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IN THIS EDITION:
-Podcast & Note On Gillian Murphy’s Career
-Recommended show (Lady White Snake)
-Update on this Substack:)
The career of American Ballet Theatre’s Gillian Murphy has spanned a rare arc. A jewel in the annals of ballet history, she has escorted the changing times and evolving art form for the better part of three decades. And on July 18, the artist makes her final departure from the ABT stage in Odette/Odile — a role that, as Murphy notes in an interview about her career, continues to reveal something new each time.
Murphy burst onto the scene in a then all-too-infrequent recording of “Le Corsaire” (1999), when, still a soloist, she performed as one of the Odalisques, completing a full diagonal of triple pirouettes. Her gifts were again cemented in film eternity when “Dance in America” recorded “Swan Lake” (2005) for the PBS series “Great Performances,” and the performance of the young principal dancer was given to all of us to keep, as long as the VHS tape would hold, and in our collective imaginations ever after. Her rise through the ranks at ABT, and these recordings alone, would have been enough to frame a great career. But Murphy performed far longer than most classical dancers — and, as a result, she both bridged and led the way between the old world and the new.
Swan Lake Rehearsal: Gillian Murphy & Michael de la Nuez.
Photo by Britt Stigler
This edition of the Dance Lens newsletter is thanks to my absolute favorite ARTS ONLY streaming service MARQUEE TV. Where you can find a plethora of recent classical, neoclassical, contemporary dance productions PLUS documentaries, theater and opera. Subscribe HERE.
When Kevin McKenzie stepped into the role of artistic director at American Ballet Theatre in 1992, he was walking in Mikhail Baryshnikov’s wake — and what a wake it was. A wave of glamour and excitement had flooded the dance world with the defections of Soviet legends like Rudolf Nureyev, Natalia Makarova and Baryshnikov himself. Combined with the drama (onstage and off) of American ballerina Gelsey Kirkland, American ballet soil was fertile ground. What followed were some of the most thrilling generations of dancers — defined not by a few standout stars but by a bevy of brilliance: Alessandra Ferri, Julio Bocca, Susan Jaffe, Paloma Herrera, Ethan Stiefel, José Manuel Carreño, Ángel Corella, Julie Kent, Amanda McKerrow, Ashley Tuttle, Max and Irina Dvorovenko, Marcelo Gomes and, of course, Murphy.
It seemed American Ballet Theatre had fully come into its power — not relying on a few imported celebrities but with a voice of its own that was both homegrown and a landing spot for the world’s most compelling talent.
As that group — which seemed like it would last forever — gradually left the stage, ABT began to look decidedly eastward. While the company had exceptional in-house talent, the marketing emphasis began to rely heavily on guest stars from Russia (and occasionally England), and its identity and point of view as a company becoming less defined. A template emerged: rotating classics with an international guest star in the leading role. And yet, a few dancers who had ascended the ranks acted as scaffolding upholding the prestige of the company. Among them, Murphy stood as a luminous pillar.
ABT Company 2003 Photo Michael Thompson.
Left to right: Freddie Franklin, Julio Bocca, Amanda McKerrow, Maxim Beloserkovsky, Ethan Stiefel, Paloma Herrera, Ashley Tuttle, Julie Kent, Gillian Murphy, Angel Corella, Alessandra Ferri, Jose Manuel Carreño, Marcelo Gomes, Irina Dvorovenko, Kevin McKenzie
Meanwhile, ballet was undergoing a global athletic transformation in a post-Sylvie Guillem world. Guillem — the French phenomenon — was instrumental in radically reshaping what we expect from a classical dancer. Extreme extensions (the height of the leg), multiple turns and hang time in the air became the standard rather than the exception. We’d seen exciting technique before, but never at this level — and never so widespread.
We were drunk on our newfound standards, which had heretofore been accessible only to a select few. The rise of cross-training, Gyrotonics, pilates and a deeper, more holistic understanding of how to support technique opened the door for this potential to be reached collectively, rather than relying solely on the blessing of the fairies of inherent ability.
There were other dancers who helped show us what was physically possible: Baryshnikov, with his multiple turns and gravity-humiliating jumps; Ferri, with arches shaped like coat hooks and a delicacy so extreme it became its own kind of strength; and Murphy, with the turning and jumping prowess once seen mostly on male dancers — matched by her translucent beauty, a supreme Titian femininity.
If Botticelli’s Venus had stepped out of the clam, she would have been called Gillian Murphy.
Swan Lake Rehearsal: Gillian Murphy & Michael de la Nuez.
