to stretch his hamstrings with one leg up on the barre.
For that last pirouette, Nureyev, winds up like a top. His jaw is set, his eyes have gone black, and I can see the pulse of his heartbeat in his neck.
He is turning to the right which means that he will relevé on his left leg and place his right foot in a passe on his left knee while he turns.
Before he does that, he swings his arms hard to the left so that he has great force to use in the turn. He is seriously intent in this action.
As the turn begins, he is spinning and as the spins get past the 4^th or 5^th, he is off balance. That requires him now to have to take a hop on his standing left leg to keep going around. Normally, most dancers would just finish rather than hop. But this moment Rudi needs to do one more than Baryshnikov. Hopping into the last 9^th pirouette, he finishes raggedly but with a smirk of satisfaction. He finishes and the room erupts in applause. Those applause were not because he did one more, they were for his determination to keep going no matter what.
I was to learn so much more about Nureyev’s determination in just a few years. But in that moment, everyone really wanted him to win.
We want our heroes to remain heroes and stars forever.
After that, I was inspired to go into the next studio, put on my point shoes, and practice pirouettes.
Each of those four male dancers had a personal way that they set up the turns. I wanted to try them all out to see if one worked better for me than another.
As I am practicing, I hear the class next door finish up. But I am not paying attention because I am concentrating on trying to figure out the various ways that New York City Ballet’s style of turns happens to begin from a different start position with a bent front leg and a straight back leg. Whereas, the Russian format of preparation for a turn, uses a double plie.
That is when I hear a man’s voice with a Russian accent say clearly, “Is so simple!”

I look over and here is Baryshnikov smiling and standing in the doorway to the studio with his arms folded, watching me.

Stunned, I stop what I am doing and suddenly I don’t know what to say as I am starstruck!
It is one thing to watch a star that you hold in high esteem but quite another to suddenly be face to face with one of the greatest stars of the ballet world and have to figure out what to say.
I can feel myself flush bright red and my heart is racing. I finally manage to say, “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

He smiles, knowing he has flustered me, and says softly, “It is so very simple. Let me show you.”

I think in my mind, “Is he kidding? He wants to help me? Seriously?”

He comes over, with a towel across his neck, tosses the towel to the side and proceeds to give me a lesson in the Russian way of turning. He takes his time going into great detail as to why the Russian train this way and we take turns … turning!
I can’t believe it! I am in a room with Baryshnikov and he is teaching me personally how to turn! Is this moment real?

Slowly I begin to relax … partially because he keeps telling me that you can’t turn with so much tension and that I need to learn to relax. I am clearly not breathing, and he points that out as well.

He does not understand that it is his presence that is making me not breathe. Though I can’t imagine that he does not know the effect he has on young women.
What I did not know until later was that he was probably working on the movie that he did with Leslie Browne, Turning Point (which came out in 1977). At that time, it was the summer of 1976 in New York.
Baryshnikov was totally kind to me and so very helpful. He even had me laughing by the end of this short 15-minute personal class on pirouettes.
He stopped when I succeeded in turning around 5 times on point during a pirouette. At that time that was the most I had ever manage to do … ever!
I felt very proud of myself.

He congratulated me and told me to keep on trying as he grabbed his towel, smiling one last time in my direction, with a thumbs up as he walked out the door.
After he was gone, I had to sit down.
Overwhelmed with joy and gratitude, I felt special and I felt that perhaps I had what it took to be a professional ballet dancer.
I felt as if I had managed to learn while watching the men’s class and then to stay open to feedback from someone who was clearly my superior in every way.
He taught me that great people can be relatively normal and kind. He taught me that we all need to share what we have learned with others. And that is how we make a better world.
It was a day in my life that I will never forget. A day filled with many special moments that altered me forever.
It was a day when I began to recognize the games that can be played out in a ballet studio.
A day where egos danced on a chess board while trying to “one up” each other.
A day when I realized that to do what I wanted would require me to be aware of my own competitive spirit and to learn to master myself in my mind and heart first.
I understood that this would be the only way that I could possibly learn to master my own body and to find the strength to have the balance of mental and emotional control.
And I realized that this would be the key to becoming a successful artist.
I understood how powerful emotions were and how they could demand excellence if … the mind had enough discipline to move with meticulousness and grace.
Somehow, it seemed that I had been touched by fate in a unique way. I did not know what that meant exactly but I knew that such chance meetings that had just happened … would lead me on a path to another potential that was just awakening.
While that would be my first and only encounter with Mikhail Baryshnikov and Peter Martins, shockingly it would not be my last encounter with Peter Schaufass and Rudolf Nureyev.
Both would end up giving me great gifts that would carry me forward in unique ways.
The Universe has always given me lessons in foreshadowing for what was yet to come. The Universe has always given me what I needed not necessarily what I wanted.
I was to learn how wise the Universe truly was.
There was much yet ahead of me.
Now, I am grateful that I could not see all the pieces that were going to fall into place and the moments that were intended to tear me apart.
I am grateful to be in this place of knowing now and grateful that I have always followed my heart and my truth regardless of circumstances or events.
I am grateful that I never lost my kindness even though I have been pushed to lose my temper in critical moments.
Greatness does not come easily. There are many sharp edges that intend to tear at the fabric that the mind and heart create.
All greatness is a force … that one learns to surrender into … as that higher knowing recognizes those places within us that need to die so that we can be reborn into something much vaster and more wonderful than what we currently believe.
Life is a caldron that will burn away that which is unnecessary for a soul to learn to fly.
Even in that youthful moment, I had something inside that knew the cost of my dream.
She knew the cost of doing things outside the box of the cultural norms. And she was willing to pay the price for a chance at discovering what she knew was still hidden.
Some part of me always heard the greatness inside my soul scratching to get out.
I knew the part that was clawing her way into the limelight.
And I understood the part of me that wanted to climb to the mountaintop, breathe in the coolness of the thin air, and gaze at the incredible views that some moments offered.

~Suzanne Wagner~