Tag Archives: Swan Lake

Swan Lake in cinemas! The Royal Ballet March 19, 2015

Swan Lake | Fathom Events.

Tamara Rojo: Axing dance in schools will restrict ballet to wealthy – Telegraph

Tamara Rojo: Axing dance in schools will restrict ballet to wealthy - Telegraph
Artistic Director and principle dancer Tamara Rojo & Fabian Reimair from English National Ballet rehearse Akram Khan ‘s new work: Dust, as part of a program entitled ‘Lest We Forget’ in commemoration of the start of World War I, at The Barbican Centre in London Photo: Araud Stephenson

Tamara Rojo: Axing dance in schools will restrict ballet to wealthy

Tamara Rojo, the artistic director of the English National Ballet criticised the decision of former education secretary Michael Gove to cut dance from the school curriculum

Artistic Director and principle dancer Tamara Rojo & Fabian Reimair from English National Ballet rehearse Akram Khan ‘s new work: Dust, as part of a program entitled ‘Lest We Forget’ in commemoration of the start of World War I, at The Barbican Centre in London Photo: Araud Stephenson

By Keith Perry 11:47PM GMT 05 Dec 2014

Tamara Rojo, the artistic director of the English National Ballet has criticised the decision of former education secretary Michael Gove to cut dance from the school curriculum, saying it risks making dance a preserve of the better off.

Ms Rojo said it was unfair as it meant “those that don’t have the means won’t have access to dance”.

She told the Evening Standard that is was particularly unwise to take dance out of schools as there was evidence of overwhelmingly improved results in maths taught through movement and 100 per cent increase in confidence.

The ENB itself offers tickets for as little as £10 to enable people to enjoy live dance. “We try to ensure that it is an art form that is accessible to everybody,” she said.

The Spanish dance star and her company are preparing to open their traditional Christmas production of Nutcracker followed by a run of Swan Lake.

Rojo said Nutcracker was important because the company had been performing it for more than 60 years. She added: There are two dozen Nutcrackers going round the United States. it is a very important tradition because for so many people it’s the first time they come to see ballet at all or to see a live performance in an orchestra.

“It’s a family tradition that goes from generation to generation and serves as an introduction to the art form.”

The challenge, she said, was to keep those first-time visitors – but audiences for dance have been growing. She praised both Billy Elliott, which overturned many prejudices about boys doing ballet, and Strictly Come Dancing for helping to foster a new passion.

But she rejected any notion she might follow Darcey Bussell in becoming a judge on the BBC show saying: “I think Darcey does a wonderful job.”

Rojo, 40, boosted the ENB’s fortunes when she returned as principal and boss two years ago but she said the pressure was shared with the arrival of major dancers such as Alina Cojocaru and guests including and guests including Ivan Vasiliev.

But she warned she would not be able to dance for as long as Sylvie Guillem who will retire next year at 50.

“She has an incredible physicality that I sadly don’t have. My end will come much earlier than that.

The Nutcracker runs at the London Coliseum from Thursday to January 4.

via Tamara Rojo: Axing dance in schools will restrict ballet to wealthy – Telegraph.


Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballets” Swan Lake to Go on a 7 City U.S. Tour, Beginning 3/31

Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” to Go on a 7 City U.S. Tour, Beginning 3/31

Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” to Go on a 7 City U.S. Tour, Beginning 3/31

February 25



The esteemed Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” will embark on a seven-city U.S. tour beginning in Milwaukee on Tuesday, March 31. Ten performances will showcase the classic fantasy ballet “Swan Lake,” featuring the renowned music by Tchaikovsky and an impressive cast of some of the world’s best dancers. The Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” continues to captivate audiences worldwide, adhering to the signature aspects of Russian ballet as a whole: true expressivity, dramatic presentation and impeccable technical presentation.

“We are thrilled to bring the Saint Petersburg ‘Russian Ballet’ to the U.S. and believe the audience will enjoy themselves,” said Ernesto Texo with Texoart Cultural Productions.

Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” performers are graduates of Saint Petersburg’s prestigious Vaganova Ballet Academy, founded in 1738, and continue to perform on the oldest stages in Saint Petersburg. Consistently delighting sold-out audiences worldwide with world-class dancers and dazzling costumes, the Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” continues to make international touring a large part of its contribution to furthering Russian dance and culture.

Created in 1990 by the family of professional ballet dancers, The Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” dynasty is more than 100 years old. Artistic Director Alexander Bruskin is a former soloist of the famed Kirov Ballet, a former classmate of the renowned Mikhail Baryshnikov, and a former student of legendary ballet instructor Alexander Pushkin.

The Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” has successfully conducted more than 50 tours worldwide in countries including Japan, England, Ireland, Spain, the U.S., France and Germany among many others, and has participated in 10 international ballet festivals. Today, the repertoire includes such masterpieces as “Swan Lake,” “Sleeping Beauty,” “The Nutcracker” and “Don Quixote.” Each ballet is performed in its original choreography, and the Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” perceives its main mission to be the preservation of such choreographic authenticity.

The Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” U.S. performance schedule, venue and ticket information is as follows:

Tuesday, March 31

Riverside Theater

116 W. Wisconsin Ave., Milwaukee

8 p.m. (doors 7 p.m.)

Tickets: On sale now | $60 | $80 | $100

Available at the Riverside Theater Box Office or pabsttheater.org.

Tuesday, April 7

Van Wezel Performing Arts Center

777 N. Tamiami Trail, Sarasota, Fla.

8 p.m.

Tickets: On sale now | $45 | $65 | $85 | $100 | $120

Available at the Van Wezel Performing Arts Center Box Office, vanwezel.org, or by phone at 941-953-3368.

Wednesday, April 8 and Thursday, April 9 – Two performances!

Lucas Theatre

32 Abercorn St., Savannah, Ga.

7 p.m.

Tickets: On sale now

Available via lucastheatre.com, or by phone at 912-525-5050.

Saturday, April 11 and Sunday, April 12 – Two performances!

Jones Hall for the Performing Arts

615 Louisiana St., Houston

7 p.m.

Tickets: On sale now

Available at the Jones Hall Box Office or houstonfirsttheaters.com.

Thursday, April 16

Lila Cockrell Theatre in the Henry B. Gonzalez Convention Center

200 E. Market St., San Antonio

7:30 p.m.

Tickets: On sale now $40 | $65 | $80 | $95 | $110

Available at the Alamodome Box Office, all Ticketmaster outlets, ticketmaster.com, or by phone at 800-745-3000.

Tuesday, April 21 and Wednesday, April 22 – Two performances!

AT&T Performing Arts Center Winspear Opera House – Margaret McDermott Performance Hall

2403 Flora St., Dallas

7 p.m.

Tickets: On sale now

$43.50 | $53.50 | $63.50 | $103.50 | $123.50 | $143.50 | $163.50

Available at the AT&T Performing Arts Center Information Center, ticketdfw.com, or by phone at 214-871-5000.

Thursday, April 23

Mahalia Jackson Theater for the Performing Arts

1419 Basin St., New Orleans

7:30 p.m.

Tickets: On sale now | $60 | $85 | $130

Available at the Mahalia Jackson Theater Box Office (day of show only), or in advance at all Ticketmaster outlets,ticketmaster.com, or by phone at 800-745-3000.

For more information, visit http://spbt.ru.

via Saint Petersburg State “Russian Ballet” to Go on a 7 City U.S. Tour, Beginning 3/31.


