In the Shadow of the Greats
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| Mary’s focus was more on teaching than on creating choreography or staging ballets. Excellent teachers possess knowledge and experience, plus the ability to communicate with their students, who in turn accept and benefit from the information. While some teachers only teach what they learned as students, the combination of both knowledge and experience is essential. Teaching also develops a learning process for the instructor. Mary understood and accepted this. Hers were carefully constructed, well-planned classes, unlike my improvisations. I remember that she got Asaf Messerer’s book, and from cover to cover, used every combination, every description that he wrote--but she was not teaching by the book. It was only a guideline that kept her organized and focused on the message that she wanted to share with her students. Her strength was in always being prepared. And when a student asked a question about the material, she had a ready answer. (Unlike me, as I often showed a combination and when the students turned at barre to do the other side, I demonstrated something completely different.) However, she was always in competition with me--something pushed her, vanity, maybe--to prove that she was the better teacher.
She did coach Les Sylphides. While I could restage it, for me, it was a very big challenge. I really had to prepare myself and re-learn it every time. Mary knew every detail, even the obscure ones. She had danced Sylphides in London, in Sweden--where we met, and for Evelyne Cournand. She danced it everyday for two years. (Sylphides was coming out of my ears--it was my sleeping pill.) For ADE, she worked with Kenneth, who was fast to restage things, but was unfamiliar with this particular ballet--he was more a dancer/actor like me--while Mary knew it like the back of her hand. They worked well together and got good results. Looking at old posters, I am amazed by the degree of talent and the high quality of ADE’s work. Ballets like Carmina, with its professional costumes, provided our audiences with well-danced, well dressed evenings, while offering our students a taste of professionalism and an incentive to perform. Unfortunately, we were constantly faced with inexperienced newcomers, as our veteran students were graduated. However, we took pride in producing quality dancers, who embarked on successful careers and award-winning achievements--Tome Cousin, Tasha Baron, Rob Davis (Ashford), Cindi Klinger, Rebecca Timms, Jerry Premick, Ruth Leney, and Melinda Cutright, a promising dancer, who instead became an agent. After graduation, a group of them (including Cutright, Ashford, and Joseph Bowerman) leased a New York apartment at Forty-Seventh Street and Eighth Avenue, sharing the twenty-five hundred dollars a month rent. I visited them--they had beds in the hall, in cubby holes, and in closets, but it was the only way they could afford to live in New York City. I revived Rite of Spring to close out the season. It provided both an excellent musical lesson for the inexperienced and an introduction to Stravinsky’s rhythmic complexities. It is easy to create a three to fifteen-minute ballet in 4/4 or 2/4 rhythm, which is commonly used in contemporary jazz and rock music. It is more revealing to work with a score like Stravinsky’s. Ron Tassone contributed the second half of the program with A Salute to Broadway. It unfolded as a chain of dances and short sequences that provided the public with a nice overview of different musicals. And, it pushed our dancers to a new artistic level. Ron did a very good job this time and I was very pleased with his work. The New York-based Nikolais Dance Theatre frequently appeared in Pittsburgh under the auspices of the Pittsburgh Dance Council. During one of the engagements, I met and befriended Alwin Nikolais, who said, “I have a workshop, why you don’t come?” We became very good friends--it was as if we had always known each other. He even permitted me to tape record his workshop sessions, though I agreed not to circulate his material. (I do not know if his book was ever published; I still have a dozen tapes of his voice, complete with background noise and static). In exchange, I gave him a copy of my dance system, based on the Stanislavsky translation--and we compared notes. I recall that he compared a dancer to a propeller and noted that both covered space. “But is the propeller dancing?” he rhetorically asked. His answer was “there is no humanity in the propeller’s motion, as it lacks mental intelligence. Dance is intelligent motion.” And that is what I learned from Alwin Nikolais. He was a sensational person, who gave me enormous respect and although he never danced ballet, he said that we were still “brothers,” as dance is dance. There is no “special dance.”
