Prodigal Son: Dancing for Balanchine in a World of Pain and Magic

352 Pages·1998·21.785 MB·English

by  Edward Villella, Larry Kaplan

Prodigal Son
Edward
VIllella
with LARRY KAPLAN
of
University Pittsburgh Press
on
DANCING
FOR
BALANCHINE
IN A WORLD
OF PAIN
AND MAGIC
Published 1998 by the University of Pittsburgh Press, Pittsburgh, Pa. 15261
Originally published by Simon and Schuster
Copyright © 1992 by Edward Villella
All rights reserved
including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form
Manufactured in the United States ofA merica
Printed on acid-free paper
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Villella, Edward, 1936-
Prodigal son : dancing for Balanchine in a world of pain and magic /
Edward Villella with Larry Kaplan.
p. cm.
Includes index.
ISBN 0-8229-5666-7 (alk. paper)
1. Villella, Edward, 1936- . 2. Ballet dancers-United States-
Biography. I. Kaplan, Larry. II. Tide.
GV1785.V56A3 1998
792.8'028'092---dc21 97-45770
[B] CIP
Every effort has been made to identify the source of material used in the
picture section. Should additional information be supplied, the appropriate
correction will be made in any future printings.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
By my count, this is at least the fifth book written by a New
York City Ballet dancer about George Balanchine. Balanchine
was such a multifaceted individual that each person who stood
before him and worked with him has his or her own sense of
the man, based on their relationship. I think the reading public
must be aware by now of the many different aspects of this
extraordinary figure. I can't say that the definitive George Bal
an chine will be found on these pages, but this is my version of
Mr.B.
I want to thank Lincoln Kirstein, Jerome Robbins, Betty
Cage, the School of American Ballet, and the New York City
Ballet for the influence they've had on my life; and I also want
to acknowledge Stanley Williams, Janet Roberts, Marcia Preiss,
and Buddy Monasch. These are people who have sustained me.
They have been pivotal in my development as an artist and as a
human being. I want to acknowledge my sister, Carolyn, who
now runs a very successful ballet school in upstate New York,
and my parents for the values they imparted to me and the love
they always gave me.
I'd like to thank all the ballerinas I danced with during my
career but haven't mentioned in the text; and also David Eden,
Tony Randall, and the late Harry Reasoner.
I'd like to express my gratitude to Arlene Croce, whose
New Yorker profile prompted my literary agent, Faith Hamlin, 5
to contact me. This book has benefited from the projected one
Arlene and I talked about but never wrote.
I'd like to thank my collaborator, Larry Kaplan. I'm a
talker not a writer, and I think he's captured as near as possible
the essence of my voice. This was a wonderful professional
relationship, and it has evolved into a friendship.
And I'd like to thank Faith Hamlin for initiating the project
and for working on it devotedly every step of the way.
I'd especially like to thank our editor, Alice Mayhew, for
her vision of the book, her invaluable editorial guidance, and
her enthusiasm throughout.
Thanks also to Marcia Preiss for her commitment to this
project and for assembling the photographs for this book; to
George Hodgman for his insight into the manuscript; to Eric
Steel for his help; and to Charles Hayward, Dan Farley, Edith
Fowler, Victoria Meyer, Mike Keller, Linda Hetzer, Joseph
Spadafora, Frosene Sonderling, David Martin, and Bill
Eppridge.
E.V.
6
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my lovingfamily-my wife, Linda,
who showed me the human side of life,
and my children, Roddy, Lauren, and
Crista, who taught me so much.

PROLOGUE: JUNE 1990
S
tanding center stage at the New York City
Ballet, I felt I had made a pact with the
devil. I was an addict returning to his old delicious poison. A
decade after my retirement I was dancing a role created for me
nineteen years before, and loving it. The whole thing, from the
actual dancing to the feeling of the lights on my body, was a
turn-on, a reminder of what my life had been about. After
more than twenty years as a leading dancer with the New York
City Ballet, I had been forced to quit without a proper finale.
Now, I finally had the chance to say good-bye.
When Jerome Robbins first asked me to return to the stage,
I howled. I hadn't danced onstage for nine years, and as head
of the Miami City Ballet my schedule was already a disaster.
How could I find time to rehearse and perform for Jerry Rob
bins, the perfectionist of perfectionists? His rehearsals never
ended. There was something else, too: the pain. Throughout
my career I had been in constant pain. But I had just kept
pushing my poor battered body. I had punished myself for
years, and even though the movement in Watermill was limited,
I didn't know if I still had the energy or desire to dance. But I
knew that if I did do it, I wanted to do it right. I didn't want to
be a pale imitation of myself in my prime.
The role meant wearing a dance belt and absolutely noth-
ing else 98 percent of the time, and at fifty-three I didn't think 9