Birds in Ballet

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Right now, it’s drizzling freezing rain outside. You think, “How am I going to survive this?” But, like muscle memory, it all comes back to you, and the cold is refreshing, revitalizing even. Yes, it’s cold, but it’s stimulating. Each day, there is a miracle or a tiny bit of improvement, one way or the other. Life. I watched the birds the other day, some still high in the trees, singing to each other loudly, and I wonder, “Why are you still here?” Why haven’t they all flown South yet? We are staying warm inside, but one must venture out into the cold, bundled up, breathing through your nose, though it it not that cold yet, it has hit some pretty low temps these past couple of weeks. I am still waiting for the snow to dump on us. I like layering up my clothes and wearing fuzzy mittens. Sometimes these things remind me more than ever of my childhood and my mother’s concern for me freezing my ear and other cartilage. I wonder how the birds do it. Fly South and know exactly where to come back to. If you are starting something new, something difficult, take it very slowly and practice it correctly, until you can do it correctly faster-that is one way to make improvement. Correctly.You should still do eight and work up to 16. Another thing I was thinking about is a la seconde. Pointing your foot or anything else should be like the owl pictured above spreading his wings. I mean why do it if you are not reaching, trying to fly, to get free? When you jump, you should sustain it, like a bird riding on an air current. Practice. There are so many comparisons to birds in ballet.


I remember when my son was very young and I was having a conversation with my mother. She said, “You may have to work very hard to support your son, you know-to get by.” I got by, and that was 28 years ago. I worked a lot of jobs. ” You might have to work two jobs, maybe waitress. I lot of mothers pay the bills by getting two jobs. You are a single mother.” I remember thinking about all of the jobs I had, working in the cafeteria at age 14, a bakery, other menial positions, but I wasn’t even a single mother then-I was supporting my mother who was sick then, and myself, paying for everything this way. Especially ballet. Ballet was the inspiration, what kept me behind the counter, so to speak. Dancing and thoughts of it, while I worked. Why was she telling me this? As if she had to remind me of my duty? Had anyone ever had to remind me of my duty? Ever? I was born dutiful. I still am. All the years she hadn’t even tried once to work came tumbling down from the shelf where I keep them, battering me. Oddly, now that she is gone, I hardly think of them. She had always said she wanted to be there for me, be a good mother. The books and little pamphlet with drawings in them that she had made to teach me French and Spanish, dancing umbrellas, birthday cats, ballet shoes and ribbons trailing, all passed by.

There was one Summer, after the cafeteria, the one in which I began ballet at Sinclair Community College, where I painted walls in the Alternative School by University of Dayton. Not painted them white or beige, but with colorful and sage advice about the optimism which comes from learning, and choices, about the values of education, to inspire passers by. The then secretary, a middle-aged woman, with one son in parochial school, whom she supported on her own, watched me in the office, tried to teach me things, like the correct ergonomics for typing, and sitting for long periods in a chair, filing, and errand running, and underfoot (probably), she pulled me from this job, and asked me if I could paint a picture for her on the entrance wall outside her office. I painted a field of poppies. Red poppies. Grass shooting up in shades of olive and army and lime.  She liked it. She said it made her happy when she came to work. Dancing and reading made me happy.

The proper way to prepare lettuce is to break it between the fingers, and not cut it-cutting bruises the lettuce. At our library, downtown, was a poem written on the wall in aluminum scroll by Langston Hughes.

“Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.”

