ROYAL FLASH
On the eve of the Royal Danish Ballet performance at the Manoel Theatre, Emma Mattei goes behind the doors of one of the world's most acclaimed ballet schools.
I'm running late and I'm lost, Peter Bo Bendixen, artistic director of soloists and principals at the Royal Danish Ballet, is a busy man and I am keeping him waiting. I had requested to go behind the scenes, to see the dancers in the studio, with sweat on their brow, to stand in the secret world of dance and listen to the sound of feet shuffling and notes tinkling, in the hope of gaining some insight into the lives of professional ballet dancers.
I arrive at the stage entrance to the Royal Theatre on Tordenskjoldsgade and Mr Bendixen guides me swiftly backstage through corridors and up stairways into a light-filled foyer outside an enormous studio where the morning dance session is underway. Various languages fill the air, Danish, of course, English, French and perhaps a melody of Polish. I had entered a special world, where from morning to night, men and women are consumed with dedication and hard work, striving for perfection.
1771 saw the foundation of The Royal Theatre Ballet, which is still the mainstay of the Royal Danish Ballet. The Italian Vincenzo Galeotti came to Copenhagen in 1775 and created the first great period of ballet in Denmark, which lasted until his death in 1816.
Galeotti introduced le ballet d'action, in which action is expressed through dance and pantomime. The tradition of pantomime has been upheld in Denmark, and as artistic director for the pantomime, Mr Bendixen is currently busy preparing for the season at the Pantomime Theatre in the historic Tivoli Gardens of Copenhagen. "It's the pantomime tradition of commedia dell'arte, but it's also a ballet," he explains, "Queen Magrethe designs the sets and costumes, and the shows will run from mid April, with a live orchestra, performing twice a day."
"I have a tendency to say yes," continues Mr Bendixen, "so I'm also involved with a program on TV2" (Danish national television). At 41, Mr Bendixen still sparkles with youth and vigour, but though he finds it hard to say no to any projects that come his way, he feels it is time to give way a little, and is enjoying spending time with his children.
The life of a ballet dancer is all consuming, with dedication to nothing but the dance. Before rushing on to his next appointment, Mr Benedixen introduces me to the American dancer Caroline Cavallo. Originally from Atlanta, Georgia, Ms Cavallo has been with The Royal Danish Ballet since 1989. Her little room is cosy and calm, a small window looks out to the street below, but the quotidian world of white vans and ordinary folk, walking around town running errands, seems out of reach from in here. Ms Cavallo room is pink and white, a small bed is wedged in the corner, on the shelves, a hundred pairs of ballet shoes are packed in tight. I find out later from Ms Cavallo that she knows her shoes, and that there are particular pairs for the various types of footwork.
Ms Cavallo tells me about the essence of the Bournonville tradition of dance and the difficulties of maintaining an ordinary life outside of the ballet world. "When I first arrived here, and I was doing the dating thing, it would be difficult to explain that at the end of the day I was tired, that I just wanted to rest and be fresh for the next day." Now Ms Cavallo is married to a musician, which means he understands what it requires to be a professional in the performing arts.
Currently, about 30 per cent of the ballet corps are international, but Mr Bendixen has great hopes for the future of Danish ballet dancers. The future of tomorrow's dancers has been further secured by the establishment of a boarding school, so that children with dance promise who do not hail from Copenhagen can pursue ballet in the hope of one day becoming professional dancers.
Ms Cavallo speaks Danish but when she first arrived she struggled to join in with the jokes and camaraderie. Now, though, it seems that English is the lingua franca at the Royal Danish Ballet. I sit in on a rehearsal for the ballet production currently showing at the theatre entitled American Mixture. This is cutting edge modern ballet, but it is not modern dance. I struggle to grasp the concept until the dance begins and then it becomes clear that the essence of the body language is steeped in tradition but the packaging is thoroughly modern with Danish rock diva Kira and her band, The Kindred Spirits, also on stage providing the music.
While American Mixture may not appeal to purists, this is nevertheless a brave attempt to bring new audiences to the ballet. I, for one, am tempted to attend a performance. The choreographers are giving orders in mid-Atlantic English. They are the shooting stars of contemporary choreography, the American Niccolo Fonte and Matjash Mrozewski from Canada.
I have only seen part of the show when Ms Cavallo lithe silhouette appears in the darkness, beckoning me over. She has half an hour of free time before her fitting. Tonight she is stepping into someone else's ballet shoes, at the last minute.
"Even on my day off," she explains, "I am always watching the phone. There is a certain time everyday when we are obliged to be available should we be needed to step in." When I ask Ms Cavallo if she has ever missed a performance she replies hardly ever. This is a profession that requires sacrifice and discipline, where the show must go on and every dancer is needed.
Would you do it all again? Is it worth all the struggle and hard work? I ask, Ms Cavallo smiles, yes and yes again, she replies. As I wander back into the world of vacuous pursuit and fickle change I can't help but envy the inhabitants of the world I have left behind, the chosen few who endure the hardships and reap the rewards in the secret realm of professional ballet.
