At the age of 11, Julian MacKay gave up his life in rural Montana to move to Moscow and train full-time at the Bolshoi Ballet Academy. It paid off: With Apollonian lines and bravura reserves of technique, the young dancer is now a versatile first soloist with St. Petersburg's Mikhailovsky Ballet, and brings an enterprising American spirit to his Russian life.
Company: Mikhailovsky Ballet
Hometown: Bozeman, Montana
Training: With Christine Austin in Montana, Bolshoi Ballet Academy in Moscow
Accolades: 2015 Prix de Lausanne (Royal Ballet apprenticeship), 2015 Beijing International Ballet and Choreography Competition (bronze), 2014 Yuri Grigorovich Ballet Competition in Sochi (bronze), 2014 Istanbul International Ballet Competition (gold)
Wayne McGregor has a new home, and he intends to share it. In March, the British choreographer and his company moved into Studio Wayne McGregor, a new, state-of-the-art venue in London. They have since announced two ambitious initiatives: FreeSpace, a program gifting studio time to other artists, and PEER, a mentorship program for final-year dance students and recent graduates.
In Rachid Ouramdane's Tenir le temps, Annie Hanauer articulates the choreography with unforced precision, her natural demeanor and smooth transitions the perfect fit for Ouramdane's undulating, abstract patterns. Few seem to notice that there is something slightly different about her: Hanauer was born missing part of her left arm, and now has a prosthetic one.
Hanauer, 30, has achieved what many thought impossible for a performer with a disability: a thriving career in the mainstream dance world. After performing with the UK's Candoco Dance Company from 2008 to 2014, she is now an in-demand freelancer, and a tall, striking presence in the works of contemporary choreographers Emanuel Gat and Ouramdane.
Born in Minnesota, Hanauer started taking a range of classes at a local studio when she was 10. Both her family and dance teachers were supportive: "I was never excluded," she says. "It was recreational, but when I got to the age of 16, I was taking class every night."
A creation for the Paris Opéra Ballet or The Royal Ballet would have pride of place on any choreographer's resumé. But Crystal Pite is going one better and choreographing works for both companies this season. "Isn't that crazy?" she exclaims at the Palais Garnier in Paris, still sounding surprised. "I have to pinch myself sometimes when I come into this building."
Still, Pite has plainly demonstrated in recent years that she belongs at the top of the choreographic ladder. Since creating her own company, Kidd Pivot, in 2002, the Canadian dancemaker has realized her ambitious vision for dance theater in increasingly large-scale productions: the Shakespeare-inspired The Tempest Replica, in 2011, was described by The New Yorker as "a work of astonishing beauty and thoughtfulness." Since 2013, Pite has been an associate artist at London's prestigious Sadler's Wells Theatre, where her most recent works, from Polaris to Betroffenheit, have made her a critical darling.
With her soulful presence and elegant manner onstage, Yulia Stepanova was touted as a major talent when she graduated from the Vaganova Ballet Academy in 2009. She joined the Mariinsky Ballet, where her sensitive phrasing as Odette/Odile confirmed her potential. Stuck for a promotion, however, she made a bold move to Moscow, and it paid off: Stepanova is now the Bolshoi's newest principal, and a rising star.
The appointment of Sasha Waltz and Johannes Öhman has already proved controversial.
Unrest is brewing in Berlin. In September, local government officials announced that the current director of the Staatsballett Berlin, Nacho Duato, would be replaced in 2019 by a duo of co-directors: choreographer Sasha Waltz and Sweden's Johannes Öhman. In response, the company's dancers, worried about the future of ballet in Berlin, have fought back through an online petition and official protests.
Home to a handful of international stars, including Iana Salenko and formerly Polina Semionova, the 89-strong Staatsballett is one of Germany's biggest classical companies. Born in 2004 from the fusion of Berlin's three ballet ensembles, previously employed by different opera houses, it became a noteworthy classical company under the direction of Ukrainian-born star Vladimir Malakhov. Duato has proved divisive since his arrival in 2014, but his recent choreography has relied on the classical technique.
The selection of Waltz and Öhman, on the other hand, has sparked anxiety about the potential fate of the Staatsballett's classical tradition. While Waltz is a world-renowned choreographer with her own Berlin-based company, she works in the Tanztheater tradition of Pina Bausch, with a contemporary vocabulary. “She comes from a completely different genre," says Elinor Jagodnik, a member of the corps de ballet and union representative. “The dancers will know more about ballet than she does, and the company will no longer attract classical talent."
The inclusion of Öhman, who has been the director of the Royal Swedish Ballet since 2011, was widely seen as an attempt to balance Waltz's avant-garde approach, but the dancers are unconvinced. Waltz stated in an open letter that her planned repertoire would be 50 percent classical, yet included Angelin Preljocaj's modern Snow White among those classical productions. (Waltz and Öhman declined to comment for this article.)
In addition to around 20,000 signatures, the Change.org petition attracted statements of support from the likes of John Neumeier and Lucia Lacarra. The dancers contend the appointment was political in nature. The mayor and cultural senator of Berlin, Michael Müller, appoints the Staatsballett's director, and he made the announcement three years in advance, shortly before standing for reelection. In October, his political party weakened, and it is likely that he'll be ousted as cultural senator, along with culture secretary Tim Renner. Jagodnik says the dancers hope the new directors' appointment will be reversed. “We're open-minded, but audiences in Berlin deserve to see classical ballet."
