ALICIA ALONSO

ALICIA ALONSO

Alicia Alonso's Biography
Prima Ballerina Assoluta and Director of the National Ballet of Cuba, she is one of the most outstanding personalities in the history of the dance and constitutes one of the most outstanding figures of the classic ballet in the Iberian-American environment. She was born in Havana, where she began her studies in 1931, in the School of Ballet of the Musical Pro-art Society. Later she moved to the United States and continued her studies with Enrico Zanfretta, Alexandra Fedorova and several eminent professors of the School of American Ballet. Her professional activity began in 1938, in Broadway, with her debut in the musical comedies Great Lady and Stars in your eyes. A year later she entered the American Ballet Caravan, antecedent of the current New York City Ballet. She became a member of the Ballet Theatre of New York, in 1940, the year of its foundation. Starting from this moment on a brilliant stage of her career began, as supreme interpreter of the big

works of the romantic and classic repertoire. In this stage she worked next to Mikhail Fokine, George Balanchine, Leonide Massine, Bronislava Nijinska, Antony Tudor, Jerome Robbins and Agnes de Mille, among other significant personalities of the choreography of the 20th century. She was the main performer in the world premiere of important works such as Undertow, Fall River Legend and Theme and Variations. As an important figure of the American Ballet Theatre, she performed in numerous countries of Europe and America with prima ballerina's rank. In 1948 she founded in Havana the Ballet Alicia Alonso, today's National Ballet of Cuba. Starting from that moment on, her activities were shared among the American Ballet Theatre, the Russian Ballets at Montecarlo and her own company that was maintained with very scarce or any official back up until 1959, the year in which the Revolutionary Government of Cuba offered to support her. Her choreographic versions of the great classics are celebrated.

internationally, and they are danced in important companies like the Ballet of the Opera of Paris(Giselle, Grand Pas de Quatre, Sleeping Beauty); the Opera of Vienna and The San Carlo from Naples (Giselle); the Opera of Prague (The fille mal gardée); and the Theater alla Scala of Milan (Sleeping Beauty). Eminent figure of the cultural life, Alicia Alonso has been invested with the Doctor Honoris Causa degree of the University of Havana, the Institute of Arts of Cuba , the Polytechnic University of Valencia, Spain, and the University of Guadalajara, Mexico. In 1993 she was granted the Commends of the Order Isabel the Catholic awarded by Juan Carlos I, King of Spain. That same year was created a Class of Dance with her name at the University Complutense of Madrid. Later, it was created the Foundation of the Dance that has her name, and the Superior Institute of the Dance Alicia Alonso belonging to the University King Juan Carlos. ,.In 1996 the Scientific, Artistic and Literary Athenaeum of Madrid, gave her a public homage.

That same year she became a Member of Honor of the Association of Directors of Scene of Spain (ADE). In 1998 she was appointed with the Gold Medal of the Circle of Fine Arts of Madrid; the French Republic gave her the Order of the Arts and the Letters, in Commander's Grade, and the Council of the Cuban State honored her with the title of National Heroine of the Work of the Republic of Cuba. In the year 2000 she received the Prize Benois of the Dance, for devoting her entire life to artistic contributions, and it was conferred to her the Order José Martí, maximum medal that grants the Council of State of the Republic of Cuba. In January of the 2002 the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of her country appointed her Ambassador of the Republic of Cuba; and recently she was invested in Paris as Ambassador of Good Will of UNESCO. As Director and main figure of the National Ballet of Cuba, Alicia Alonso has been the inspiration and the guide in the development of a new generation of Cuban dancers, that with its own style that has conquered an outstanding place in the international ballet.

Justo Nieto

Alicia Alonso, la más extraordinaria Giselle
Por Marta Gómez Ferrals

Hacia 1840 la corriente artística del romanticismo vivía su apoteosis en Europa. Teofile Gautier, escritor, poeta, crítico literario y arqueólogo francés, había quedado fascinado con el bello libro de mitos alemanes publicado por el inmortal Enrique Heine.

Al poco tiempo, Gautier se puso al habla con el famoso libretista Vernoy de Saint-George y le contó su sueño de hacer un ballet con el argumento del libro, donde aparecían hadas etéreas, espíritus y genios de las aguas y willis blancas como la nieve que bailaban con crueldad.