The bus stop was right across the street and so I stared at this, upon leaving the library, which is kind of the last stop leaving downtown Dayton traveling up Third Street. It’s broken down. Michelin Tire signs, brick factories, greasy spoon the size of a closet, public pay phone. And the library with a garden behind a fence. A pretty garden, a listening area, archive, microfiche machines, bathrooms. Puppet shows. Books. I went right in there and got the poetry book by Langston Hughes and read his poems and drew in my sketchbook I carried around with my dance gear, and other things.  On the way out I stopped and took out cassette tapes of Lifeboat, and jazz. Dayton always had so much potential. Behind the library was Sears. Then over another block or two was Memorial Hall. The Victory Theatre, and the bus. You could transfer from the bus to anywhere. There was this old arcade, which was a several leveled building of shops, like an indoor mall and it had been shut down many years before, and they had renovated it, reopening as a reminder of a bygone era, replete with original railed, an atrium, and stores, Mostly food and little clothes shops for secretaries on their lunch hours. But there was a lot of space for rent. While I was studying Chines with Mrs. Lee (who ran the Chinese restaurant for he daughter), I went next door to the bakery and applied. It was a kosher-Italian bakery which had been in the Jewish neighborhood in North Dayton for many many years and was expanding.I was hired and worked there off an on for a couple of years during high school and once on a break during college. The owner had asked me to stay and manage it, but I had declined, wanting to go back to school. I remember thinking, “Seriously?” I was sophisticated and living in New York, wearing expensive and chic leather boots, lipstick jeans, hair long and very trendy. Long, confident strides. One day, I was walking aimlessly around the shops in the atrium, and I saw an elderly-looking man with a cane. He was graying at the temples, and talking to a friend, sitting there. As I approached, he tried to get my attention. He looked up at me and half-smiled. That gold tooth! Mr. Booker???? Yes!!! My seventh grade social studies teacher a la militant black man. Playing Earth Wind and Fire, writing legal definitions on the chalkboard, allowing me to be a leader on a project about the Space Shuttle. A rebel, a hippie, a man I had looked up to, and one who inspired his students with his passion about equality and freedom. A man who got fired for his “radical” teaching methods. At least we never saw him again. He was friends with Ms. Atkins. A very skinny teacher of English. Very elegant and precise. I wrote a poem in her class about the night, something about envelopes and darkness and light, and riders. She sent it to a competition, and unbeknownst to me, I won. She was taking roll one day and she just dropped the certificate on my desk as she passed, and kept on walking up the aisle.  And Mr. Amos. 7 feet tall, huge afro, long white coat, playing jazz in the ceramic room with the kiln. He did weird art projects, like clay with your eyes closed in 5 minutes, reading about art in magazines and books, using found materials to create sculptures, painting old fired pieces or objects that people had left in classroom from many years before. Forgotten. Make everything in your life about art, about creating, about beauty, about love. And listen to music while doing it. Our detention for talking was to clean out the kiln-room and take home whatever we wanted because he was going to throw it out if we didn’t. This always worked with me, cats, books, whatever I was afraid would be thrown out, or left behind, simply had to come with me. I stayed after school willingly every day, and following some exercise in art, drawing or painting or listening, or reading, came the forage.  And Mr. Booker now looked up at me, with my apron and superior 17 year-old smirk, half aware, and he smiled, and said, “Hello, Ava.” Suddenly, I was me again. The smirk faded and I just stood there, 12, again. Teachers can do that to you. I remember that I about fell over from shock-how could someone age that much in such a short time? Hardship. I did not recognize his former self at first, so aged he seemed from the swaggering, 70’s rock star that had taught us about human rights, but he remembered me. We chatted briefly, he kept looking around, maybe he had had an injury, hence the cane, hence the change. I told him I was going to college, to NYU. He was proud, you could tell, and he congratulated me. We parted. Forever.

Many times there is a phoenix, rising from the ashes. The Firebird, although we never equate the two. But, there has to be ambition and a desire to see oneself as one can be, not necessarily as one is now.

I had gone back to high school, where I took that information, about what I could do, and why dreams were important, and that there was a point to an education, and toughness might be required in order to avoid getting one’s ass kicked and surviving it, if you let it happen, where eventually I graduated. I was driving in the car, with the man from the Dayton Board of Education, who headed a program for at-risk youth, and poor kids from the west side, which though black, did not discriminate against whites. He was the President.  he was an older black man and he had hired me in this program so I could continue my Summer employment. It was to paint houses on the west side of town. I must have grimaced, or made a face. She then went into the anti-snob lecture, you know about my grandpa. He was a working-class contractor. He built half of the country with a firm called Arthur Rabkin (from Cincinnati) during the war, and after. You know the type-black gangster hat (Fedora), Irish mug, piercing blue eyes, leather jacket. He was very handsome and work was his life.  I am an optimistic person. He said he never treated anyone any different, the banker or the bum. He said good morning and raised his hat to both. He said they were the same. One was not any better than the other. One might give himself airs, but he was actually no better.

