Alicia Alonso in 2003 - back in Southern California © Ballet Nacional de Cuba Alicia Alonso interview Ballet Nacional de Cuba Reviews Anjuli Bai reviews

In 1977 the San Diego Ballet invited Alicia Alonso to dance with them. Anjuli Bai was in class when she arrived and records what happened...


Prima Ballerina Alicia Alonso had gained her fame in New York in the 1940's as a founding member of American Ballet Theatre and her star ascended and continued to ascend through the rest of the century. She and Igor Youskevitch formed one of the most famous partnerships of the era. She created the roles in a number of ballets including Theme and Variations, Fall River Legend and Undertow. In the 1960's as international relations between her native country, Cuba, and the United States turned cold she had to make a choice because of the travel restrictions placed against Cuba. She chose Cuba. For many years, though she traveled globally and danced on the most renowned stages of the world, the United States was bereft of her art. Americans often went to Canada to see her - but she could not return the favor. Then in the 1970's travel restrictions were eased and she was able to come to the United States.

There are a number of roles within the classical ballet that represent the epitome of a ballerina's artistry. However, the ballet Giselle not only presents vast technical difficulties, it is also considered to be the Hamlet of a ballerina's repertoire. The dancer's dramatic and technical range is on view to the fullest extent. In this particular ballet, Alicia Alonso excels. She is considered one of the 20^th century's foremost exponents of Giselle and it is her favorite ballet.

In 1977 the San Diego Ballet extended an invitation to Prima Ballerina Alicia Alonso to perform with the company at the Civic Theatre in San Diego. The temerity of this invitation coming from a relatively small little known company was breathtaking. Even more startling, Alicia Alonso accepted. She not only agreed to come, but to dance her greatest role, Giselle. Why she chose to accept the invitation of the San Diego Ballet is a question that has never been answered. She could have chosen to dance anywhere - anywhere at all.

The ballerina agreed to dance two performances of Giselle and one of Le Peri. Unfortunately, her arrival was delayed by several weeks when the ballerina took ill. However, this only served to increase the general anticipation. I planned to attend all three performances.

At the time, though I was not a member of the San Diego Ballet, I was taking a daily ballet class with the company. Because of the travel restrictions, the company dancers had never seen the legendary Alicia Alonso, but everyone was steeped in her fame. As we, the company and I, stood at the barre that morning we took our class literally trembling with excitement. No, she was not in the studio with us; she would take her class privately accompanied by her special partner, Jorge Esquivel. The ballerina had found Jorge, a hungry orphan on the streets of Havana, had taken him in and trained him to be her partner. He was a marvelous dancer.

Just as our class finished, the ballerina, her entourage and a large contingent of the press arrived. The fabled Alicia Alonso stood before us and was formally introduced. The dancers applauded, hardly able to believe their eyes. Everyone was asked to leave the room so the ballerina's private class could begin. The other dancers as well as the press and cameras were shut out and the door was firmly closed. I had gone to the corner of the studio to retrieve my dance bag, but instead of leaving I sat down on the floor, drew my knees up to my chin and made myself invisible. I would be a fly on the wall, a speck of dust, non-existent. My decision to stay was made on the spur of the moment, completely without plan. I know they saw me but did not ask me to leave. I have never been able to understand why everyone else was told to go and I was allowed to stay.

Prima Ballerina Alicia Alonso walked to the barre. By chance she chose the exact spot where I usually stood during class. A large window allowed a shaft of sunlight in and into that shaft of light she stepped and stood. The dust motes that swirled about filtered the sunlight and softened her image and increased the magic. She placed an alabaster hand on the dark sweat soaked barre and drew herself up - back straight - head up - ready for the day's work to begin. The pianist played. She pointed her toe. Ah, I thought, that is how a pointed toe really should be! The love and toil of fifty years went into that simple movement. The firm curve of the arch of her foot, its grace and fluidity took my breath away. Expressive as a hand, that foot could punctuate the music or caress the floor. The pink satin of her slipper glowed softly and the ribbons sculpted her ankle. She turned her face toward the sunlight and I am sure she felt its warmth as it dimly penetrated her eyes. For, you see, this great ballerina is blind.

In a daze I watched the rest of her class. She did exactly the same things all of us did everyday. But she filled the room with her presence as she had filled the dimensions of every theater in which she had danced. She possessed the space around her as she had taken possession of every stage upon which she had stepped. This woman before me had danced with the great companies of the world and the great male dancers of her time. The capitals of countries around the globe had applauded her from New York to Beijing. For decades her name had first claim on a theater marquee. Like fine wine this truly great ballerina had become even finer with age.

Later I watched her in rehearsal with the dancers of the San Diego Ballet. She danced every role of the ballet becoming in succession the young Giselle, or the mother, or the visiting princess. She showed the rest of the dancers exactly what she wanted as well as how to think about each role. Because of her blindness every prop and dancer had to be exactly placed so the ballerina would know where they were on the stage. The dancers were awed, overwhelmed, enthralled. They were also jealous of me, the only one to have seen Alicia Alonso take her class.

Later that day when I left I was brought sharply back from a world of legend and magic to the realities of a busy city. The studios of the company at that time were located downtown and I had parked on a city street. I found multiple parking tickets on the windshield of my car. But it was with a sigh of infinite satisfaction that I joyfully wrote a check to pay those particular fines.