Días después, ya estaba escrito el guión de Giselle o Las willis. A la semana, el compositor Adolfo Adam finalizaba la partitura, que sirvió de fondo a la coreografía creada por Julio Perrot para su esposa, Carlota Grissi.

Así nació el ballet Giselle, a partir de la obra de Enrique Heine, al decir de Teofile Gautier "el más grande poeta lírico de Alemania". Acerca del origen del mito de las willis, escribió el propio Heine en el libro Tradiciones populares: "...es la tradición de la bailadora nocturna que se conoce en los países eslavos con el nombre de willis. Las willis son desposadas que han muerto el día antes de sus bodas. Las pobres criaturas no pueden permanecer tranquilas en sus tumbas".

La primera puesta en escena del nuevo ballet tuvo lugar en el teatro de la Opera, en junio de 1841. Fue, desde el comienzo, un ballet tocado por la gracia de los dioses. Una obra que debe estar en el repertorio de toda bailarina clásica que aspire a la perfección técnica y a la consagración.

De Grissi a la extraordinaria Alicia
Carlota Grissi, la primera intérprete del ballet Giselle, fue una bailarina excepcional. Sobre su actuación en la premiére, escribió la prensa de la época: "Imaginemos que desde el principio hasta el fin Giselle está flotando en el aire o sobre sus puntas. En el primer acto ella corre, vuela, salta sobre el escenario como una amorosa gacela, tanto que la paz de la tumba no parece demasiado profunda para tanta carrera ni tal cantidad de esfuerzo".

Y continuaba: "en el segundo acto no sólo tiene que bailar igual que en el primero, sino que debe ser mil veces más etérea e intangible, porque Giselle se ha vuelto una sombra. Ella no tiene espacio que pisar, ni punto de apoyo. Se abre paso a través del aire como una golondrina...Giselle es una sílfide que no tiene un solo instante de reposo".

Como la mayoría de los ballets románticos, el quehacer de Giselle descansa en la prima ballerina, quien debe ser dueña de virtuosismo técnico en el baile y al propio tiempo de una alta disposición para la mímica.

Aunque Giselle ha estado en el repertorio de bailarinas excepcionales como la Grissi, Fanny Elssler, Anna Pavlowa, la Markova y otras, se considera a la prima ballerina assoluta cubana Alicia Alonso como la más extraordinaria Giselle de todos los tiempos.

Alicia, en Giselle, ha dado muestras fehacientes de su genio irrepetible y su inmenso virtuosismo. La obra ha estado durante años en el repertorio del Ballet Nacional de Cuba, una compañía pródiga en la puesta en escena de los ballets clásicos más famosos y que en 1998 ha cumplido su primer medio siglo de existencia

videos
Giselle (fragmento)

LAS CUATRO JOYAS

Josefina mendez mirta pla
aurora bosh loipa araujo

LAS Nuevas joyas

carlos acosta anette delgado

jose manuel carreno Viengsay Valdés

A ALICIA
Alejo Carpentier

Alondra, albatros, alción
Libre, en cielo nuevo
Ícaro mujer
Cielo alcanzado por ti
Ingrávida, sin caída de Ícaro caído
Alicia, en cielo despejado.
Al futuro de tu patria vuelas
Ley de elevación y andar por nubes
Obra tuya, sin embargo, es este mundo
Nuevo, joven, tuyo,
Sobre una Revolución que también fue tuya
Olvidada de tinieblas.

París, 1972

SALUDO Y HOMENAJE A ALICIA ALONSO
Eliseo Diego

Siempre te vi volar toda ya un hada,
cisne, paloma y mil y más criaturas,
tramando tus divinas aventuras
sobre el borde insaciable de la nada.

Tú misma sólo música encarnada,
luz que dibuja fina en las oscuras
fibras del mundo eternas travesuras
tan naturales como tú hechizada.

En fin, que para mí tú eres el Arte
vivo en su ardor, y tan, y tan lejana
como la estrella que el abismo abriga.

Pero hoy que me decido a saludarte
te siento cerca, lumbrecilla humana,
fiesta de Cuba, misteriosa amiga.

(Enero de 1974)

ALICIA ALONSO
Roberto Friol

Del centro de la noche
a la razón del alba,
el ímpetu, los números
de la música encarnas;
los dos cisnes que voznan
el amor y el ansia,
el siempre y el aún
de la vida que mana;
los giros de la flor
en tu luz y tu gracia,
niebla del sí y del no,
del tiempo que no pasa;
mujeres tantas que
eternizan tus ráfagas,
mujeres tantas eres
y una sola: la danza.

