by Jillian Leigh, Ampersandology
I have this thing for talent. Someone possessing it in any great measure automatically becomes more attractive to me. So of course, the first time I ever saw Mikhail Baryshnikov move was something of a revelation for me, one that hasn't tarnished since.
No, seriously, I've had a crush on him since I was 14. No joke.
Have you seen him move? It's less a movement than a kinetic implosion. Watching him dance is like watching water flow over a riverbed. His body carries an internal rhythm that is only betrayed when the music begins, and by gum, I could, and have, watched him perform all day long. Also, he is cool; you can just tell by that insouciant smirk or the indolent lines of his clothes.
I'd wager that your average bear will most likely recognize Mikhail Baryshnikov from his unfortunate stint on Sex & the City. But that's not his first brush with Hollywood by a long shot; his debut was as the rakish dancer Yuri in the 1977 ballet classic The Turning Point.
His career is illustrious, and reading his resume is like reading a guide on How to Become a Success in Dance: started ballet school in 1960 at the age of 12. At 19, joined the Kirov Ballet and made his debut at the Marriinsky Theater in Giselle. Performed with the National Ballet of Canada in La Sylphide before heading to the United States. Returned to the American Ballet Theatre to dance and serve as artistic director, a position he held through 1990. Launched the Baryshnikov Arts Centre in New York in 2004.
I used to dance--from roughly age 5 until I was 13. I stopped at that age because even at that tender age, I knew that I wasn't really serious or, quite frankly, good enough to take it any farther. But because of that spell, I've always nursed a fascination with anything that deals in any measure with dance and those consumed by it. And why not? The discipline that dancers ingrain in the smallest portions of their daily lives...forget Fiona Apple, they are the extraordinary machines.
To me, Baryshnikov has always represented one of the first male dancers to bring an utterly masculine, completely bold sensuality to ballet. He was a talent on his own merit, with or without a partner. He was actually shorter than average for a dancer, and given that he'd never tower over a ballerina en pointe, should have been regulated to secondary roles. But he defected to Canada, claiming asylum in Toronto, and now claims the enviable position as a household name (at least, in neighborhood of an artistic persuasion).
So, behold my dear little dancing man: performing Le Jeune Homme et la Mort.
No, seriously, I've had a crush on him since I was 14. No joke.
Have you seen him move? It's less a movement than a kinetic implosion. Watching him dance is like watching water flow over a riverbed. His body carries an internal rhythm that is only betrayed when the music begins, and by gum, I could, and have, watched him perform all day long. Also, he is cool; you can just tell by that insouciant smirk or the indolent lines of his clothes.
I'd wager that your average bear will most likely recognize Mikhail Baryshnikov from his unfortunate stint on Sex & the City. But that's not his first brush with Hollywood by a long shot; his debut was as the rakish dancer Yuri in the 1977 ballet classic The Turning Point.
His career is illustrious, and reading his resume is like reading a guide on How to Become a Success in Dance: started ballet school in 1960 at the age of 12. At 19, joined the Kirov Ballet and made his debut at the Marriinsky Theater in Giselle. Performed with the National Ballet of Canada in La Sylphide before heading to the United States. Returned to the American Ballet Theatre to dance and serve as artistic director, a position he held through 1990. Launched the Baryshnikov Arts Centre in New York in 2004.
I used to dance--from roughly age 5 until I was 13. I stopped at that age because even at that tender age, I knew that I wasn't really serious or, quite frankly, good enough to take it any farther. But because of that spell, I've always nursed a fascination with anything that deals in any measure with dance and those consumed by it. And why not? The discipline that dancers ingrain in the smallest portions of their daily lives...forget Fiona Apple, they are the extraordinary machines.
To me, Baryshnikov has always represented one of the first male dancers to bring an utterly masculine, completely bold sensuality to ballet. He was a talent on his own merit, with or without a partner. He was actually shorter than average for a dancer, and given that he'd never tower over a ballerina en pointe, should have been regulated to secondary roles. But he defected to Canada, claiming asylum in Toronto, and now claims the enviable position as a household name (at least, in neighborhood of an artistic persuasion).
So, behold my dear little dancing man: performing Le Jeune Homme et la Mort.
2 comments:
I agree with everything you said here. However, I find it endlessly funny to know that he is incredibly short. A girlfriend of mine was very much in love with him and had opportunity to see him after a performance. She was heartbroken when she saw him afterwards, but almost missed him because she was looking up instead of down. Didn't change her love of his talent, just him as a man.
Given that I am no towering Amazon myself, I find this news rather heartening. In other news, I am short; or, as the French say and I prefer, petite!
In related news, I had the same reaction to Hawksley Workman...he can't be much taller than me. It doesn't change the fact his words are like slightly warm gingerbread, HOWEVER. I cannot unknow that fact.
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