I studied the Constitution and around 1983, I became an official member of the land of opportunities. In my past, I had harbored dreams and hopes about the American life that I wanted to live. I was quite excited about calling myself proudly American. I felt bigger and more important. The reception held in our honor was sponsored by the Pittsburgh Rotary Club. Mayor Sophie Masloff, who presented the “Welcome” speech, invited me to her table. Going around in my mind, was how to invite her to join ADE’s board. And then I just asked her. She accepted. Additionally, I became acquainted with Rotarian Leslie Dutka and subsequently joined the club, though I knew little about the organization at the time. As my Masonic lodge was in New York, I figured that I could be a Rotarian in Pittsburgh. Soon after joining, I visited the Rotary in Paris and invited Karoly and his wife as my guests. American Dance Ensemble was “our” company. It operated as a collective--Doug did the jazz, Kenneth the classical, and I did the multi-media. There was no research, no recommendations, and no refusals--and that was what I most enjoyed about it. For the 1983 season we repeated some of our past works. I improved Carmen with better ensemble work and more convincing dances. Kenneth revived Mantodeo for Julie Cunningham and Aleksandr Agadzhanov, whose interpretation differed slightly from Linda Kintz’s and Mark Mejia’s. Doug choreographed Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. My new work, the slapstick Je Ne Sais Pas Quois (translated as “I don’t know what”) was constructed with a gymnastic base and a Pilobolus style technique. Sandy Ball arranged the musical collage. Catherine Groetzinger, Joe Bowerman, and Rob Davis (Ashford) did an extraordinary job. I realized that these young men had professional futures. Rob and Joe were close friends and always together. I thought that Joe was the more talented and would be more successful. I focused on Joe, while Rob, who was an observer and a follower, worked hard to fit in. The men were the heart of ADE’s male corps and I could not imagine working without them. After graduation, Joe continued in the theater--as an electrician and a stage manager, while Rob, under the name “Rob Ashford,” appeared on Broadway and later won a Tony award for his choreography. Rob, a personable all-American boy, knew how to give respect and credit. When he returned to Pittsburgh in 2003 with his show, he invited the entire faculty to dinner and provided a post-performance backstage tour at the Benedum Center.
According to Mark Lewis, the college mistakenly believed that it was supporting ADE, possibly because John Hopkins had not officially instituted it as an educational activity of the dance division. Naturally, it was overlooked that the students were performing beyond the minimum requirements of the program. Every dance major had plenty of onstage time, as the full-length ballets used everyone, including the faculty. We annually presented between forty-five and sixty-five programs--not counting lecture demonstrations and festival gigs, which upped the count to seventy or eighty performances per year. In ADE’s ten-year existence, I never recall that any student complained of too few performing opportunities. Comparing these past figures to the present number of performances--which totals thirty-seven, including summer dance performances--it is obvious that we were doing a double job for no money. Today, the performances are officially considered as class time and meet the satisfaction of the faculty’s load. They called me a “slave driver,” as we worked every evening from 6:00 p.m. until 9:30 p.m., on Saturdays from 10:00 a.m. until 6:00 p.m. and on Sundays from noon until 6:00 p.m. The college did not sanction these extra rehearsals and performances; accordingly there was no budget to cover them. Our regular technique and academic classes satisfied the class load for our salaries. Those of us working with ADE--Doug, Kenneth, Ron, and I--were not paid overtime. Consequently, the so-called Rehearsal and Performance course was an unofficial class--we were not paid separately to teach it. I am shocked and surprised that today’s dancers and teachers do not donate their time. They charge for every battement tendu. It feels like being in a taxi with the meter running. I do not criticize those who expect payment for their services. I do realize in the long run that the job required a tremendous effort and those who donated time and expertise were often not appreciated. It is not my intention to discourage others from the dedication needed to create and produce successfully. There is a fine line between being overly generous with your time and being very miserly. But I guess that depends on the temperament and intelligence of the artist. We were never thanked for this enormous effort. The college owes us recognition and acknowledgement for graciously working overtime, which as “in-kind services” contributed to the progress and development of the dance department. Years earlier, during the formation of PBT, the college faculty had been perturbed that we were constantly in the news. I aimed to garner the same attention for ADE and succeeded. Our performances generated media coverage, especially in the Pittsburgh Press which brought the college’s name to the public’s attention. Additionally, our box office and tours netted sixty to eighty thousand dollars per year. That earned income paid for guests, costumes, designers, and our stage manager. Yes, we brought in professionals, who were role models for the students--at very little cost. Today, we import high priced choreographers and incur expense for salaries, travel, and room and board. We also rent costumes that are more expensive than those we produced ourselves. Yet, in the mid-eighties, the college administration believed that it was allowing us to use the facilities and regarded the dance faculty’s output as unnecessary. The February 1984 show opened with the premiere of Ron Cunningham’s Summerset, a symphonic ballet for three couples and Incident at Black Briar, a story of two women