1985

ALICIA ALONSO

Sheila Orysiek
Member, Dance Critics Association
Contributor, Ballet.co
In the late 1970’s the San Diego Ballet decided to invite Prima Ballerina Alicia Alonso to perform with the company in San Diego. The temerity of this proposal was breathtaking. It is comparable to asking Meryl Streep to play with a local high school drama group or to ask Thomas Jefferson to give a writing class tips on how to write a declaration of independence. Even more startling - Alicia Alonso accepted the invitation. She not only agreed to come, but to dance her greatest role, Giselle.
Let me introduce her to you should you not be familiar with the world of the classic ballet. She gained her fame in New York with American Ballet Theater in the 1940’s and her star ascended and continued to ascend through the rest of this century. In the 1960’s as our relations with her native country, Cuba, turned cold she had to make a choice between her homeland and the United States because of the travel restrictions placed against Cuba. She loyally chose Cuba. So for many years, though she traveled globally and danced on the world’s most renowned stages, the United States was bereft of her magic. Americans often went to Canada to see her - but she could not come to see us. Then in the 1970’s travel restrictions were eased and she was allowed to enter our country. 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.
There are a number of classical ballets whose roles represent the epitome of a ballerina’s accomplishment. However, the ballet Giselle not only presents vast technical difficulties, it is also considered the Hamlet of the 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 century’s foremost exponents of Giselle. It is her favorite ballet.
Because of the travel restrictions, most American 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 with her own instructor accompanied by her special partner, Jorge Esquivel. The ballerina had found him - a hungry orphan on the streets of Havana and 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 class could begin.
The other dancers filed out. The press and cameras were shut out and the door was closed. I had gone to the corner of the studio to retrieve my things, 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, a nothing. 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 in that shaft of light she stepped and stood. The dust motes that swirled 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 pointed toe. The firm curve of the arch of her foot, the fluidity of that simple movement 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 and 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 the exact same things all of us did everyday. But she filled the room with her presence as she has filled the dimensions of every theater in which she has danced. She possessed the space around her as she has taken possession of every stage upon which she had stepped. This woman before me had danced with all the great companies of the world, every great male dancer has been her partner, every great capital has received her; London, Beijing, Leningrad, Moscow, Paris, New York, Madrid, Sydney, Tokyo. For decades her name has had first claim on a theater marquee. Like fine wine a truly great ballerina becomes finer with age. Later I watched her in rehearsal with the ballet company. She undertook every role of the ballet becoming in succession the young Giselle, or the old mother, or the visiting princess. She was showing the rest of the dancers exactly what she wanted.
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.
The studios of the company at that time were located downtown and I had parked on a city street. When I returned to my car I was brought sharply back to he realities of life. I had multiple parking tickets. But it was with a sigh of infinite satisfaction that I joyfully wrote a check to pay those particular fines.

Alicia's choice

BY OCTAVIO ROCA
oroca@herald.com

''I don't think it is worth commenting on them,'' says Alicia Alonso about the five young dancers who bailed out of her Ballet Nacional de Cuba tour last fall and defected to the United States.

Then she proceeds to comment anyway on the actions of Cervilio Amador and Gema Díaz, of Adiarys Almeida, Violeta Serrat and Luis Valdés, the latest protagonists of a Cuban ballet diaspora that has been going on for nearly half a century, including 20 in 2003.

''Of course it affects us,'' says Alonso, founder and head of the Ballet Nacional de Cuba. ``Not as a company, because we have 110 beautiful dancers, and we have more coming up each year through our school. But as human beings, I wish they had waited to develop a little more, to be better formed. Those young people who left may not believe this, but I worry about them.''

A series of phone conversations with Alonso and her husband, Pedro Simón, finds the pair in a reflective mood following a critically successful, though politically controversial tour. Simón is disarmingly candid about the defections.

''When a dancer leaves our company, the artistic effect is probably the same as when a dancer leaves any company,'' says Simón, who reveals that the New York City Ballet is making overtures to the Ballet Nacional de Cuba's young Joel Carreño. ``Those are artistic realities. But we have special political and social realities here, and that means that there are social and political repercussions when dancers leave.''

