Madrid, 2007

In September 2007 I was invited to dance the "Dying Swan" at a gala in Madrid, honoring Maya Plisetskaya (for the none- dancers, she was one of the most legendary interpreters of the role, and actually danced it until she was well into her 60s). She is now 82, and meeting her was such an experience, that I started writing about it while on the airplane back to the states that weekend.

Madrid, September 10^th 2007

When I was first asked to perform the Dying Swan at a Gala in Madrid, I had no idea how important this event was going to be. And even when I heard that it was a Gala honoring none other than Maya Plisetskaya, I still had no way of knowing what awaited me on the 10^th of September at the Teatro Real.

Here I was – in a taxi in Madrid – all by myself, with a suitcase and a Tutu. Tatiana, the coordinator of the spectacle greeted me at the Hotel and asked me if I wanted a tour of the theater. I dropped my things, took a quick shower and met her downstairs just a few minutes later.

We walked the two minutes to the backstage door and entered the only 10 year old theater, which was built in a very grand, traditional way. Tatiana took me to the stage, and I was instantly overwhelmed by the size of the space. I could not believe I was going to perform here only 24 hours later.

As we walked through the halls and met some of the organizers, a very nervous lady walked up to one of the managers, telling her: “Mme Vishneva has changed her mind regarding her return to Moscow. She learned that the crown prince will attend the reception after the show, and she now wants to post pone her flight in order to attend the reception as well.”

Oh dear……… Vishneva… Crown Prince… reception…

What was happening???

I went back to the hotel to take a nap and to reflect on my life. I slowly realized that this weekend might very well turn into an experience I would never forget.

When I woke up later in the afternoon I had the sudden urge to buy a phone card, call people and tell them about my excitement. I went to the front desk to get directions to a store, when I felt a hand rubbing my back. I turned to my right to see who it was, and almost fainted when I saw that the hand belonged to Maya Plisetskaya. I just stared at her. I tried to speak… but I couldn’t. There she was, smiling at me, and I could not say a word. I was just not prepared. Finally her hand moved down my arm, she held my hand and said:”Hello”

“It is very nice to meet you”, I answered.

She asked me how my flight was and said that she was looking forward to seeing me perform. I said that I was excited to be here – and a little nervous. She squeezed my hand and said:” Don’t be! Relax and enjoy”. Even her Russian accent (which usually gives me the creeps) sounded wonderful. She held my hand for a few more moments until she pulled me towards herself, hugged me and said:” I will see you tomorrow. Sleep and rest.”

I completely forgot what I came down for to do, went back to my room and sat on my bed. Needless to say: there were not enough sheep in the world to count for me to go to sleep, and I finally had to take a pill.

I was woken up by a phone call from Tatiana.

“Do you want to go to the Theater already?”

I knew it was way too early (it was not even 10am – my rehearsal was not until 3pm), but I said I would be in the lobby in twenty minutes. She walked me to the theater and I changed into dance clothes. My dressing roommate was Igor Kolb – soloist with the Bolshoi and Diana Vishnevas partner in Manon for this evening. I went to the studio, thinking I would just do some warm up – maybe a barre, stretching and breaking in my emergency pair of pointe shoes. I sat down near the door, looked around me and saw that I was surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world. Tamara Rojo was already doing center exercises… across from me was Diana Vishneva and Igor Kolb. Down the barre were Ilza Liepa, Maria Aleksandrova, Andre Uvarov, and Natalia Osipova…

Suddenly somebody started counting in Russian, and I realized that Nikolai Tsiskaridze – principal dancer with the Bolshoi – started to teach class. There was a side of me that instantly freaked out and wanted to run. But there was a stronger side of me that made me get up, hold on to the barre and think:” I will never have another chance at taking class with Bolshoi stars”!

Drenched in sweat I went to my dressing room, got changed and walked back to the hotel. I had two hours until my rehearsal, and there was still the question of what to wear for the reception. I mean… what does one wear at a party for – and attended by – Mme Plisetskaya?

With the right outfit in the bag I went to have a coffee, and back to the theater. It was almost time for my run through. This is when I first met Andris Liepa – chairman of the Maris Liepa charity foundation, and artistic director of this evening’s event. I was called onto the stage by the stage manager, and started my rehearsal with music and light – without costume. The thing about us Trocks is that a lot of things only make sense once you see the complete picture (Tutu, make- up, wig, audience…) and so I could tell that Mr. Liepa was not quite sure what to think of the guy in pointe shoes, doing the dying swan in sweat pants and t- shirt. He kept quiet, gave me some hard to judge looks and continued his Don Quixote rehearsal. But to me the rehearsal went well, and the people helping me were great.

After some last minute technical clarifications and another break I started doing my makeup. I thought about what makeup to wear for days now, and it went on without problems. I was the last performer in the first act, but wanted to be done by the time the show started. Igor asked for makeup tips, and kept making fun of my “fans” – the administrative staff of the Kirov, who kept coming in to witness my transformation.

