Elusive muse: Suzanne Farrell
All dancers are unique. But some are more unique than others.
Suzanne Farrell may have been the most unique of all – that is, I’ve never seen another dancer who reminds me of her in the least. The closest would be Galina Ulanova, who shares the interior-ality (is that a word?) of Farell’s presentation as a dancer; that is, the sense that she is lost in her own world and not performing or posing. I’ve seen interviews where Farrell has been asked whether, when she was growing up, she wanted to be a ballerina, and she has answered that she only wanted to dance. She is a highly unusual person.
There is a documentary about Farrell made in 1996, about seven years after she retired from her performing career, a career that began when she was a teenager and the New York City Ballet was under Balanchine’s direction. He was about forty years older than she was and became enthralled with her, not just as a dancer but in the romantic sense. They had a complex relationship that was never sexually consummated and which Farrell discusses in the documentary. I think that even in the film’s first few minutes you can see why she enchanted Balanchine so.
Unfortunately it’s not possible to embed the video, but you can watch it here. You don’t have to see the whole thing to get the flavor, although I certainly watched it in its entirety. Watch as much as you like.
Farrell also has said that you reveal your personality when you dance. That is very very true. It’s revealed in a million ways both subtle and unsubtle. The audience may not be able to describe or list them, but the audience perceives them. A dancer is relaxed or tense, self-centered or not, risk-taker or cautious – but it’s all there for the world to see. Farrell herself always seemed relaxed, in her own dreamworld but it was not at all about her, and a physical risk-taker. Although she was never flashy or show-offy, she nevertheless knocked people’s socks off.
Another thing Farrell said in another interview was that a dancer must fascinate the audience even before the dancer starts to dance. Just standing still onstage, he or she must fascinate. The strange and uncanny thing is that Farrell did exactly that, although I don’t know how she did it. Even when she was dancing as part of a group, which she didn’t usually do, one could always spot her not just through her looks or body proportions but through her unique and riveting – that is, fascinating – quality of movement.
Oh, I see what you mean, she’s ravishing.
“…lost in her own world and not performing or posing…” Perfectly described.
Neo: thanks for the link to the Farrell documentary. I haven’t finished watching it but I find it fascinating, and I’m not a big ballet fan. It gives you a first-person glimpse into how great art–and great artists–are made. You never know where and in whom the spark will alight.
Your link led me to another documentary about a dancer: Tanaquil Le Clercq, Balanchine’s wife and first muse whose career was ended by polio. By the way, Jacques D’Amboise comes across a very good guy in both the Farrell and Le Clercq documentaries.
Farrell’s mother observed that Cincinnati produced three dancers/entertainers: Doris Day, Vera-Ellen, and Suzanne Farrell. All three were German-American: Day was born Kappelhoff, Vera-Ellen was born Lohe, and Farrell was born Ficker.
I watched some of that video, thanks for linking to it. I’m not a fan of ballet, but I recognize the artistry involved. There’s something I’ve noted over the years that I term “the delicacy of precision movement;” Farrel has it, I’ve seen it in several of the Fred and Ginger movie scenes, occasionally on a baseball diamond, once in a New York deli. Rare, but wonderous when it happens.
Is there a particular physique that especially lends itself to dance, and in particular, ballet, without which no amount of study and effort can overcome that barrier between merely outstanding and “in a completely different category”? Many years ago, in college, the weight room was dominated by us football team members, but for a while there was a student of slight build who frequently consulted with the coaches; turned out he was a dance student attempting to build muscle for difficult moves without adding the bulk that would be unbecoming or impose limitations on gracefulness of moves.
Leverage and careful manipulation of direction of applied force can overcome inadequacies of power, but I’d expect it could easily compromise that “delicacy” I mentioned above.
Farrell has the quality that so enchants me in Fred Astaire: every atom in her body is engaged in the perfect movement of the whole. Not a single part is just along for the ride or waiting to be engaged. Even when she’s seated and speaking to the camera, that quality is present in her face and her carriage.
P.S. Balanchine’s poem to Suzanne Farrell recalls a famous love poem by Alexander Pushkin entitled “To ***”:
https://ruverses.com/alexander-pushkin/to/3222/
Pushkin wrote the poem in 1825 to his then-mistress Anna Petrovna Kern.
I wonder what the rest of the company thought when being out-fascinated.
Richard Aubrey:
The video goes into that a bit. It was as you might expect.
As to fascinating;
Absolutely perfect. Say, limb proportions. It’s a complete aesthetic Thing all by itself, watched with awe and complete attention.
But maybe fascination comes from, say, 2% off perfection. The very short shortfall keeps the brain trying to connect…?
Or any other aspect of esthetic, objective, in-the-manual perfection. Just a touch off…. In moves, stances.