Still, Alonso is not fazed. She maintains that ''this is what we always have wanted to do: To share our art, to share our Cuban ballet.'' She has been sharing her art for decades.

She is unique in the world of culture: one of the greatest of all time and a political figure who polarizes argument in every corner of the Cuban Diaspora. Castro kept his part of the Faustian pact with Alonso: Under his auspices, Alonso created one of the finest ballet companies anywhere, in a tiny island nation.

How will history judge this formidable woman?

Alonso's proudest achievement is ''dedicating myself completely to dance,'' and she sees her Giselle, a role Alonso virtually owned, as ''not a personal success, but rather a triumph for Latin American culture.'' She has a point: The Paris Opera, Vienna State Opera, Teatro Colón, all have turned to Cuba for the last word in staging Giselle. That a French masterpiece based on a German poem, once best known through Russian interpretations, would be defined by a Cuban ballerina is one of history's surprises. There are details in Miami City Ballet's current production of Giselle that bear the stamp of this Havana native.

Alicia Alonso was a key player in what would become the American Ballet Theatre and New York City Ballet, starred in Broadway musicals with Ethel Merman, learned Les Sylphides from Mikhail Fokine himself and was the inspiration for masterpieces by George Balanchine and Antony Tudor.

She has been virtually blind throughout most of her career. ''I used to love painting, you know,'' she says wistfully. ''I did a few cositas (little things) that were not bad, a few watercolors. I can't do that anymore.'' But blindness, revolutions or even the passage of time cannot contain this woman. At 84, she remains an indomitable giant.

She is feisty, especially so when busting the myth that the success of Cuban ballet was the result of the Soviet Union's influence. Thanks to Alonso, in fact, ballet may well have been the one aspect of Cuban life not influenced by the Soviets.

''The Cuban style comes from deep within the Cuban spirit, from our joys and from our sadness,'' Alonso says. ``Some people are turned inward. The Cubans are always out, sensual. The Cuban ballet style comes from me, from my way of projecting my whole being.

''What looks natural on the Soviets,'' she says, ''would have looked mimetic, like a mannerism on us. We had a hard time explaining that to our Soviet friends.'' Alonso refused Russian ballet teachers ''except for character dances: They do czardas, mazurkas very well.'' She also discouraged her own dancers from taking advantage of Soviet scholarships.

''When Lázaro Carreño did go study in Moscow,'' Simón recalls, ``we had to spend months after he returned just getting him to dance like a Cuban again. It was a constant fight with Alicia.''

Other fights we may never know about. And there is only so much that an artist working inside Cuba today can or cannot discuss. But the proof of Alonso's success and that of her school is on stage whenever her Cuban dancers dance.

Her support of the Castro regime lends it cultural cachet. This, in turn, marks her among Cuban exiles as someone whose role is to prop up the regime. But, how political is she?

Ex-husband Fernando Alonso, perhaps unkindly, once said: ''Alicia has only an eighth-grade education -- she is not a sophisticated political thinker.'' More recently he has worried publicly about ''our best dancers leaving, and Alicia not seeing what is going on.'' Yet it is worth noting that he is no longer running the company he co founded with the woman who divorced him. And that Alicia Alonso's shrewd co-production ventures with European theaters such as Venice's La Fenice and Bologna's Teatro Communale have given the Cuban ballet access to economic resources otherwise nonexistent in Cuba since the fall of the Soviets.

She may be running her company the only way she knows how, making sure it lives. Thanks to her, the Ballet Nacional de Cuba will be there after Castro, much as the Bolshoi and the Kirov have maintained their place in Russian culture after 1989.

Antony Tudor, a dance genius who knew Alonso well, said after her 1976 return to the United States that ``they bring her out and ask her all these questions about politics, and she plays along. But she only knows dance. She is only, completely, a dancer.''

''Art has no homeland, but I do,'' Alonso says. ``I am Cuban. And I am a dancer. For a Cuban, dancing is the most natural thing in the world.''

It is easy to judge kindly and even with gratitude the profoundly instinctive wisdom of this blind seer, this modern-day Tiresias. It is also easy to be moved by the success of her most famous creation. Dancing through the darkness, making every gesture matter and keeping hope alive through the cruelest ordeals: Those are the themes of Giselle. It is ''the most natural thing in the world'' for the Cuban people to love this ballet, for Cuban dancers to mean every step they take. Alicia Alonso taught them that.