Ed note: This is part one of a two-part series. Watch this space for part two, which will post next week. sdl
This year marks the golden anniversary of the New York City Ballet’s historic Stravinsky Festival. The celebration was conceived and directed by NYCB choreographer George Balanchine to pay tribute to Igor Stravinsky a year after the composer’s death, at 89. The festival began on Sunday, June 18, 1972, the day after what would have been the composer’s 90th birthday, and concluded a week later.
Balanchine, born in 1904, and his compatriot Stravinsky, in 1882, were what you might call “evolutionaries.” The twentieth century was their runway. They took off at the dawn of the era, taking with them the established traditions of their respective art forms to new destinations. From their native Russia, they landed in New York and Los Angeles, and over decades, transformed and expanded the formal and expressive vocabularies of their genres to create what we call Modernism. (Interestingly, James Joyce, born the same year as Stravinsky, did the same for literature.)
While Stravinsky composed music for ballets before Balanchine emerged as a choreographer, they eventually collaborated, to create one of the most productive and dynamic artistic partnerships of the twentieth century. Their synergy gave the world sound and sights not seen nor heard before.
The ’72 Stravinsky Festival began with a brass fanfare the composer wrote for the company upon its move to Lincoln Center, in 1964. Balanchine followed up with a speech from the stage. The week-long tribute concluded with a community toast to Stravinsky: For the occasion, Balanchine ordered 40 cases of vodka and distributed shots to the audience. The composer’s widow Vera was there as the guest of honor.
It’s not a stretch to say that between those two Sundays, the most extraordinary week in American ballet history transpired. All the music was composed by Stravinsky. And the sheer numbers of the festival were astounding:
- 30 ballets, 20 of which were world premieres—with none repeating on any night
- 7 choreographers
- 4 pieces performed without dancers, some with a chorus and vocal soloists
Several of those premieres are now staples of the company’s repertory.
Scheduled for the festival’s penultimate night were the Balanchine-Stravinsky Greek ballets: “Apollo,” “Agon,” and Orpheus.” “Apollo” was the very first ballet of their collaboration, premiering in 1928 with the Ballet Russes, and is the oldest ballet in the NYCB repertory. “Agon,” for me, was the apogee of their partnership. Premiering in 1957, it had the power and boldness to claim the stature of The Iconic Ballet of the 20th century. “Agon” electrified me when I saw it at the age of 15, where afterwards, colors were brighter, sounds, clearer, hormones wilder. The former ballet critic of The New Yorker, Arlene Croce, revealed she couldn’t sleep for a week after seeing the work for the first time. Clearly, I was on to something.
Just before my high school sophomore year, our family of six moved from the South Side of Chicago to a three-story house a block from Lake Michigan in the North Shore suburbs, after a kid held a gun to my mother’s head. It was a crushing dislocation that exacerbated long-simmering family tensions. And I was lost and lonely in these manorial enclaves, carrying the shame of an immigrant who didn’t know the local culture, mores, or territory. Yet our house was only a few miles—a fifteen-minute bike ride—from Ravinia, the oldest outdoor summer performing arts festival in the country. Ravinia primarily featured music but plays and ballets filled out the roster. I had younger twin sisters, and though we all took ballet lessons, the youngest twin was the more talented and serious dancer. To supplement our lessons, we went to as many performances as we could. Which meant waiting until companies from New York toured Chicago. Our city was pretty much a ballet desert.
So when the New York City Ballet was scheduled for a full week residency at Ravinia in the late summer after our move, I looked forward to the visit as if the cavalry were coming to redeem my misery. It was 1971, the year before the Stravinsky Festival, the era of company greats Patricia McBride, Edward Villella, Kay Mazzo, and Peter Martins.
From the very first moment, the company fulfilled my expectations if not my desperate hope for transcendence. “Agon” began the residency that Sunday night. It would transform my life.
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Eden Elieff, a native Chicagoan, lives in Dallas with her husband and has taught both fiction and nonfiction with Writing Workshops Dallas as well as with several high schools in both cities. Twice a Pushcart nominee, Eden has published work in both genres in various literary magazines, such as The Mississippi Review, Minerva Rising, The Sycamore Review, Chautauqua Literary Journal, Crab Orchard Review, as well as the Dallas Morning News. She received her MFA from the Writing Seminars at Bennington College.
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