Teacher's Wisdom: Pyotr Pestov
Pyotr Pestov is one of ballet's greatest men's teachers. His illustrious alumni include dancers and artistic directors like Vladimir Malakhov, Nikolai Tsiskaridze, and Alexei Ratmansky. From 1963 until the mid-1990s, Pestov was a pillar of the faculty at Moscow's Bolshoi Ballet Academy. In 1996, he moved to Stuttgart Ballet's John Cranko School, where he teaches today. Paying tribute to Pestov at the Youth American Grand Prix gala in April, Ratmansky noted the “elegance, musicality, and solid discipline" that Pestov instills in his students. An advocate of “honesty with oneself," Pestov stresses the purest classical ballet principles while encouraging students to think freely as artists. Evan McKie, a Pestov alum recently named principal dancer at Stuttgart, sat down to chat with his charismatic mentor.
What made you want to teach?
It was accidental. I was a senior at the Perm Ballet Academy in Russia during World War II. After the war was over, many of the area's children were left without parents. These kids had developed behavioral problems, and the government's solution was to send them to ballet school to learn discipline and culture. Here they were, 9-year-old boys who wouldn't respond to authority and wreaked havoc wherever they went. They even smoked and drank! "Little bandits," they were called.
The director of the academy felt they might respond to us older boys. The first day I tried to work with them they laughed in my face—impossible to control! So I decided to take them to the theater—kicking and screaming. Incredibly, when the curtain rose, they were suddenly silent, all eyes glued to the magic of the ballet. The next day they begged me to teach them!
This was when I learned the beauty of schooling young minds. Getting through to children, anticipating what they need to grow properly, is an art in itself. In 1958, after a short career as a dancer, I entered a pedagogy program in Moscow. I have been teaching ever since.
What advice do you give those who have chosen to become students of dance?
Chesnaya is the word I use most while working, “honest" in Russian. Good classical dance is about sincere attention to detail and patience—a constant, concentrated effort. I am often asked why I always give the same long warm-up facing the bar. It's because if you don't return to a strong, simple base, how can you expect to juggle all the details of ballet technique honestly? My students know that good work often means “swimming against the current of a long stream." It can be endlessly tedious, but if you stop, then where are you?
Back where you started. I still remind myself of this all the time. You had a special name for this kind of work.
I call it “dark work," because it is so tiresome mentally and physically.
How can a ballet teacher instill that work ethic in his or her students?
I learned from the Perm School's founding director, Ekaterina Geidenreich, that everything a teacher says to the students has to mean something. She rarely spoke, but when she did, her words were well thought out and her criticism useful. The work you give students has to inspire them. I once asked Alexander Pushkin why he barely spoke to his boys in class. He replied, “The beauty has to be in the work." I talk quite a bit to my classes but find that an exhilarating combination speaks louder than most words.
What quality do you value most in a dancer?
Musicality. Regardless of how physical your movement is, you need to understand that even in silence your body must create musical accents. “Character" is also a great gift. Be in touch with who you are. Don't get caught up in the world's trivial distractions.
You're known for being very specific regarding the accompaniment of your classes.
Yes. I treat my boys like an orchestra. Each individual reacts to music differently, like instruments. I try to find something specific for each combination that they can all respond to symphonically. And I strive to find pieces from a classical repertoire that the boys have never heard. It's interesting to see how they interpret these “new" old melodies from Glinka, Kreisler, Chopin.
You are heralded as a men's master teacher. Have you ever wanted to teach ladies?
Switching from men's teacher to women's is not the tradition in Russia. But aside from that, I never wanted to go back and forth, even here in Stuttgart. It is difficult to anticipate the beauty of a flower before it has bloomed. I can do this with boys better than I ever could with girls.
Do you advise specific cross-training for dancers?
The more sports one does, the better! If you want to become a better artist, enrich your mind by playing an instrument or appreciating literature; that is cross-training.
Which ballets or dancers move you?
If Chopiniana or Giselle are cast and danced well, they can be exquisite. I never liked Swan Lake much. Everyone thinks they can do it. Marina Semionova moved me immensely as a student. She was stunning and never the same. I don't like when dancers do ballets the same way all the time.
As you look back, what are some vivid memories or feelings you wish to share?
Every time I take a new class of boys I have this magical feeling. It is part uncertainty, part worry, part excitement. Each soul will react to my class in a different way. It takes a while to get to really know them. I can't just force my methods on them. I have to understand them so that they can understand me.
In 1975 there was a wonderful moment when I took my boys to a festival in Kiev. We brought a small bit of choreography set to Bach's Passacaglia. Everything fell into place for the first time in my teaching career. The boys danced in brilliant harmony—exceptional artists in their own right. All of the work suddenly paid off. I was proud and others praised them for their incredible attention to musicality. Moments of such synchronized clarity are rare.
From the minute my journey as a dancer began at age 4, there were no other options of what I might do with my life.
Sure, I tried other "after-school activities." I tried desperately to master The Phantom of the Opera with my squeaky violin rental—a headache for my parents who paid for private Suzuki method lessons at our house. Constantly attempting famous show tunes on my violin, the effort was completely futile. I actually remember thinking, 'Surely this sheet music is wrong, this sounds nothing like the Phantom of the Opera.'
I even tried my hand at gymnastics. But when my mom's brilliant bribery of $100 for my first mastery of a kip or a back handspring didn't produce any results, we quickly threw in the towel.
When Miami City Ballet artistic director Lourdes Lopez was a principal dancer at New York City Ballet, she missed her opportunity to honor Jerome Robbins onstage. "Every time there was a celebration for Jerry, I was either injured or had just retired," says Lopez. "I was never able to publicly thank him onstage for all that he taught us and the beauty he left us."
