In the Shadow of the Greats

I decided to program Carmen first, but because it required an orchestra and a conductor, I scheduled it for later in the season. I expected that staging it would be an expensive venture, but Ruth nearly donated her ballets, including costumes, orchestration, and décor to PBT. That “give away” also included her dancers--Patricia Klekovic, Orrin Kayan, and Johnson, who was an experienced teacher and ballet master.

I returned to Pittsburgh via Amtrak, as I still had not recovered from my flight phobia. The train was three hours late. I spent this endless New Year’s Eve journey daydreaming and planning future collaborations with Ruth Page and her resources.

I was anxious to speak with Loti Falk and Arthur Blum about my sensational deal with Page. They were delighted. We began arranging Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre’s premiere season at the Pittsburgh Playhouse and invited as many potential sponsors as we could to the debut performance.
Chapter Eleven: Curtain Up
On November 12, 1969, we opened officially as “Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre,” in affiliation with Point Park College and the Pittsburgh Playhouse. The bill offered Fokine’s Les Sylphides with a principal cast of--Jayne Hillyer, Jean Gedeon, Candace Itow, Elva Scapes, John Occhipinti, Mary Petrov, and JoAnn McCarthy. In the corps were: Susan Bock, Ann Corrado, Carole Arnold, Charon Battles, Debby Benvin, Amy Chomas, Peggy Domer, Rosemary Gleeson, Patty Greenwood, Debby Hewitt, Pamela Klare, Carol Leubbert, Carolyn McIntosh, Shea Mihm, Joyce Moticska, Kathy Pierini, Karen Prunczik, Christine Ratay, Mary Rose Saxman, Susan Stone, Shelia Waldrep, Wendy Weiss, Diane White, Donna White, Mary Grace Wuenschell, and Susan Zelenak.

Ethel Winter, whose residency at the college was still in progress, contributed Spiritual Passage to music by Bach, En Dolor, which she performed and her Suite of Three. Also on the program were Marius Petipa’s “Grand Adagio” from Le Corsaire, performed by Pennsylvania Ballet’s Barbara Sandonato and Alexei Yudenich; an adaptation of Lev Ivanov’s “Grand Pas de Deux” from The Nutcracker, danced by Hillyer and Occhipinti; and my Motion in Emotion-Electronic, a large ensemble work. The program concluded with Jean-Paul Comelin’s Idyllic which used a score by Hertel. It was performed by the stellar Sandonato and Yudenich, whose dancing had the greatest impact on the audience.

Charles Donoughe, of the Valley Daily News, wrote on November 14, 1969:
If the premiere performance is indicative of the level of quality we might expect from the company, then, Pittsburgh and the surrounding areas can be proud to claim and to support the dancers. For Wednesday night’s program was both exciting and professional.
While Judy McNearney of the Chronicle, wrote on November 20, 1969:
The ballet de corps along with the company’s principal dancers…performed the opening ‘Les Sylphides’ exceptionally well…
The consensus of the Pittsburgh Press’ Carl Geruschat, published on December 19, 1969 was:
The premiere of the newly-formed Pittsburgh Ballet Theater (sic) provided one of the most exciting evenings at the Playhouse in a long time.
Yudenich and Sandonato were Pennsylvania Ballet’s award-winning husband and wife team. He, a native of Yugoslavia, had been imported to Philadelphia by Frano Jelincic, but they did not get along well. I invited them to perform whenever I could schedule them on a program. It was advantageous to have them on the bill. Certainly, they were always the sparkling stars of my productions and the public just loved them. The drawback was that they represented Pennsylvania Ballet, not PBT. However, it was not an issue as the Pittsburgh public was not yet knowledgeable about company affiliations--to them, it was either good or bad--and these dancers were very good.

Our collaboration developed into a profound friendship and they became close friends with Mary and me. He and I shared camaraderie. Sandonato, with her Italian temperament, was always charming, friendly, and cooperative. We spent many evenings in the couple’s Philadelphia home, talking about dance and planning with Barbara Weisberger, PB’s director. As Yudenich was a hot-blooded Yugoslav, we had very heated discussions--always about dance. The duo was constantly in demand, especially after Sandonato won a prize in Varna. Maybe the stress eventually caught up with Alexei. He developed back problems, caused by spinal deterioration and later bone cancer, which took his life.