• The Danish Royal Ballet will be performing works from reknowned choreographers Balanchine, Rushton and Bournville at the Manoel Theatre tomorrow.
I arrive at the stage entrance to the Royal Theatre on Tordenskjoldsgade and Mr Bendixen guides me swiftly backstage through corridors and up stairways into a light-filled foyer outside an enormous studio where the morning dance session is underway. Various languages fill the air, Danish, of course, English, French and perhaps a melody of Polish. I had entered a special world, where from morning to night, men and women are consumed with dedication and hard work, striving for perfection.
1771 saw the foundation of The Royal Theatre Ballet, which is still the mainstay of the Royal Danish Ballet. The Italian Vincenzo Galeotti came to Copenhagen in 1775 and created the first great period of ballet in Denmark, which lasted until his death in 1816.
Galeotti introduced le ballet d'action, in which action is expressed through dance and pantomime. The tradition of pantomime has been upheld in Denmark, and as artistic director for the pantomime, Mr Bendixen is currently busy preparing for the season at the Pantomime Theatre in the historic Tivoli Gardens of Copenhagen. "It's the pantomime tradition of commedia dell'arte, but it's also a ballet," he explains, "Queen Magrethe designs the sets and costumes, and the shows will run from mid April, with a live orchestra, performing twice a day."
"I have a tendency to say yes," continues Mr Bendixen, "so I'm also involved with a program on TV2" (Danish national television). At 41, Mr Bendixen still sparkles with youth and vigour, but though he finds it hard to say no to any projects that come his way, he feels it is time to give way a little, and is enjoying spending time with his children.
The life of a ballet dancer is all consuming, with dedication to nothing but the dance. Before rushing on to his next appointment, Mr Benedixen introduces me to the American dancer Caroline Cavallo. Originally from Atlanta, Georgia, Ms Cavallo has been with The Royal Danish Ballet since 1989. Her little room is cosy and calm, a small window looks out to the street below, but the quotidian world of white vans and ordinary folk, walking around town running errands, seems out of reach from in here. Ms Cavallo room is pink and white, a small bed is wedged in the corner, on the shelves, a hundred pairs of ballet shoes are packed in tight. I find out later from Ms Cavallo that she knows her shoes, and that there are particular pairs for the various types of footwork.
Ms Cavallo tells me about the essence of the Bournonville tradition of dance and the difficulties of maintaining an ordinary life outside of the ballet world. "When I first arrived here, and I was doing the dating thing, it would be difficult to explain that at the end of the day I was tired, that I just wanted to rest and be fresh for the next day." Now Ms Cavallo is married to a musician, which means he understands what it requires to be a professional in the performing arts.
Currently, about 30 per cent of the ballet corps are international, but Mr Bendixen has great hopes for the future of Danish ballet dancers. The future of tomorrow's dancers has been further secured by the establishment of a boarding school, so that children with dance promise who do not hail from Copenhagen can pursue ballet in the hope of one day becoming professional dancers.
Ms Cavallo speaks Danish but when she first arrived she struggled to join in with the jokes and camaraderie. Now, though, it seems that English is the lingua franca at the Royal Danish Ballet. I sit in on a rehearsal for the ballet production currently showing at the theatre entitled American Mixture. This is cutting edge modern ballet, but it is not modern dance. I struggle to grasp the concept until the dance begins and then it becomes clear that the essence of the body language is steeped in tradition but the packaging is thoroughly modern with Danish rock diva Kira and her band, The Kindred Spirits, also on stage providing the music.
While American Mixture may not appeal to purists, this is nevertheless a brave attempt to bring new audiences to the ballet. I, for one, am tempted to attend a performance. The choreographers are giving orders in mid-Atlantic English. They are the shooting stars of contemporary choreography, the American Niccolo Fonte and Matjash Mrozewski from Canada.
I have only seen part of the show when Ms Cavallo lithe silhouette appears in the darkness, beckoning me over. She has half an hour of free time before her fitting. Tonight she is stepping into someone else's ballet shoes, at the last minute.
"Even on my day off," she explains, "I am always watching the phone. There is a certain time everyday when we are obliged to be available should we be needed to step in." When I ask Ms Cavallo if she has ever missed a performance she replies hardly ever. This is a profession that requires sacrifice and discipline, where the show must go on and every dancer is needed.
Would you do it all again? Is it worth all the struggle and hard work? I ask, Ms Cavallo smiles, yes and yes again, she replies. As I wander back into the world of vacuous pursuit and fickle change I can't help but envy the inhabitants of the world I have left behind, the chosen few who endure the hardships and reap the rewards in the secret realm of professional ballet.
• The Danish Royal Ballet will be performing works from reknowned choreographers Balanchine, Rushton and Bournville at the Manoel Theatre tomorrow.