Heidi Ryom of the RDB. When I first saw her, in New York, I found her personality irritating and resented the fact that she was given roles that I felt should have gone to Lis Jeppesen, my favorite RDB ballerina of the time. For those who aren't familiar with Jeppesen, she was not only a wonderful dancer but had that rarest of qualities, that comes along maybe once a generation if we're lucky: the ability to carry you into another world the second you look at her. She was magical.
Then in 1992 I went to the Bournonville Festival in Copenhagen, and the very first ballet was Konservatoriet with Jeppesen, Nikolaj Hubbe, and Ryom. The choreography requires the two ballerinas to perform the same steps either side by side or on either side of the man, and Ryom was . . . oh, this was painful to have to admit! . . .
better. Yes, better than my beloved Lis, who had already peaked and was on the down side of the slope by this time. Not that she was bad, far from it, but step for step Ryom was stronger, cleaner, and more accurate.

As the week went on, I saw a lot more of Heidi, and my admiration for her dancing increased and irritation at her personality faded. She looked very different in the warm, close quarters of the Royal Theater -- more human, more approachable. What had seemed annoying and inappropriate at that big Broadway barn (otherwise known as the Met) fit right in in Copenhagen. This was the most striking example in my experience of learning to appreciate something (in this case a dancer, but it could have been a ballet, a choreographer, a style, too) only when I saw it in the proper mileu.