Photo by Britt Stigler
Then came the digital age. Suddenly, the ballet studio — once a protected, sacred space — was transformed. The drive to go viral seeped into even the most private corners of rehearsal and class. Barre work, makeup application, quick changes and formerly closed rehearsals became fair game. At the same time, ballet technique had reached such extreme levels that further development threatened to disrupt classical lines or obliterate musicality altogether (which, it must be said, occasionally happens). And yet, the internet also flung open doors. Thousands could now access an art form long-considered elitist or out of reach. Live performance is inherently exclusive — barred by money, geography and time — but digital platforms offered a way in.
Some dancers have managed to walk the tightrope — preserving depth and nuance while welcoming audiences into their world — Murphy first among them. Thousands of her fans see performance and behind-the-scenes clips, yet we never for a moment lose the feeling that we’re accompanying a serious artist — a dance titan. It’s her world, and we are graciously invited in.
As Murphy prepares for her final performance as Odette/Odile, we are left in a ballet world wholly different from the one she first entered in 1996. Her career stands as an archive of the art form itself. She upheld the traditions of classical ballet while guiding it into the 21st century, adapting without compromising. In this way, she became a living bridge — linking ballet’s past, present and future. She didn’t just survive the shifting tides of taste, technology and leadership; in the tradition of the great ballerinas of old, she helped steer the ship — a disciplined and elegant example of artistic depth, breadth and virtuosity.
Stream the interview “Gillian Murphy: Departure Diary” on the ALL ARTS site.
Gillian Murphy being interviewed by Cynthia Dragoni and filmed by Daniel Yadin (Walkie Talkie NYC) at ABT Studios.
Photo by Britt Stigler
Stay tuned, the next podcast is an interview with another great ballerina: Yuan Yuan Tan.
If you’re in New York I HIGHLY recommend seeing her new production of Lady White Snake at Lincoln Center on July 26th and 27th.
Below is a photo from the performance:
UPDATE: This newsletter will start to be a lot more consistent starting this month. It will include:
-A weekly podcast, some short like today’s & some longer interviews.
-Reviews
-A monthly deep dive into a particular dance work and/or artist
-Show recommendations
-COMING SOON: Live talks and interviews that will be for subscribers only. More on that later, it’s going to be loads of fun.
***If there’s something specific that you’d like to see you can always respond to this email and let me know, I read everything.
Warmest,
Cynthia
Another gorgeous scene from Yuan Yuan Tan & Shanghai Grand Theater’s Lady White Snake.
IN THIS EDITION:
-Podcast & Note On Gillian Murphy’s Career
-Recommended show (Lady White Snake)
-Update on this Substack:)
The career of American Ballet Theatre’s Gillian Murphy has spanned a rare arc. A jewel in the annals of ballet history, she has escorted the changing times and evolving art form for the better part of three decades. And on July 18, the artist makes her final departure from the ABT stage in Odette/Odile — a role that, as Murphy notes in an interview about her career, continues to reveal something new each time.
Murphy burst onto the scene in a then all-too-infrequent recording of “Le Corsaire” (1999), when, still a soloist, she performed as one of the Odalisques, completing a full diagonal of triple pirouettes. Her gifts were again cemented in film eternity when “Dance in America” recorded “Swan Lake” (2005) for the PBS series “Great Performances,” and the performance of the young principal dancer was given to all of us to keep, as long as the VHS tape would hold, and in our collective imaginations ever after. Her rise through the ranks at ABT, and these recordings alone, would have been enough to frame a great career. But Murphy performed far longer than most classical dancers — and, as a result, she both bridged and led the way between the old world and the new.
Swan Lake Rehearsal: Gillian Murphy & Michael de la Nuez.
Photo by Britt Stigler
This edition of the Dance Lens newsletter is thanks to my absolute favorite ARTS ONLY streaming service MARQUEE TV. Where you can find a plethora of recent classical, neoclassical, contemporary dance productions PLUS documentaries, theater and opera. Subscribe HERE.
When Kevin McKenzie stepped into the role of artistic director at American Ballet Theatre in 1992, he was walking in Mikhail Baryshnikov’s wake — and what a wake it was. A wave of glamour and excitement had flooded the dance world with the defections of Soviet legends like Rudolf Nureyev, Natalia Makarova and Baryshnikov himself. Combined with the drama (onstage and off) of American ballerina Gelsey Kirkland, American ballet soil was fertile ground. What followed were some of the most thrilling generations of dancers — defined not by a few standout stars but by a bevy of brilliance: Alessandra Ferri, Julio Bocca, Susan Jaffe, Paloma Herrera, Ethan Stiefel, José Manuel Carreño, Ángel Corella, Julie Kent, Amanda McKerrow, Ashley Tuttle, Max and Irina Dvorovenko, Marcelo Gomes and, of course, Murphy.