But when Lopez was planning MCB's Jerome Robbins Celebration for the 100th anniversary of the legend's birth, she saw an opportunity. She asked the Robbins Trust to allow her to perform the Ringmaster in Robbins' Circus Polka, a role the choreographer originated himself.
Growing up in inner city Rochester, NY, Aesha Ash was just one of the neighborhood kids. She'd imagine people driving by, judging her by her black skin.
"They'd never know that I was dreaming of becoming a professional ballet dancer. No one would think, Some day she's going to make it into New York City Ballet," says Ash.
After an inspiring career at NYCB, Béjart's Ballet Lausanne and LINES, the January 2006 Dance Magazine cover star—one of our 25 to Watch that year—is no longer performing. But she's determined to use her dance background to change the stereotypes and misconceptions that people—including black people—have about women of color. "I want to show it's okay to embrace our softer side, and let the world know we're multidimensional," says Ash.
Aesha Ash in Richmond, CA. PC Renee Scott via swandreamsproject.org
In 2011, she launched the Swan Dreams Project to inspire kids in the community she grew up in. The original idea was to post images of herself in a tutu all over Rochester. "I remember growing up and in the bodega you'd see images of girls in bikinis on motorbikes," says Ash. "I wanted to replace those with photos that show women of color in a different light."
She knew the power imagery can have: She still remembers what it felt like as a student at the School of American Ballet to see a photo of black ballet dancer Andrea Long. "That image was everything on days when I was feeling disenchanted. I'd see that picture of her, and know that the struggles I was going through, she went through them, too."
Ash soon realized she didn't have the budget to fund her original plan ("I never realized how expensive a bus stop advertisement is!"). But she's made the images available through an online store, and often simply gives away prints at her own expense to schools and students in need of some inspiration.
Any proceeds she makes from the sales go directly to other organizations that are working to expand ballet in diverse communities. One large donation even led to a pointe shoe fund at dancer Robyn Gardenhire's City Ballet of Los Angeles school—and it helped one dancer who had quit ballet because of the expense come back to class.
Now a mother of two in San Jose, CA, Ash will also start teaching a free after-school ballet class at her daughter's public school next month. "I recently taught at Girls Inc. in Oakland, and one of the little black girls said, 'Are you the ballet teacher?' She just stood there, staring at me with her mouth open, like a unicorn had just walked into the room," Ash says. "You never know the impact you can have just by being a presence."
Ever find yourself lusting after that six o'clock penché, or a développé that will reach your nose? You're not alone. The eye is naturally drawn to the end points of a movement, and, in dance, that often translates to the highest extension.
But what if you're born without extreme, Instagram-worthy lines? It's a matter of developing a laser focus on alignment as well as strengthening and stretching with better body mechanics in mind.
From coast to coast, choreographers have spent the first year of Donald Trump's presidency responding to the impact of his election and what it means for them as artists.
New York City's Dante Brown used rubber Trump masks in his work Package (revamped), which examines the monstrosities of power.
A video titled "Dancers vs. Trump Quotes" went viral last summer, showing dancers taking Trump's "locker-room" talk to task.
Alexis Convento, lead curator of the New York City–based Current Sessions, dedicated a whole program to the concept of resistance, while educator and interdisciplinary artist Jill Sigman has initiated a workshop called "Body Politic, Somatic Selves," as a space for movement research around questions of support, activism and solidarity.
In San Francisco, choreographer Margaret Jenkins facilitated a panel of artists about the role of activism within their work.
When London-based perfume company The Beautiful Mind Series was looking for a collaborator for their next scent, they skipped the usual celebrity set and brought in prima ballerina Polina Semionova instead. "I was fascinated by what goes on in the mind of a great dancer," perfumer Geza Schoen said in a press release. Semionova's ballet-inspired scent, Precision & Grace, celebrates the intelligence and beauty behind her craft.
Courtesy of The Beautiful Mind Series
The ever-so-busy Kyle Abraham is back in New York City for a brief visit with his company Abraham.In.Motion as they prepare for an exciting spring season of new endeavors with some surprising guests. The company will be debuting a new program at The Joyce Theater on May 1, that will include two new pieces from Abraham, restaged works by Doug Varone and Bebe Miller, and a world premiere from Andrea Miller. Talk about an exciting line-up!
We caught up with Abraham during a recent rehearsal where he revealed what he is tired of hearing in the dance community.
Choreographer Tero Saarinen has a proclivity for the peculiar—and for epic orchestral music. That he should be commissioned by the Los Angeles Philharmonic to create a new dance work to accompany the U.S. premiere of Bernd Alois Zimmermann's Cello Concerto en forme de pas de trois only makes sense. Zimmermann's eerie, difficult-to-classify composition falls squarely in Saarinen's wheelhouse. Walt Disney Concert Hall, Jan. 19–21. laphil.com.
Two competition routines are equal in technical proficiency, artistry and choreography. One consists of all girls, the other includes a boy. Guess which takes home first prize?
If you guessed the one with the boy, you may be privy to an unspoken and much-debated phenomenon in the competition dance world: The Boy Factor. According to The Boy Factor, a competitive piece is more likely to win if there's a boy in it.
"If it's all technically equal and one group is all girls and the other group has a boy, the one with the boy will win," says Rysa Childress, owner of All Star Studios in Forest Hills, New York. "Boy soloists are sometimes scored higher than more technically proficient girls because if a boy has good stage presence, we let him slide," says an anonymous competition judge. "And most of the feedback will be for the boy."
I'll never forget something Roberto Bolle once told me when I was interviewing him about his workout regimen: Talking about how much he loved to swim, he said, "I would love to go in the Italian sea, but I am too well-known there to show up in my suit."
It always amused and kinda shocked me that a ballet dancer could reach that level of fame. But it's true: In his native Italy, Bolle is a bonafide celerity.