Barbara Weisberger often helped me and I had to be amiable. However, I remember one thing very clearly--she asked me not to touch any of Balanchine’s ballets because she had built PB’s repertoire on them. By this time, we already had acquired Pas de Dix, an adaptation of Petipa’s Raymonda. I agreed to the request because I relied on her help. My initial idea was to launch our repertory with old warhorses such as The Nutcracker, Swan Lake, Coppélia, Giselle, and so on. I felt that Pittsburgh audiences were better served with traditional story ballets and those by Michel Fokine and Léonide Massine. I also knew that we were too inexperienced for major productions. Later, I hoped to showcase more contemporary works. Weisberger found my plans acceptable. We plotted out future programming. I held to my promise and only later, did I realize that I had put handcuffs on my artistic freedom.
The college operated a Laboratory School, which needed a high school level dance track because by age eighteen, it is already too late to produce a highly qualified ballet dancer--for my faculty and I it was an ongoing struggle to instill correct placement in older teens. Arthur Blum and Loti Falk were intrigued by my suggestion. I convinced them that all great companies had adjunct academic schools--the Paris Opéra School, Royal Ballet School, Kirov School, and Moscow Ballet Academy--that admit ten-year-old middle school students and graduate eighteen-year-old seniors, who have reached the professional performing level. We launched the short-lived Point Park Academy in September of 1970 as one of only two licensed high school programs in Pennsylvania.

We offered all forms of dance to an initial group of nineteen girls and two boys in grades nine through twelve. The goal was to produce students who would be qualified for college admission or ready to audition for professional companies. I was excited about having an arts curriculum and an academic curriculum under one roof, as this was most unusual in the United States.

However, some ideas are ahead of their time and require patience and money to develop and flourish. Two years later, Point Park College plunged into a financial bind and almost folded. To cut costs, the Academy was discontinued.

Many high-powered academic professors and deans were skeptical about--and resistant to--the concept of embedding the arts into an academic environment. President Arthur Blum, however, actually felt that Point Park College would have difficulty competing with other colleges and universities in the academic arena. He saw the arts as a bid for uniqueness and forged the affiliation with the Wind Symphony, purchased the Pittsburgh Playhouse, and facilitated the establishment of Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre. His detractors felt that his dreams were unrealistic and unachievable. When the financial crisis exploded in mid-1973, they blamed Blum for mismanagement of funds. “There is no fire without smoke.” The college’s internal problems were not discussed with me. I was simply an employee with great dreams of the future for dance in Pittsburgh.

Villella was in peak form and famous throughout the U.S. for his television appearances on the “Bell Telephone Hour.” He had an extraordinary cat-like jump, a strong presence, and boundless energy, though Nureyev, who was just catching the attention of American audiences, had a cleaner academic technique. Villella was a very sympathetic person and was well liked by my dancers. He partnered Violette Verdy with great elegance and respect, a sophistication he must have acquired from George Balanchine. I remember a rehearsal for Scenes de Ballet that we held at NYCB--because of his schedule he could not come to Pittsburgh. Villella was extremely tired. Violette and I found him asleep underneath the piano. He apologized. When he stepped into the studio, he was in high gear, ready to rehearse.

I attribute much of my success in Pittsburgh to my relationship with Violette Verdy, who performed in many of my ballets, including The Nutcracker and later my full-length Swan Lake. She was always ready to assist with locating dancers or to perform as needed when she was available. Her reverent and respectful demeanor with others, including me, always generated pleasant relationships.

While Verdy and Villella came as a package deal from NYCB, I had to find a partner for soloist Candace Itow, who had worked with me at the Pittsburgh Opera. It was she, who actually cajoled the aging Istvan Rabovsky to dance the “Black Swan Pas de Deux” with her for this program. Although he was still in great shape, with solid technique, he was dancing in the mannered, early Soviet style. That style exaggerated movements and especially final poses. Yes, it is important for dancers to make movements visible to the audience, but the Soviets had a unique way of underscoring them. This was possibly Rabovsky’s farewell performance--as I am unaware that he made any subsequent appearances. He danced very well and was especially appealing to those who admired his style. Oddly, he reminded me a little bit of René Bon.

Joyce Cuoco was an extraordinary technician. We were inspired by her virtuosity and strength en pointe, exemplified by her ability to seemly turn and balance forever. For example, I walked into a rehearsal studio where she and Kenneth Johnson were conversing. Cuoco was standing in arabesque and I wondered when she would change feet. She did eventually switch and then continued to hold the pose on the opposite leg. In rehearsal for the “Pas de Deux” from William Tell with Bill Martin-Viscount, she executed so many pirouettes that we wondered when she would stop.

Like the Verdy/Villella package, Cuoco and Martin-Viscount were a pre-arranged partnership. Martin-Viscount, a true premiere dancer, had excellent taste, knowledge, and partnering skills. I first saw him perform with the Royal Winnipeg Ballet and decided that I had to bring him to Pittsburgh--which I did frequently. Initially, I had just engaged him, but after seeing Cuoco’s remarkable technique and the reactions of my dancers and the public to it, I realized the advantage of including her on our programs. For the April concert, they performed the “Pas de Deux” from Esmeralda, which suited Cuoco’s technique. We needed good audience response, as this program was mainly intended as a fund-raiser and to introduce ballet to new supporters.