torn between their love for each other and a man who complicates the situation. Cunningham, who was then with Boston Ballet did a first rate job. I had seen him in rehearsal at Boston Ballet, just after the company had returned from China. My impulse was to ask Violette if he could stage something for ADE. She gladly agreed. He was also excited about the opportunity. His work was very close to my concepts and to the Jiri Kylián style. At the time, I was planning to revive my old company, Ballet Petrov, and I thought that his high quality work would be perfect for it. Funding issues beleaguered ADE. I asked the National Endowment for the Arts why I was having difficulty obtaining support. The President of the Pennsylvania Council for the Arts and an NEA member, was nice enough to explain the problem. “Nicolas, you are falling through the cracks. As the American Dance Ensemble is a college company and there are professional dancers in it, the company is neither a professional company nor an educational company. So, I suggest that you divide the company into two parts--have the American Dance Ensemble present the students and have another company that will be a concert group, present the professional dancers.” Mulling over what to baptize the new troupe, I realized that reviving my old company, which I had deactivated when I left Paris, might be good. Touring companies received no funding in Europe. Back then, I assembled my dancers and engaged an impresario, who arranged contracts for us. This commercial system, which survives in Europe, is feasible where there is an abundance of freelance dancers. In Europe, audiences are more willing to experiment--if they dislike the show that is of no consequence, while in America, they insist on name artists to guarantee that they will. The name “Ballet Petrov” sounded too much like a Russian troupe, though it was good for a folk ensemble. However, at this point, it was just a façade. I knew that Ballet Petrov could not survive without ADE. It would have been strange to call it “Ballet Petrov of Point Park College” and I hesitated to attach the college’s name to it, fearing that “Ballet Petrov” would lose its professional status. Since the NEA had no qualms about Ballet Petrov performing with ADE, I began to rebuild. For funding purposes we incorporated Ballet Petrov and formally announced it in the newspapers, under the pretense that it was a separate company. A few years later, Mark Lewis was forced to retire by the college’s acting President Matthew Simon and this fund-raising gimmick backfired tremendously. In another fund-raising attempt, I approached the Rockwell Foundation (as Connie Rockwell was on the PBT board and I also knew her husband) for support of both ADE and Ballet Petrov. Mr. Rockwell committed twenty thousand dollars to the dance companies. I was very happy to receive this substantial operations grant. Less than a day passed before President Hopkins summoned me to his office. He said, “Nicolas, what are you doing? You went to the Rockwell Foundation and we also went to the Rockwell Foundation. We were promised two hundred thousand dollars for the college and now we are only getting $180,000 because he gave you twenty thousand dollars.” If I had known, I would not have done it.
Karen, who studied tap with former PBT board member Paul Draper, was the most successful of the group. Karen made a career in musical comedy and by touring the U.S. as a singer/dancer. In New York, she landed the role of Anytime Annie in the show 42nd Street and met David Merrick, its famous producer, whom she later married--and divorced. She brought him to our studios on the second floor of Lawrence Hall and introduced us. He was an extremely charming person. Ron Tassone offered Karen the leading role in his tribute to film star Jean Harlow, which she accepted. I suspect that she felt indebted to us for her early training and also, she wanted to give family and friends in Pittsburgh an opportunity to see her as the Broadway star that she had become. Surprisingly, the platinum blonde wig that the role required did not look bad on her. She said that dancing with us was like coming home again to the Pittsburgh Playhouse where all her dreams of becoming an artist had begun. (And since her father’s death, she has remained here to operate the family business.) I was happy to see Karen, who was always bubbling and bursting with energy. And her work with ADE was a nice reunion. Her presence created a sensation, which generated good attendance. The show was successful--Ron did a very good job. Doug grew restless again and decided to strike out on his own, but this time in Pittsburgh, not in New York. He hoped to raise funds unhampered by a college affiliation. For a time, his The Extension…A Company of Dancers, a jazz troupe of college alumni and advanced students, resided on the South Side. The Jazz Nutcracker, which expanded on Duke Ellington’s musical suite, was one of his most notable works. The concept was interesting, especially the amusing nightclub scene that comprised Act II. The production was modest and fit within his small budget. Later, he lost the rights to present it, but in 2000, he revived it for the college with better décor, costumes, and theatrical production values, including live music. Doug also hit a funding brick wall. He had no backers and nobody offered substantial help. The company was doomed, despite his good ideas, good choreography, and good dancing. Sadly, he failed to find a way to change our destiny, but on the other hand, I felt less ostracized by my unsuccessful fund-raising efforts. Here were two promising companies that collapsed for lack of support, not for lack of artistic merit. I suspected that because I was a foreigner, I had problems, but Doug was a Pittsburgh native. I realized that creating a new company was ill-timed. However, I did not give up. I imported artists from France and provided young choreographers with creative opportunities. The skeptical and destructive criticism of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette did not help to change the opinion of the funding community. 