In Balanchine's Company: A Dancer's Memoir

With the grace of a ballerina transposed to the page, Barbara Milberg Fisher's memoir, In Balanchine's Company, captures the ephemeral art and rigorous discipline of dance in the New York City Ballet during its early and formative years. From her childhood on a tree-lined street in Brooklyn leaping over mud puddles, when her Russian emigre parents told her to practice the piano to keep her out of mischief, and gave her ballet lessons as an antidote to her hoydenish exploits, to the afternoon when George Balanchine discovered her playing Schubert's C Minor sonata in an empty studio, she describes the education of an artist en route from Flatbush to the world's most glittering stages. In recounting her own journey, Ms. Fisher sheds light on the creative process of George Balanchine and the many extraordinary dancers, musicians, costume and set designers who worked with his fledgling company. "Sometimes," she wrote, "it seemed as if the company was flowing out of his veins." But while Mr. Balanchine was the presiding genius, it was the passion and dedication of his dancers, their unquestioning sense of mission, long hours, and sweat that brought his dreams to fruition. Ms. Fisher takes us into the studios with the tinkling pianos where for hours each day the young dancers did barre exercises and floor work under the watchful eyes of their beloved ballet masters, and, later, practiced and critiqued each other over and over until their lungs were bursting and the dancing looked effortless. She describes the patient way Mr. Balanchine worked with individual dancers, keenly aware of the natural ways they moved, creating ballets that used their special talents and gifts, recreating the role of Firebird to fit Maria Tallchief's style of movement, "a brilliant whirling creature," restoring the candy cane hoop dance to the Nutcracker to fit Robert Barnet's tireless vitality. She gives us insight into the making of avant garde masterpieces such as Opus 34, in which she appeared as a bandaged corpse, and Agon, which opened with Melissa Hayden's high speed footwork, and in which Balanchine experimented with silent arm gestures invented by the dancers themselves (which were cut from the final version). She shows us the theatres they performed in throughout Europe and across America, dark, drafty stages and blinding spotlights, how they rehearsed to the point of exhaustion, and, how, undeterred by blisters and sprains, they danced their hearts out on ancient splintered floors, thin wood planks laid on concrete, "raked" stages that tilted downward, in splendid costumes, or in worn toe shoes stuffed with paper, dazzling audiences wherever they went. Ms. Fisher weaves her personal story with that of Balanchine's company as she rose from the corps de ballet to soloist in works such as Illuminations and Afternoon of a Faun, traveled, made lasting friends, read voraciously and indiscriminately, and from time to time questioned Mr. Balanchine, on one o

My ballet experience is limited to one class I took as a 5 year old and a handful of ballets that I have gone to see over the years. And yet I was captivated by the glimpse of the world of a professional ballerina, particularly since it seems that Barbara Milberg Fisher was a participant in an important era in the development of American ballet. I have to admit that I do know Barbara personally as the mother of a college friend, but that had nothing to do with how much I enjoyed the book, except perhaps that it gave me new respect for her. Barbara's life as a young talented dancer seems so removed from the woman I knew as an English professor and the hard-working single mother of my friend. To be sure, her wit and quirky sense of humor are certainly recognizable in the book. And the "voice" is definitely hers. But it seemed incredible that the relatively modest woman I knew could have led such an exciting and impressive life as a young woman. I very much like that the book is about her experiences and yet is not at all a self-centered book. I suppose I'm guilty of believing in stereotypes (or in press accounts of the actions of famous dancers), as I tend to think of ballerinas as being vain, demanding, and self-absorbed. And yet even when the story is about something that happened to her, Barbara's focus is often on the other people rather than on herself. And she is quite honest in divulging some of her own mistakes and embarrassing moments. Her stories are humorous and even sometimes quite suspenseful (such as when she snuck into across the Berlin Wall). Her youthful exuberance, defiance, as well as dedication to ballet, are shown clearly in her vivid descriptions. I found that in reading the book, I learned about dance and dance history, world history, and even some lessons about dealing with people, all while being delightfully entertained.

Barbara Fisher is obviously a remarkable person who has a lot to tell us about the rigors of a life in dance as well as delightful stories about her interactions with Balanchine and many other key figures in the dance world, including Stravinsky. The book is a perfect gift for anyone who cares about the art of dance.