It was always important to include friends on a program. I invited Stevan Grebel and his Florida-born wife Melani Mihalic to perform. They had met at Studio Wacker in Paris, while Stevan was dancing with Ludmila Tcherina. I admired Melani’s professionalism, but she was not my favorite type of dancer. They danced very well together. For our program, they performed the “Pas de Deux” from Don Q.” It displayed their technical bravura. He especially, was brilliant in projecting its Spanish flavor.

I choreographed, the “Pas de Deux” from Gayané for Hillyer and Occhipinti. At PBT’s inception, John, a Pittsburgh native with remarkable technique, was our only resident male professional dancer. He had trained locally with Mario Melodia, Duncan Noble, and Charlotte Mady and had gone on to the Washington School of Ballet in D.C. His tenure in Canada sharpened his interest in the then-popular Soviet style as did his study with Anatole Vilzak and Oleg Tupine. Gayané, which uses music by Aram Khatchaturian, was unknown in the West. It was a novelty for John, who put himself into full steam to do his best.

Hillyer, a professional dancer since age seventeen, liked most of the works that I did. She was enthusiastic about the Gayané duet. Together she and John were harmonious and did a good job. When I revived it later, I realized just how good a job they had done. I am still thankful for their zeal and willingness to be dance pioneers in Pittsburgh. When we see the end product, we tend to forget the great importance of those who built the foundation--without them, all the rest would have been impossible.

I chose Swan Lake, Act III for its bevy of character dances that showcased the strengths of our folk dancers. The evening’s centerpiece was, of course, the “Black Swan Pas de Deux.” The contrast between the fiery Edward Villella and the traditional Istvan Rabovsky yielded two entirely different interpretations. The same was true of Violette, with her mature understanding of the role and Candace, who was a promising soloist. Candace did a very good job. Violette, with her strong personality, sparkling execution, and excellent knowledge of tradition was remarkable and impressive.

Ruth Page and Pittsburgh actress Audrey Roth alternated in the Queen Mother role. Audrey, who often worked for actor Don Brockett, had “the look.” She was perfect for the role, while Ruth, who physically appeared less suited for it, captured its essence and had excellent mime skills.

My version included a Russian princess’ dance, which is rarely found in other productions. I wanted PBT’s repertoire to possess a very traditional representation of Swan Lake. (When I later produced the whole ballet, I incorporated a flamboyant gypsy into Act I’s “cup dance” which created a parallel with the “Black Swan.”) For Act III, I decided to include a female variation, choreographed to an exquisite violin solo. Usually, this is a character dance. I asked Mary if she wanted to do it--at first, she was reluctant, as she thought it would be danced in character shoes. I had instead decided to set it en pointe, but I told her it would be very simple. (Well, it turned out otherwise.) We went into rehearsal and improvised (I had not even counted out the music, which I usually do prior to the first rehearsal). She drew from her own emotions and from her folk dance experiences in Grjebina’s troupe. We built it like a mosaic, developing a section at a time. When we went into full company rehearsal, the other dancers remarked on its beauty, which bolstered Mary’s ego. Although she worried that she was not in top condition to perform it, she was just superb. The Playhouse audience responded enthusiastically and I knew then that the public liked this dance. Its success was repeated at the subsequent performance at the Syria Mosque. Mary danced it so impressively that Violette asked me to teach it to her. (Later JoAnn McCarthy learned it as an alternate; Jordeen wanted to learn it because JoAnn was dancing it: and when Natalia Makarova saw it, she wanted to learn it too.) The piece remains in my repertoire and over the last thirty years, I have often revived it. But, whenever I watch the video, I realize that nobody can do it like Mary did--there was something in the way she moved that made it believable, although JoAnn McCarthy also danced it well.

Wrote Judy McNearney, in the April 16, 1970 issue of the Chronicle:
The epitome of elegance in a dancer was seen in Marion Petrov’s Russian dance in “Swan Lake.” Mrs. Petrov is a classic beauty on stage and her husband’s choreography was obviously a labor of love.
Hernan Perez-Porter and I alternated as the evil Baron von Rothbart. I enjoyed the bombastic feel of this role and performed it with a lot of gusto.

The Spanish dance featured Hillyer; the Neapolitan, Charon Battles with Richard Fox; the Hungarian, McCarthy with James Karlow; and the Mazurka offered various alternate pairings--Hillyer or Ann Corrado with Perez-Porter, Jean Gedeon or Susan Bock with Edward Stewart, and Rosemary Gleeson and John Giffin. Our jesters were Leo Weitershausen, Donald Bradshaw, or Angel Bentancourt, while Benno alternated between Johnson and John Occhipinti. As the fiancées, I cast corps members Bock, Battles, Gleeson, Pamela Klare, Karen Prunczik, and Christine Ratay. McCarthy and Johnson, or Occhipinti were featured in the “Pas de Six.”