1984-85 American Dance Ensemble Season I was always interested in giving younger choreographers a chance, and, as a compensation for Doug’s absence, I allowed one of our students Tommy Cousin to create pieces for our 1984-85 season. We were impressed with Cousin’s sense of movement and independent style that reflected his personality. Emerging choreographers are always most vulnerable because they must work with friends and peers--there is no distance of experience between the dancers and the choreographer. But he did very well with his assignments--Come and Get These Memories, choreographed to a medley of sixties hits and the witty and spatially interesting Pressure Cookin.’ These experiences, which bolstered his confidence, were his first steps to a successful career. Our predictions were on target with Cousin, who later danced on Broadway and abroad (as Tome Cousin), but we misjudged Preston Simpson, a student with juggling skills, who showed great choreographic promise. He left dance, but remained in Pittsburgh. Initial success does not assure that artists will continue, nurture, or explore their talent to its full potential. That season, I re-choreographed Ninth Symphony to accommodate a smaller, less technically competent cast, without guest stars and I premiered the mysterious Danse Macabre, to Camille Saint-Saëns’ music. For Danse I used black lights and had “ghost” ballerinas--tutus, empty tights, pointe shoes, and some muslin--hanging from overhead fishing lines. The suspended items appeared to float. I dressed the male cast completely in black. They held and carried skeletons that played the violin. Some fought each other with swords. Everyone danced with an invisible partner, wearing black, which also perpetuated the floating effect. I was really proud of my invention, though it was really a black light show and a theatrical trick. Eighteen years had elapsed since Jean Guelis and I had worked together in Paris. I met with him there. He was still choreographing for French television. He also held a good job with Cine Cite in Rome, which was the Italian Hollywood. While he had aged a bit, he really had not changed. I wanted him to work with my company in Pittsburgh and to later take a group of twenty to Europe with a jazz and modern dance repertory. Our name “American Dance Ensemble” had touring appeal abroad and Jean was interested in the deal, but for financial reasons, it failed to gel. Jean always enjoyed creating unusual and interesting work, though in television production, his output was always subject to the producer’s request. He was enthusiastic about the carte blanche offer and, the U.S. gig was attractive. He had not visited the U.S. in many years. As a young boy with an uncommon jump, he won acclaim on tour with Léonide Massine’s Highlights Concert Ballet. Now it was time to return to showoff two pieces of his choreography, a new version of Seven Deadly Sins, with an electronic score and L’Aveugle (The Blind). The backdrop for Sins featured a great devil’s head with an enormous open mouth. The dancers entered through his tongue. Personally, I think it was the best number in the show, which included works by Cousin and me. The music was dramatically different from Kurt Weill’s version. Instead of a melodic bonanza, it erupted as a concrete explosion of sound effects. The stories attached to each sin--greed, pride, envy, anger, lust, gluttony, and sloth, held together by Lucifer--were quite clear to the audience, who could understand and become emotionally involved. At the time, I was still on two legs--as my hip problems were yet to come--but performing in his ballet was not easy, as I really had not danced much since we had last worked together. He gave me the role of an older guy in Greed--the adagio’s lifts were no problem, but I was not in condition for the jumps. Working with Jean was a pleasure, as it brought back good memories--we had done so many ballets and so many shows together from 1954 until 1967. We had also been friends--we got together even when we were not working. Our studio relationship was never clouded with the attitude, “you are my friend therefore I will not listen to you.” For The Blind, Jean used his son Alain’s score. The drama was about a blind man (Joseph Bowerman in our production), who recovers his sight to discover that his family and best friend have lied to him and that he has been manipulated by others. Joe portrayed the character very well. Jean created a body-hugging adagio for Kristen and Peter, as his wife and friend, respectively that was quite effective and telling. 1985-86 American Dance Ensemble Season I was bitter about my failure to raise funds. I was running out of ideas. My enthusiasm lapsed. I decided to import other companies and to create a dance festival, instead of programming concerts for ADE. The Nutcracker was the only opportunity for our students to perform. It was unjust to create a festival that excluded them, but I was discouraged. My detractors--Joseph McGoldrick in particular--convinced the students that I was not interested in them. We performed The Nutcracker at the University of Pittsburgh’s Stephen Foster Memorial Theatre because the Playhouse was booked for another event that promised a larger box office than we would draw. The subscription season also carried the Lynda Martha Dance Company, Ballet Petrov, and Choreo-Expo 86. I knew of Lynda Martha (who was originally from Pittsburgh) and her company from my visits to Chicago, where it was based. I made a trip to see it and was impressed with her class and her troupe--very professional, very controlled. I extended an invitation, which she accepted. During a weeklong residency, the group performed two separate programs with choreography by Kate Kuper, Ricardo Moyano, Anna Paskevska, and Lynda Martha. The gig was successful, as Lynda’s Pittsburgh-based family helped to advertise the concerts and bolster attendance. Moyano subsequently choreographed for Ballet Petrov and appeared in ADE’s The Nutcracker on tour in Ohio.
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