EAST LYME — The New York City Ballet lost one of its premier ballerinas in January when the lightning-speed Ashley Bouder — with a jump that vaulted into David H. Koch Theater’s fly-space — retired after 20 years as a principal.
New York City’s loss is Connecticut’s gain. Bouder has not slowed her pace; she’s busy stepping into her new role as Executive Director of the Eastern Connecticut Ballet, where she will not only oversee the training and choreography, but also its fundraising and development.
Born in Carlisle, PA, Bouder grew up as one of the “barn babies” at the Central Pennsylvania Youth Ballet. Located in a former sheep barn, it was founded in 1955 by the diminutive but exacting Marcia Dale Weary, whose emphasis on precision, placement, and repetition carved out a preternatural excellence in young students. They sprouted ballet form as if grown out of the soil.
At age 15, Bouder moved from Carlisle to New York City to study at the School of American Ballet, the training ground for choreographer George Balanchine. Bouder’s energy, super-fast footwork, and use of space fit Balanchine’s style of movement. She was almost immediately accepted into the New York City Ballet, then directed by Peter Martins.
Later in her career, Bouder became vocal about women’s roles in the ballet community, challenging engrained issues of bullying, favoritism, and body shaming. In a recent interview with the CT Examiner, Bouder talks about peak and painful experiences in her ballet career. She also notes some of the ways she’d like to help create shifts in how ballet is done.
What is your earliest memory of dance?
AB: Marcia molding my feet and doing my tendus for me. I can still see the top of her head in my mind, as she stretched my arches.
What do you remember as particularly helpful about the teaching at the Central Pennsylvania Youth Ballet?
AB: Each teacher had their strengths. Marcia gave the same class day in and day out, from the time you were a little kid until you left — that was comforting, you went back to the basics all the time. Melinda Howe taught you to use the proper muscles; that was her strength, that was important. Leslie Hench would come in with a new thing once a month — Paris Opera, Vaganova, Cecchetti Method. It was exciting, because you never knew what she was going to focus on, and it also gave you a lot of range.
Coming from this diversity, what are your thoughts on the Balanchine technique?
AB: With Balanchine’s style, you get a bit of artistic license. The arms are not rigid; you can bend as much as you want. The whole thing is about “more… do more!” You can elongate, stretch the form. There is a freedom in that. As a young person with a lot of energy, that can be exhilarating and freeing.
But it is very specialized. When I see kids who are trained only in Balanchine, I wonder if they can do other things. It limits their potential if they only train in that specific style. I think it needs to be incorporated into any ballet syllabus; every company does do some Balanchine, but it’s usually not the main attraction. In the times we live in now, contemporary ballet is the thing that students need training in.
How do you incorporate contemporary ballet?
AB: Well, I think we need to start with a classical basis. The Balanchine style — in my opinion, it’s not so much a technique, it’s more of a style — was added onto the classical. That’s what Balanchine did; he had all these Russian teachers at the School of American Ballet. To that classical basis, he added his own style.
We have to prepare students to do that with other forms, too. Adding contemporary components on top of the classical vocabulary — well, it’s a whole different language. And there are so many different types of contemporary. You can’t have just one teacher — all kinds of contemporary are different flavors, and they are specific. You need to train students to be as versatile as possible, because you don’t know which companies will want you, or need you.
Were there moments where you almost “threw in the towel” or had serious doubts about becoming a professional?
AB: I had them mostly when I was little — I got bullied a lot. I was always in class with dancers who were 4 or 5 years older than me. I remember Adam Hendrickson flicked a rubber band at my butt. I burst into tears and stood in the back of the classroom. Noelani Pantastico defended me. She flicked the rubber band back at Adam. She was four years older than me. And by the way, everyone in this story has gone on to have major careers! Adam was a soloist at the New York City Ballet [he now teaches at School of American Ballet]. Noelani was a principal at the Pacific Northwest Ballet.
I joined the New York City Ballet when I was 16. I was very young and I had a lot of moments of being picked on. I had girls tell me that I’m never going to get that role. I had girls going past me and whispering, “I hope you fall tonight.” What can you do with that? — “I hope I don’t?”