And then there is Rothbart, half man, half bird of prey. The dark side of ballet, an evil sorcerer, who turns his harem of swans back into princesses at night-how convenient. He is always there, the villain, all-seeing and watching like the raven, looking for an opportunity. I think the villains in ballet are so much more interesting than the noble princes, possibly with the exception of Albrecht, who is a rascal of a man.  All of the birds in ballet. So many real characters to play. So many references in ballet to bird-like qualities. Wings, even when there are no birds, there are fairies. Man’s desire to ascend, a dancer’s desire is to ascend, to transcend. That is theater and art. But art is for everyone, too, not just the wealthy. If companies and schools do not sell all of their ballet tickets, they should reduce the prices for the rest and even give away a good number to the poor and children in school who might not otherwise be able to afford to come! That is good publicity. One never knows where the next birds will come from….

Keep on dancing!


▶Funniest Ballet Video EVER isn’t even a ballet….Swine Lake

▶ Rudolph Nureyev at Muppet Show – YouTube.

BUT contains one of the greatest ballet dancers EVER, MR. RUDOLF NUREYEV. I have a feeling even though this seems like a gag, weight issues with female ballerinas, must really set dancers on edge. Nureyev dropped one at least once, injuring her….ladies, BEWARE!








Swan Lake

Swan Lake.   reblogged from “Dance is the Word”

▶ Maya Plisetskaya – “Swan” – YouTube

▶ Maya Plisetskaya – “Swan” – YouTube.

A Little Poetry Can go a Long Way, and so can an awesome ballet class!

to INSPIRE you.

Sometimes I feel exhausted, so tired and alone,

as if what I am reaching for is nebulous.

Sometimes the fear that I will be unable to do what I do

in my dreams, will suffocate me.

Sometimes I whine, the pain, the futility of repeatedly trying and failing,

is not resulting in the object of my desire.

But being alone, tired, sore, injured, blindly striving, monotony and repetition, even nightmares-all

feel good after a perfect ballet class! Truthfully, it is alone that I reach for the stars, muscling my body for Mars, to the music I sweep,

across the stage so wide, just hoping for my chance to be alive!


This is not how I imagine Boadicea in my mind. It has always been me. Hair flying, sword in one hand, daughters cupped protectively under one breast. In the other hand, my rein, of the horse driven chariot. I ride triumphant. I ride alone. I ride, despite turmoil, war, poverty, hypocrisy and against all odds. Odds are important. Surmounting them builds character. Inspiration comes in many forms and from invariable and sometimes unlikely places. I have never gotten anything for free and have never valued or kept anything I did not have to fight for. If I didn’t have to fight for it, then I just did not think it worthy of my time or effort. This includes e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.

I first read about her in a book entitled Sarum. Then I hunted out Warrior Queens. Since then, I have read every bit of drivel about women pirates, leaders, queens, and concubines, and I always did have a serious fascination with fairy tales, especially Russian and Chinese, mythology, and Shakespeare. Which are surprisingly full of heroines-not weak. I was good at finding obscure books, like Woman in White and The Cloister and the Hearth. I studied Chinese language, a dream of mine, probably stemming from those fairy tales, and of course, ballet. Once I discovered the Russian fairy tales linked in ballet, I was hooked. My childhood was linked with my future (I thought then, I know now).

But of all those lusty heroines, Boadicea was my queen. She, for personal reasons, replaced the saint in my saintless life, and my religion has always been to conquer in the face of death, my goals. Was I to think that my passion for my children, would be any less flaming than my own desire to go where no woman has ever gone before? I did, in a way, do that. For the music business in the early 1990’s was not populated by even one successful female. No woman ever had had a record company I believe, even if my own was born out of management, and creative marketing of unsigned bands, I did it with no less flamboyancy than the best. It was difficult. Being a mother of a young son, at the same time, made it inadvisable, and being in England, alone, with a band, and no money, made it seemingly impossible.

