Alexandra, on Jul 19 2009, 10:07 AM, said:
there was none of the hardsell, LOOK AT MY TECHNIQUE that some dancers have.
Oh yes. So, for relatively untutored eyes like mine, it was easy to overlook and take for granted what she did. To see McBride in the program was to know you'd have a beautifully danced performance. No worries. Sit back, feast your eyes, enjoy. I'm speaking here speacially of the roles with which she is not usually identified, but which most of the principals had to take turns dancing in the early days.
I hate to admit this, but McBride's consistency, her ability to dance almost everything at a high level, had -- perversely -- the effect of making me not look as closely as I might. That is why I regret so much the small size of her available video legacy.
Here are some of Croce's comments, taken from the 1971 essay "Balanchine's Girls" (originally published in
Harper's Magazine, reprinted in the collection,
After-Images, which Patrick has mentioned):
I'll start the way Croce does, juxtaposing McBride to Farrell:
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Patricia McBride, who gained principal-dancer status a few years before Farrell, didn't become a star until just a few years ago. She didn't have Farrell's grandeur or silky, rippling flow of movement; she had a little, sticklike body which she has patiently taught to move deeply and expansively, 'in the round.' If Farrell was shy, McBride was shyer. Even today [1971], she is the shyest, most tenderly true, bravest, and least corruptible of classical dancers.
And here's Croce on
Dances at a Gathering, the first ballet where I woke up and suddenly took notice of someone who was clearly a real artist.
In the absence of readily available video, hwe need wonderful word-pictures like Croce's.Quote
In D at a G, she's the one who seems to be carrying the whole story of the ballet around in her head, but she doesn't given any indication of what's coming; she accepts it along with the rest. She has, I think, to quite piercing movements, one performed solo and one with a partner. The first is like a stroke of anti-typecasting when Robbins has her bend low in an attitude parallel to the ground and 'swim' over it with powerful arms. That downward sink, the whole intent plunge downward, is so unlike McBride that you remember it. It foreshadows the moment at the end of the ballet when Villella touches the ground.
Later on, she is facing Anthony Blum in a supported pose far to the side of the stage. The "storm" in the Chopin scherzo .... suddenly returns, breaks into their idyll but doesn't break it up. The hold the pose, and she holds the dramatic focus alone, for a ponderably long movement, while the music pounds them both. McBride always had presence; now she has authority too, the kind an audience silently appeals to. It's the mark of a true ballerina.
Croce takes you through quite a variety of different roles --
In the Night, Girl in White in
La Valse,
Rubies, "Man I love" in
Who Cares?, Columbine in
Harlequinade, Hermia in
Midsummer Night's Dream. She concludes that McBride, by not acting, became a spontaneous and intuitive dramatic actress, creating characters even in unplotted work
Quote
She doesn't decide on her effects in advance; they just happen. This quality in his dancers Balanchine seems to adore above all others, and he encourages it by leaving his ballets open to their imaginations. There are no blueprints for 'correct' interpretation.
A thought on Swanhilda. I don't know if McBride was involved Miami City Ballet's production of
Coppelia, but each of the Swanhildas presented themselves with a definite "McBride" style and personality. They did so beautifully. It was quite uncanny ... and absolutely "right."