The gala started with a ten minute film, showing clips of Maya Plisetskaya’s most important roles. I stood backstage (next to Carlos Acosta) and watched it on a monitor. When the music for the Dying Swan started, and I watched the black and white clip of this legend dancing, my eyes started tearing up. I guess this was the moment when I really realized what I was about to do.

Roaring applause filled the house, and the program started with Tamara Rojo dancing a tribute to Isadora Duncan. She was amazing – especially since I have never seen her do anything like it. Next were Ilza Liepa and Marc Peretokin, dancing a Pas de deux from Madame Bovary, followed by Maria Aleksandrova and Andrei Uvarov dancing the Black Swan Pas de deux. This incredible performance was followed by Diana Vishneva and Igor Kolb dancing Manon. I luckily saw their rehearsal earlier in the day, since I could not see them perform. I was on right after, and had to get prepared in the back.

And here I was. The applause for Manon calmed down… the spot light for my Dying Swan did its usual crossings of the stage… the music started and I went out there. I don’t remember much. I remember seeing my shadow on the back drop during my entrance. I remember wondering if I have crossed the center mark yet, and the last thing I remember was Diana Vishnevas face right in the wing, and thinking: “how nice of her to stay after just finishing her Pas”. And then I stopped thinking, and started enjoying. I relaxed, and relied on everything I know about what I do.

My music ended. I was on the floor in my final pose, the light faded to black and I started hearing applause and screaming from the audience and from the sides of the stage. It was an unforgettable moment.

I got up in the dark – as rehearsed -, posed, waited for the spot to pick me up, and started my bowing routine. After my bows I walked off the stage and was instantly congratulated by all the dancers and Mr. Liepa, which I appreciated very much. The great thing was that we all came from different places, with different backgrounds, carreers, goals and different things to offer. But no matter how different our lives are, for this one night we were all here with a common goal, working for the same thing. And when I walked off that stage with my little bouquet of flowers in my arm, I could feel exactly that. The place was filled with respect and appreciation – from and for every person involved.

I got to watch the second act from backstage, which included some great Ballets and artists. The most notable to me were Tamara Rojo and Carlos Acosta dancing a Pas from Mayerling, and Natalia Osipova and Dimitry Belogolovtsev in Don Quixote Pas de deux. She is a young girl – just graduated from school, and is considered a “new” Bolshoi star. She was wonderfull, and one of the best Kitri’s I have ever seen!

Finally Maya Plisetskaya took center stage. She danced a three minute solo with two Japanese fans. Bejarts choreography was called “Ave Maya”, performed to Bach’s “Ave Maria” – now that’s what I call a diva, in the best possible sense. Her presence was overwhelming. All of us dancers stood on the sides of the stage in awe. You could hear a pin drop. There was nothing to do but cry. I don’t think I can find the right words to describe this Lady. She is pure beauty – inside and out. At 82 years old her body may have lost its youth and some of its strength, but her eyes are filled with passion, knowledge, love, fire, warmth, grace and peace. A truly great person.

After repeating her solo, she called all of us back onto the stage for the final bows. It was magical. We kept applauding her, and she kept blowing kisses in our direction. After about ten minutes of applause, the curtain finally fell, and we all surrounded her – bowing. She slowly moved from dancer to dancer, shaking each ones hands and saying a few words. When she reached me, she stepped back and applauded. She came close again, and gave me the most wonderful compliments. I had no way of responding, other than thanking her for her kindness and for the honor of performing for her.

A group of people approached the stage, and it became clear very soon that it was Prince Felipe with wife and staff. There is really not much to say about him – it is not like he came in with horse and sword. Just a really tall guy in a really expensive suit. He was very nice though, making his round shaking hands with all of us while being surrounded by reporters and photographers. His wife followed very elegantly, we applauded one more time (cause when in doubt, applaud), and the royals left.

I thanked Mr. Liepa and some of my Russian staff “fans”, and went back to my dressing room to get changed and ready for the party.

The reception was amazing. It was held on the balcony of the Teatro Real, overlooking the park and palace. The night was warm and clear and perfect. I got a glass of wine and enjoyed a nice conversation with our European presenter, Gillian. After another glass, I finally had the courage to mingle and take pictures with people. I had a photo op with my favorite Kitri, who – aside from being a great dancer – turned out to be the sweetest girl one can ever meet. Shy, humble, funny, nice, and more of a tom boy than a Ballerina. Mr. Liepa insisted on taking a “guy-picture” with his principal dancers and me. My Russian “fan” called anybody over I was interested in talking to (it is good to have connections!), and the whole thing was a blast.

Suddenly a very nervous Gillian came running, saying with her British accent that “ you simply must come with me NOW. Mme Plisetskaya agreed on taking pictures with you”.