The legendary choreographer takes on a new role.
At 69, Jirí Kylián is back in a leadership role in ballet. In 2009, he parted ways with Nederlands Dans Theater after 24 years as artistic director and another decade as resident choreographer; the company shelved his works entirely in 2014. The Czech luminary has since stopped making new pieces for the stage to focus on film and photography, but his blend of classical lines and contemporary fluidity remains a cornerstone of neoclassical ballet worldwide. Starting this season, it will have a new home at the Lyon Opera Ballet, where Kylián is taking up a position as associate artist with a three-year contract.
Kylián’s Sleepless. Photo by Joris Jan Bos, Courtesy Lyon Opera Ballet.
Why did you say yes to becoming associate artist in Lyon?
I started working with the Lyon Opera Ballet in the early 1980s, when Françoise Adret was the director of the company, so it’s a long tradition for me. The current artistic director, Yorgos Loukos, simply asked me to take a more prominent role.
How much time will you spend in Lyon?
We’re still negotiating the plan, but it won’t be as regular as you might think. I won’t be there every month. The company will present existing ballets, including the ones that are already in the repertoire, and I will also present works that I made for older dancers and a photography exhibition, Free Fall.
You have exactly 100 works for the stage listed on your website. Do you have any plans to make new ones?
For now, no. I’m concentrating on film and photography. But once a choreographer, always a choreographer. The danger that I will start choreographing again is great. [Laughs]
What prompted that shift towards photography and film?
I’m interested in the tension between what is alive and what is dead, like photos and film. I’m very old now, I’m almost 70, so death is coming, it is closer to me. Even the photos that I make have some kind of choreography in them, however. I was busy making movement all my life, and I call my images frozen choreography.
You’ve also completed two short films this year, including Oskar for Les Ballets de Monte-Carlo.
You can get closer to faces with film. Onstage, you can be a fantastic dancer, but you’re still removed from the public. I’m interested in working with older dancers, including my partner of 43 years, Sabine Kupferberg. Their faces speak of incredible experience. They are like a map of the world, with so much written inside.
You’ve withdrawn your works from the repertoire of Nederlands Dans Theater for three years, until 2017. Will they be reintroduced next year?
There are no plans to reintroduce my work to the repertoire, and I encourage that. They’re doing fantastically well, and they should keep going the way they have. Before the Kylián period at NDT, there was a Glen Tetley and Hans van Manen period, and now it’s a new one—the company has always renewed itself and been at the forefront of dance’s development. I didn’t want to hang there like an ever-present shadow.
Have you taken any steps for the long-term preservation of your work?
All my work is digitalized. It’s not for my own glory—when I go, I want to make sure that there is good information available, so that people who are interested in what happened can have truthful sources.
Bursting out of a group of corps men at the start of Alexei Ratmansky’s Concerto DSCH, Nadezhda Batoeva embodies the ballet’s blend of Russian and American influences, launching into a perilous sequence of fast turns with devil-may-care energy. After overcoming initial obstacles, the bubbly Mariinsky Ballet second soloist now dances with an infectious joy that makes her stand out among her more studied colleagues.
Batoeva’s determination rocketed her from character parts to lead roles. Here, in William Forsythe’s In the middle, somewhat elevated. Photo by Natasha Razina, Courtesy Mariinsky Ballet.
Company: Mariinsky Ballet
Hometown: Neryungri, Russia
Training: Vaganova Ballet Academy in St. Petersburg
Accolade: 2008 Hope of Russia prize
Playing catch-up: When Batoeva was accepted to the Vaganova Academy at age 9, her complete lack of previous classical training meant she struggled. “All nine years were a challenge,” she says. “At first I was fighting not to be kicked out.” But her final teacher, Lyudmila Safronova, one of the last remaining students of Agrippina Vaganova, persuaded her that she could do it. “All those years before, everyone tried to tell me that ballet wasn’t for me.”
Character star: Despite her strong technique, when she joined the Mariinsky in 2009, Batoeva’s appearance was considered unsuitable for classical corps work, and she was pigeonholed in character roles. In 2010, she had a breakthrough performance in the sensual Etruscan dance in Leonid Yakobson’s Spartacus, attracting director Yuri Fateyev’s attention.
Typecast no more: With the help of her coach, Galina Kekisheva, Batoeva slowly broke out of the character mold. “Over time she built up her body, and I thought we should try something classical,” says Fateyev. She moved into leading roles, such as Kitri, and, increasingly, romantic parts: Earlier this year, she made her debut as Juliet.
Ratmansky connection: Batoeva’s promotion to second soloist came at the end of the 2012–13 season, after Ratmansky chose her for the Mariinsky premiere of his Concerto DSCH. The speed of his work suits her, and she has since earned international plaudits in his Cinderella. “I love his musicality—it makes you listen from a different angle.”
Choreographer’s muse: Her husband, Anton Pimonov, has choreographed for the Mariinsky, and Batoeva has created roles in his pieces. “It’s difficult to work with him,” she says, “because I feel a responsibility. In the studio, I try to do more, to tell the others if I notice something that would help him.”
On the small screen: In 2015, Batoeva took part in the second season of the TV competition “Bolshoi Ballet,” which features up-and-coming dancers from Russian companies. She and fellow Mariinsky second soloist Ernest Latypov placed fourth. “The conditions were very challenging—there is so much waiting with filming, so I had to learn patience. I was very happy when it ended.”