There was no HR department in those years. You either went and told Peter Martins or you sucked it up. I was performing the principal role of Firebird while still in the corps — of course that didn’t help this situation; I had a target on my back, basically. I remember I had a matinee of Firebird. I had been picked on so badly that I didn’t know if I could go onstage. I came in early to put on makeup — there’s so much makeup for Firebird — and I was there before anybody else. Then the ringleader of the bullies came in, and I went up and talked to her. I said, just leave me alone today. Just leave me alone. If you don’t, I’m going to tell Peter. Nobody talked to me that day. The worst thing was to have the wrath of the boss on you because you were being mean.
What was most surprising to you, in entering into the professional ballet world?
AB: I came to SAB at age 15. The first two classes I took, both of the teachers limped when they walked. I thought, is that it’s like to dance? It was very bizarre to me. Then, I had a rehearsal director who said, Peter Martins really likes your dancing and wants to use you in more work, but you have to lose 10-20 pounds, and then he’ll really like you. Can you imagine what that does to you? On top of all the other anxieties: “Oh, now they think I’m fat.” And I was a little thing, 110 pounds. But I lost the weight — and see what happened.
It’s such a huge issue in the ballet world. Is there a specific policy these days at Eastern Connecticut Ballet, on talking about weight?
AB: There is no specific policy. But I would never initiate any conversation with a dancer about weight. Probably all of us teachers have all gone through something like that when we were dancing, so we would never bring it up. If a dancer specifically asks about it; say, if the dancer wants to be in a company that has a certain look, then perhaps there’s a conversation there. On the other hand, if they are losing too much weight, and we see they have a problem, that could a conversation too — if they want to talk about it. Also, these are children. I’d want to talk about it with their parents present. There’s no world where I would want to walk into a room and talk about this without parents present.
What were some peak experiences in your career?
AB: I remember my first Sleeping Beauty was exhilarating. I was 20 years old and in the corps when I was promoted to soloist. I learned the lead part of Aurora, but I didn’t expect to perform it. But we were all looking at our partnering assignments and I saw “Your partner is Damian Woetzel” — principal dancer. I was totally blown away. I had such fun with him, and in the role, too. Actually being able to dig into my classical roots, because you didn’t get to do that so much at NYCB. In rehearsal, Peter Martins would say, “You look so Royal Ballet.” I was like, that’s right, you bet I do!
Why did you decide to retire from NYCB?
AB: A lot of injuries. My body hurt. I had two very bad injuries, and it got to the point where I said, I cannot do this again. I can’t take months and months off and then retrain and step back in. I tore my plantar fascia, and it was not addressed properly. I didn’t get the right rehabilitation. I came back, and then I tore my posterior tibial tendon — that’s your relevé and your jump right there. I healed it. But both injuries were on the same side. I thought, my body is telling me that I need to stop, and so I listened to it.
What was the impetus to come to Eastern Connecticut Ballet?
AB: This was a conversation several years in the making. I taught here for the summer intensive a number of years ago. I was put in touch by a friend with Gloria [Govrin] and offered the possibility, but at that point I said, I cannot take on responsibility while I’m still doing my career. But then the end of my career came. I went back and said, I’m free!
Though it is slowly changing, ballet still gets stuck in a world of white people dancing in white in white-themed ballets. How can ballet be something everyone feels invited into?
AB: You have to show it on the stage, in the products that you put out. Concentrated effort from the very top. You have to attract the parents and the kids — and they have to see something that looks like them. When you see all white people onstage, that’s not inclusive. Perception is reality. It means diversifying your teachers, too. It’s slowly changing, but it has taken a long time to get to this point, and it will continue to take time. But we do want to change the landscape.
Living now in Connecticut: are there other interests that you’re pursuing in addition to ballet?
AB: Not at the moment. Learning and running a school is a very big hill to climb. But I kind of enjoy being a soccer mom — making new mom friends that are not ballet friends.