I left my wine, dropped my cigarette, left the guys and fought my way across the crowded balcony. There she was, looking absolutely stunning. She stopped her conversation as soon as she saw me, reached her hands for me, gave me a long hug and looked me in the eyes, for what seemed to be an eternity. She finally said:” You were wonderful! Your legs, your arms, your performance. Beautiful and funny.” She looked around and paused when she realized that we were surrounded by photographers. She put her arm around my waist and posed. At some point she looked up at me and said:” You know… anybody can learn how to do fouettes. But what you have, one cannot learn. You are a true artist, and I want to thank you for being here.” I could just smile and thank her as she was holding my hand and complimenting me on a role that was her signature. I finally looked at her and said:” I have a confession to make”. She pointed at her ear and said:” Tell me quietly”. I whispered: “I can’t do fouettes!” she started laughing and answered:” No need. There are more important things!”

We talked for a little longer, still holding hands until she was called for another photo. I was left standing there in amazement. I think people around me tried talking to me – I may have even answered. But my thoughts were caught up in the fact that I just had a moment with the legendary Maya Plisetskaya. I kept saying to myself: now I can die happily!

A Russian reporter was very interested in Trockadero, and tied me into an interesting conversation. It was great, because he knew so much about dance, was such a lover of ballet – and understood and appreciated our approach to the art form instantly. We were interrupted when Maya (I call her by her first name now) took my hand, saying good night, and that she needed to get some sleep now. I wished her a good night and thanked her one last time. She walked away, and I followed her with my eyes as she stepped through the theatrical red velvet curtains into the foyer of the theater. What happened now, I will never forget in my entire life. She stopped just inside the door, turned to me, looked me in the eyes, blew a kiss at me with both hands and bowed down to her knee, putting her hands to her chest. She got up, smiled one more time and disappeared. I could not even breathe. So many thoughts went through my head… “how did I deserve this?”… “what an honor”… “I need a drink”… ”I am so stealing this bow for my dying swan!!!”

I went for a little walk on the balcony, and started talking to Tamara Rojo. She was very sweet and funny – telling me that she saw Trockadero perform several times in London, and that she loves what we do. She invited me to take class with the Royal Ballet anytime I was there, and told me about having danced Mayerling instead of Corsaire because she broke her foot recently ( now THAT’S commitment!).

It was now time for me to leave as well, and I made my round saying good bye to all the people I had met. I went back to my dressing room to get my things (took a picture of the name tag on the door saying “Sr Igor Kolb & Sr Bernd Burgmaier”… some things just scream for photographic evidence) and made my way out. I ran into the “guys” and Natalia Osipova (who seems to be part of the guy- group) in the hallway, and chatted for a few more moments. They assured me to come see our shows in Russia next year, and went on their way.

Back in my hotel room I didn’t know what to do with myself. I went for another glass of wine to an outside restaurant with Gillian, which was great fun. I usually only know her within the atmosphere of work and it was very nice to share some more personal moments with her. The restaurant closed, and we were forced to go back to the hotel and get some rest.

I sat down at a computer in the hotel lobby to write some e-mails. I just had to tell people about my experiences and my excitement of the past two days. As I wrote, I heard Russian voices approaching. It was Andris and Ilza Liepa with Marc Peretokin. They smiled, and walked past me to the elevator. While waiting for the doors to open, Andris turned to me and said:” You know… I called Maya a few weeks ago and asked her if she was sure about having a man dance her signature role at her gala, and she said “yes, it will be great!” so I said, Maya – it is your gala and your choice.” I didn’t quite know where he was going with his comment, and after a pause he continued, “I was skeptical – even after your rehearsal. But once the show started and you danced, you stole the show. Maya was right, and I will never question her judgment again. Congratulations.”

I thanked him for his support and for allowing me to be part of such a great evening, as he reached into his pocket. “Here”, he said, holding his hand out. “Take my card, and contact me if you ever need anything.” We said good night, and they disappeared into the elevator.

This is how my weekend in Madrid ended. I treated myself to a small bottle of champagne from the mini bar and went to sleep.

The days I spent in Spain will forever remain in my memory as one of the greatest experiences of my life. Having danced the Dying Swan for the most famous interpreter of the role… having held her hand… having watched these amazing artists work up close… having met the people I have met. There are no words to describe how much all of this meant to me. Having been part of something so big is more than I ever dared to dream of. These days have touched me on so many levels – artistically, mentally, and intellectually, and it is amazing to me how one experience can open a person’s mind, heart and soul.

This eye opening weekend reminded me that I should be very proud of many things - which I am. I am proud of me for having followed my dreams, for having worked hard, and for having instinctively packed my favorite shirt to wear to the reception, before I even knew there was a reception! I am proud of being part of Ballets Trockadero, and for having been allowed to make my artistic home there. And finally, I am very proud of the fact that Ballets Trockadero has reached a point where we perform at places like the Bolshoi, the Chatelet and at Galas like the one I had a chance to perform in. It says so much about our efforts, our work and about the world. People recognize what we do and appreciate that – show by show, city by city, country by country – we make this world a little more beautiful and a little more fun.