It seemed American Ballet Theatre had fully come into its power — not relying on a few imported celebrities but with a voice of its own that was both homegrown and a landing spot for the world’s most compelling talent.
As that group — which seemed like it would last forever — gradually left the stage, ABT began to look decidedly eastward. While the company had exceptional in-house talent, the marketing emphasis began to rely heavily on guest stars from Russia (and occasionally England), and its identity and point of view as a company becoming less defined. A template emerged: rotating classics with an international guest star in the leading role. And yet, a few dancers who had ascended the ranks acted as scaffolding upholding the prestige of the company. Among them, Murphy stood as a luminous pillar.
ABT Company 2003 Photo Michael Thompson.
Left to right: Freddie Franklin, Julio Bocca, Amanda McKerrow, Maxim Beloserkovsky, Ethan Stiefel, Paloma Herrera, Ashley Tuttle, Julie Kent, Gillian Murphy, Angel Corella, Alessandra Ferri, Jose Manuel Carreño, Marcelo Gomes, Irina Dvorovenko, Kevin McKenzie
Meanwhile, ballet was undergoing a global athletic transformation in a post-Sylvie Guillem world. Guillem — the French phenomenon — was instrumental in radically reshaping what we expect from a classical dancer. Extreme extensions (the height of the leg), multiple turns and hang time in the air became the standard rather than the exception. We’d seen exciting technique before, but never at this level — and never so widespread.
We were drunk on our newfound standards, which had heretofore been accessible only to a select few. The rise of cross-training, Gyrotonics, pilates and a deeper, more holistic understanding of how to support technique opened the door for this potential to be reached collectively, rather than relying solely on the blessing of the fairies of inherent ability.
There were other dancers who helped show us what was physically possible: Baryshnikov, with his multiple turns and gravity-humiliating jumps; Ferri, with arches shaped like coat hooks and a delicacy so extreme it became its own kind of strength; and Murphy, with the turning and jumping prowess once seen mostly on male dancers — matched by her translucent beauty, a supreme Titian femininity.
If Botticelli’s Venus had stepped out of the clam, she would have been called Gillian Murphy.
Swan Lake Rehearsal: Gillian Murphy & Michael de la Nuez.
Photo by Britt Stigler
Then came the digital age. Suddenly, the ballet studio — once a protected, sacred space — was transformed. The drive to go viral seeped into even the most private corners of rehearsal and class. Barre work, makeup application, quick changes and formerly closed rehearsals became fair game. At the same time, ballet technique had reached such extreme levels that further development threatened to disrupt classical lines or obliterate musicality altogether (which, it must be said, occasionally happens). And yet, the internet also flung open doors. Thousands could now access an art form long-considered elitist or out of reach. Live performance is inherently exclusive — barred by money, geography and time — but digital platforms offered a way in.
Some dancers have managed to walk the tightrope — preserving depth and nuance while welcoming audiences into their world — Murphy first among them. Thousands of her fans see performance and behind-the-scenes clips, yet we never for a moment lose the feeling that we’re accompanying a serious artist — a dance titan. It’s her world, and we are graciously invited in.
As Murphy prepares for her final performance as Odette/Odile, we are left in a ballet world wholly different from the one she first entered in 1996. Her career stands as an archive of the art form itself. She upheld the traditions of classical ballet while guiding it into the 21st century, adapting without compromising. In this way, she became a living bridge — linking ballet’s past, present and future. She didn’t just survive the shifting tides of taste, technology and leadership; in the tradition of the great ballerinas of old, she helped steer the ship — a disciplined and elegant example of artistic depth, breadth and virtuosity.
Stream the interview “Gillian Murphy: Departure Diary” on the ALL ARTS site.
Gillian Murphy being interviewed by Cynthia Dragoni and filmed by Daniel Yadin (Walkie Talkie NYC) at ABT Studios.
Photo by Britt Stigler
Stay tuned, the next podcast is an interview with another great ballerina: Yuan Yuan Tan.
If you’re in New York I HIGHLY recommend seeing her new production of Lady White Snake at Lincoln Center on July 26th and 27th.
Below is a photo from the performance:
UPDATE: This newsletter will start to be a lot more consistent starting this month. It will include:
-A weekly podcast, some short like today’s & some longer interviews.
-Reviews
-A monthly deep dive into a particular dance work and/or artist
-Show recommendations
-COMING SOON: Live talks and interviews that will be for subscribers only. More on that later, it’s going to be loads of fun.
***If there’s something specific that you’d like to see you can always respond to this email and let me know, I read everything.
Warmest,
Cynthia
Another gorgeous scene from Yuan Yuan Tan & Shanghai Grand Theater’s Lady White Snake.