Orrin Kayan excelled as Escamillo. Jayne Hillyer portrayed Micaela. I was inclined to compare her role to the opera’s vocal role and felt she was excellent. Mary (cast as Mercedes) and Candace Itow (Frasquita) had lesser roles, but their performances made the most of the material. Both Ruth Page and I were very satisfied with their work.

At the time, we had a small orchestra of seventeen or eighteen musicians that comfortably fit into the Playhouse space. The Pittsburgh Youth Symphony Orchestra’s conductor, Michael Semanitzky was our guest conductor. He was exceptionally skilled in ballet accompaniment, as he had also worked with the Butler University Orchestra. I had met him through Marie Maazel, whose son, the famed conductor Lauren Maazel was the founder and director of the PYSO.

The performances were tremendously successful, judging from the feedback of supporters who were incited to donate. Although the corps de ballet was inexperienced, they had enormous drive, and their zeal was electric. Many had raw talent, and their enthusiasm and love of dance made them outstanding performers. The critics and I thought that they were electrifying and exciting. This performance established Point Park College and Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre as a promising jointure of an academic program with a dance company.

I took advantage of public service announcements and media opportunities, especially aimed to draw television coverage. It was a tedious process, akin to nurturing a baby with baby food. As smaller events had limited staying power in the public’s mind, I felt compelled to do bigger, solidly newsworthy events to attract critical attention.

I wanted to rebuild and relocate The Nutcracker, which had only been presented at the Playhouse. The auditorium was too small and we could not sell enough seats there to breakeven. The ballet needed a big theater and an orchestra. At the time, Heinz Hall was only on the drawing board. We considered a move to the Syria Mosque.

I contacted Mrs. Maazel and Dr. Semanitzky to ask if the PYSO could play for The Nutcracker. To my great satisfaction, the price was right and both of them were interested in the association with the emerging ballet company. The Pittsburgh Youth Symphony accompanied PBT until the Pittsburgh Symphony was mandated to take over. Attorney Ted Hazlett, who headed the Mellon Foundation, commanded and manipulated artistic development in Pittsburgh. The Foundation contributed to PBT. Hazlett attached the stipulation to a fifty thousand dollar grant. Consequently, we were forced to employ the Pittsburgh Symphony, though I felt that the PYSO was better suited to us, as they were more on our level. Semanitzky became our permanent conductor.

My job was to gussy-up the old Nutcracker with new costumes, a new designer, and some new choreography. The choreography was no problem. I needed a designer. On a recommendation, I sought out University of Pittsburgh professor Henry Heymann. He was available and excited. We planned to construct light, easily moved sets so that the ballet could easily tour.

We scheduled Violette Verdy and Edward Villella for four performances. Our company was now richer, as we had acquired one permanent dancer from Russia--Alexander Filipov, who had been recommended by Rabovsky. I extended and created roles in the production specifically for Filipov--White Soldier, in Act I, which suited him and the lead in “Waltz of the Flowers,” where he was just superb. Bill Martin-Viscount, Patricia Klekovic, Kenneth Johnson, and our local stars rounded out the roster.

Several new dancers joined the ensemble, including Joseph Jutec Kacamon. We had fourteen strong, professional dancers and some sixty talented students and children from the community classes division of the school. This was our new beginning and we could not have been happier or more satisfied. The Syria Mosque shows sold-out. We were riding on a winning streak.
Several months before The Nutcracker production at the Syria Mosque, Rabovsky phoned with news that he had discovered a wunderkind in class at American Ballet Theatre School. Alexander Filipov, from the Moiseyev Ballet, who defected from the Soviet Union, was then in New York, taking classes and performing. Rabovsky said the dancer was young, full of energy, and had phenomenal technique. He recommended Filipov as a guest artist.

We met at New York’s Russian Tearoom. He looked boyish and serious. I made an offer, which he accepted. His arrival garnered national news coverage, which was more politically slanted than I would have desired, but certainly it was tremendous exposure for us. As he did not yet speak English, I served as his interpreter. For the local television stations, he performed a variation from Don Quixote in our largest studio. The dancers, faculty, and college administration cheered. His technique was exceptional. He had the clean Vaganova School style, instilled by Alexander Ivanovich Pushkin, one of the best male technique teachers in the world.

He remained on our roster as a guest artist in residence ever after he left ABT to join the San Francisco Ballet. He became my close friend and danced with me until he retired. He also taught at the college. Filipov--whom we all called “Sasha”--was one of those dancers whom I respected, admired, and valued as a friend.
The enormous success of The Nutcracker prompted me to assemble another full-length story ballet--Swan Lake, which we presented at the Syria Mosque. Proud to have an orchestra, a conductor, a designer, and good dancers, I felt gutsy enough to tackle the four-act ballet, which may have been the first full version produced in Pittsburgh.