Words on Dance, Cowell Theatre, Fort Mason Center, San Francisco
Octavio Roca in Conversation with Lorena Feijoo
October 15, 2001

In a perfect complement to the Ballet Nacional de Cuba's performances at Berkeley last weekend, Words on Dance and Deborah DuBowy presented a delightful evening of conversation between the Cuban-trained principal dancer for San Francisco Ballet, Lorena Feijoo, and the San Francisco Chronicle's dance critic, Octavio Roca. The evening was, in many ways, an encomium for and a study of the enduring influences that Alicia Alonso and the Cuban style have exerted on classical dance.

In fact, the evening opened with parallel films of Alonso performing her signature role of Giselle in 1965, followed by Feijoo in the same segments of the ballet. Most fascinating was seeing both similarities in style, as well as differences in musicality and attack. Feijoo, who was born in Havana and trained at the national school, offered many insights into the role, noting with some humour that to the younger dancers' dismay, Alonso did not allow anyone to perform Giselle until they were thoroughly coached and trained in the Romantic style and had an absolute comprehension of the role, a process that might take years. Feijoo pointed out a few of the myriad details that needed to be absorbed before one "had the style", and Feijoo shared some of the ideas given her by her own coaching from Alonso, and Alonso's ex-husband Fernando Alonso, much of which revolved around an understanding of what concepts were to be communicated by the dancing. For instance, she noted that the two Wili soloists in Giselle's second act, Moyna and Zulma, danced variations meant to show the manner in which they had died, one throwing herself from a cliff (thus the many jumping steps) and the other drowning in a maelstrom (thus the turning and renversŽ steps). Every detail, Feijoo noted, was important, whether you were a corps member or Giselle: the roundedness of the curve of the neck, the lean forward in the torso, the way the head must move before the body were all part of the inculcation of the style. And it was here that this lecture format showed its strength.

Much is written about dance, and volumes upon volumes have been written about Giselle itself, but to see Feijoo almost unconsciously demonstrate the differences in styles, the movements of the arms, and more, to hear her articulate the thought-process that goes into the preparation for a role, was invaluable in understanding how great performances are built and passed on. There is a stereotype that ballet dancers are somewhat weak-minded creatures that have only pointe shoes and leg warmers on their brains, but there is no better way to refute this than to have them talk about their work, and Feijoo is a discerning and lucid voice for her art. It was heartening to discover that all the things that one loves best about Feijoo's dancing in particular are details that have been carefully imagined, weighed and honed before making their appearance onstage.

In addition to the film of Giselle, the audience was treated to clips of Joan Boada (who had originally been scheduled to appear and be interviewed, but who had undergone surgery only days before for an injury) dancing in the pas de deux from Le Corsaire, parts of The Prodigal Son, a solo from Diana and Actaeon and in his star turn with Tina Le Blanc in The Flames of Paris. Also on the program was footage of Feijoo in Raymonda, Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux, and Nacho Duato's Without Words. The films served often as a jumping-off point for discussion of the technique and training of the Cuban dancers, which Feijoo noted was much more wholistic than American training, and which includes character dance, music, French lessons and acting, in addition to the typical ballet classes. Nevertheless, when asked about the current state of the company, Feijoo frankly replied that it was quite different from her time, when there had been many more strong principals and it had been an older company. "Now a lot of their good products [of the school] have left, not because of the company, but because of the situation of the country." The Cuban company has many opportunities, she said, to perform the classical ballets, but is more limited with other works and with their physical resources.

Even so, the training is impeccable; what she calls a mix of Italian and Russian schools and some things that are purely Alicia Alonso. High on her list of what is most important in a dancer is hard work. Even as video of her own elegantly controlled variation from Raymonda rolled, Feijoo confided that she was pointing her feet harder while watching it. "You want to be better than what you're watching," she remarked, commenting that as a dancer one is rarely satisfied with any performance. The power of hard work, Feijoo observed, can make a huge difference, as in the case of her colleague, Joan Boada. "I was there, I remember, he had a terrible time when he was young..." But strengthening and flexibilty work paid off for Boada, who now, as a principal at the San Francisco Ballet is known for his astonishing technique, which includes triple sauts de basque tours and powerful turns.

Whether in a tutu or a stunning evening gown, Feijoo proved to be a gracious and disarmingly generous presence, whose shrewd and forthright presence succeeded in captivating yet another audience. One can only look forward to the next Words on Dance when Jack Anderson interviewing the great Ballet Russe de Monte-Carlo principal, Frederic Franklin.

Read a review of the Ballet Nacional de Cuba's Coppélia.

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This review initially appeared on criticaldance.com, October 18, 2001.

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