Without thinking twice, I found a way to take 17 cassette tapes, $100 per week, and my will, and turned them into a flat on Baker Street, a son in  London public school, 10,000+ cds, and 2,500 press outlets, radio stations and distributors. In the stores in less than 3 months. I started in November. Published date was March 1st. We did a live radio interview on WNEW in the middle of the night in February, cds in hand. What motivated me, was that struggle-not power, but passion. I knew then, what I know now, that if it had been me I was promoting, I would have been competition for Madonna. But, it is also what you promote. My feeling is that if it is a product-it has to be virtuous, pure and , marketable. If it is a charity, then it has to be above reproach and fastidious in its lineage and heirs. If it is a person or a band, then it has to be loyal and true, built of the same mettle as me (at least) and it has to be ready to work. Above all is the immovable line of resolve, no wavering at the finish line.

In art the contract is everything. A bad contract is a very bad deal indeed. In ballet, there is practically no refuge for the artist. They get what they get. Artists are unfortunately not taught business and most of them only begin to learn when they are recovering (if they do) from being stepped on. I have learned more from my mistakes than my successes. But, there is a strange similarity between a baby and a business. You become attached. No matter whether you know your business isn’t perfect, you love it, you have created it, you hold onto it, until you just have to let it go. It is a part of you. You can feel this way after 2 years in a business, even 1 year. After 18 years, the roots are no different than the tree.

So, Boadicea, with her raped daughters, her outrage, her unconquerable spirit, her ability to rally her people, her martyr-like death, have always seemed to me to perfectly triangulate the ohm in my mantra. Ohmmmm. Ohmmmm. Nothing else makes perfect sense but life and death, and protection of your creation, whatever it is. It starts out very benignly, like a ballet class, or a little drawing of a Pagoda, or jumping around on the couches, perhaps, twanging a guitar, but after it evolves to become part of you, and you have nurtured it, sewn it, and aggregated it, daily, weekly, monthly, and each year, it becomes intrinsic to you. It is you. I believe that is what defines most dancers, musicians, artists, etc., it is that what they do defines them, enables them to communicate in another language, to a central part of their own spirit, which reaches out to other like spirits, as an energy, more than a thing. When I look back at my drawings, I do not see the lines, or the brush strokes. At first I feel a rushing, like wind, as part of my own energy calls to me, remembering that moment, that part of my own spirit and feelings (of the moment) that that artwork contains. Only after that rush has subsided can I look at the work or enjoy it. First-we recognize each other.

Of course there is a sense of pride, that when you look back at a thing, 30 years later, it still remembers you, and you it. But, there is also, that feeling that I did that, and it still lives and breathes my feelings of that moment, it communicates, still. Although ballet is literally a moment, it is the same, and a piece of music, once created, is a thing always enjoyed. This passion stems from the selfsame place as Boadicea’s, although hers is a bonfire, where mine might be a flame, they are both of the same elemental importance. As parents, we nurture our young, and pass on even these sorts of feelings, the same way we might pass on technique, a combination, or a story. We look to our young and most often I find, rather than one little thing like a grade, I am trying to pass on that fiery passion for learning, for life and for survival, that must be present in an artist and a warrior.

I am happy to say that each one of my children, in his/her own way, possess that spirit, entrepreneurial or not. But I feel that if they eventually catch fire, then I have succeeded. When I think of Boadicea now, I think of my daughter, and my sons, alternately in the chariot, with their children cupped under one breast, a sword in one hand, the reins in the other, hair flying.

Tamara Toumanova – Entrechats in ‘Swan Lake’ (c.1932)

One of the three “babies ballerinas of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. Tamara Toumonova appeared in Invitation to Dance with Gene Kelly and Days of Glory with Gregory Peck!