On a different thread, ViolinConcerto cited a review by Lewis Segal of the documentary aired by PBS, 'Nureyev: The Russian Years' and a preview of Julie Kavanaugh's upcoming biography, Nureyev: The Life, which addressed the issue of Nureyev and demi-pointe. I've created this thread to discuss the Kavanaugh biography.

leonid wrote

Thanks, Helene. I wanted to add that you can pre-order the book on Amazon (cllick the link above). Publication date is supposed to be October 2 in the US.

Segal's take on Nureyev is so emotionaly overwrought and vitriolic ("sociopath") that he creates the impression that Kavanagh is a muckraker who has raked quite a lot of muck. Whether this is actually the case, we'll find out when the book appears. In the meantime, links to pre-reviews, interviews, etc., would be welcome.

Well, Kavanaugh's already gone into grand detail about Ashton's sex life, so why not Nureyev's? I mean, it tells us so much about what made him a great artist.

It makes one glad not to be famous.

From Segal's review, it sounds like in his opinion, Kavanaugh doesn't go far enough, and isn't enough of an iconoclast.

I'd rather read what Kavanaugh says, rather than what Segal says she says.

(Kavanaugh's book is also in our "Mini Store" [link under our logo]).

Ugh, reading that Segal review made me sick, as it seems to twist every action into proof that Nureyev was a "sociopath." I can't wait to read the actual Kavanaugh biography, although I thought the Solway biography was very well-researched and was satisfied with it.

A tip for those looking for the author on a search engine: it's "Kavanagh" without the "u."

As to the sex and celebrity side of things, they seem much more relevant to Nureyev's biography than they were to poor Frederick Ashton's. Nureyev courted the press and never seemed to have many secrets. His celebrity as a dancer was very much intertwined with his celebrity as a larger than life character and blatantly sexual being.

Nureyev's dancing, it sometimes seemed to me, was actually rather restrained when compared to his behavior off stage. At least we know that Kavanagh will be able to do justice to his public, artistic life, no matter what she ends up saying about his private life..

Thanks for that, bart!

For a view of Nureyev (and Kavanagh's book) that's more judicious than Mr. Segal's, try this one by by Matthew Gurewitsch in today's NYTimes:
The Nureyev Nobody Knows, Young and Wild

I would like to know how Nureyev's sex life made him a great artist? I know it made him dead.

"His celebrity as a dancer was very much intertwined with his celebrity as a larger than life character and blatantly sexual being."

Really did the whole world know about his sexuality? I think not.

Many of his fans were women(so were Fonteyn's) and in the 60's people who went to the ballet in London where he spent a lot of time, were publicly less obsessed with sex and his appeal to gay men at that time seemed very limited.

In the UK in the 1960's at least, the population was only just leaving behind the accepted moral code of the earlier majority. Nureyev's sexuality was not discussed in the press and it was only when his partner, assistant and film maker was seen regularly around, that any such talk really developed among ballet goers. He was frequently photographed with women and there was gossip about him and a member of America's high society and others.

His earlier relationship with Erik Bruhn was known, that was seen to have an aura of romance about it. It was not discussed in sordid or explicit terms in my experience and never reached the press at that time.

Having watched ballet in various countries since 1960 when still at school, it was my impression that ballet-goers were more interested in performances and what was happening next season rather than cheap gossip.

It is quite apparent to everyone that society values have deteriorated and people are now baying for the blood and souls of distinguished people of culture, who made inestimable contributions to many lives.

I think Kavanagh's book on Ashton missed elements of his personality that I had witnessed and that senior members of the Royal Ballet were affronted at much which was said in her biography.

Probably not at the time of his defection. And possibly not in all places. But by the latter part of the 60s, in New York City at least, this was widely known among those who attended ballet regularly, and was quite visible if you were in the right part of town.

I don't think it was part of his image in the press, and there were no blogs to obsess about such things and hang the laundry out for all to see.

However, the terms "exotic," "outrageous," and even "glamourous" carried a subtext in those days as they do today. It was fun, not prurient. And there were fewer fundamentalist ministers in the media to remind us how sinful a great deal of life is reputed to be.

By the mid-1970s (when I started being interested in ballet) Nureyev's sexuality was discussed, publicly and privately, although, as has been pointed out, not incessantly. I can remember reading that "pansexuality" was part of his appeal, and one of the first things I read about him, in Ballet Review, was a comment by Violette Verdy (meant in the nicest possible way) that he was a "great big Muslim whore." That said, I agree with leonid that this wasn't the focus of articles in the world before People Magazine. People discussed Nureyev as a dancer. One might ask, "Is he gay?" and get a "Oh, God yes" as an answer, but that was the end of the conversation, at least in my circles. (Nureyev was interviewed by John Gruen for Gruen's gossip book, "The Private World of Ballet" and asked why he wasn't married. His answer was, "Why should I make some girl miserable?" and I think it was taken by many to be a reference to his justly famous temperament.)

I'm looking forward to the PBS special, especially the dance footage

i also recall when morley safer interviewed him for 60 minutes, and asked if he regretted not having married and produced little nureyevs and his response was something along the lines of 'and what if they were not as good as me? what would i do with those imbeciles?'

Thank you, bart -- I've changed the spelling in the title of the thread.

"Why should I make some girl miserable?"

That's a very good answer to that question.

He could have and chose not to, and all would have been well from a public-facing standpoint. And he didn't seem to be interested in finding someone for whom this would be a well-understood bargain, either.

I remember reading the same question, followed by the same reply in, if I remember correctly, different interview. In that context, Nureyev seemed to be alluding most obviously to his never-in-one-place-for-long jetsetting lifestyle, but there was plenty of room for inference. It's a brilliant answer!

I took this to be Leigh speaking tongue-in-cheek, which he does so well.

Leigh?

When I posted the above I had just read Segal's article and I was extremely irritated by it, so much so that I missed the irony in Leigh's comment.
My apologies.

I don’t want to start the old ‘Secret Muses’ debate up again, but although the book was far from flawless I found much of what Kavanagh had to say about Ashton and his love affairs to be of considerable interest. (The letters to Dick Beard, to take only one example, were remarkable reading.) And from what I gather, we owe much of the new material in the forthcoming documentary to one of Nureyev’s early lovers. I’m looking forward to both film and book.

I also suspect that, whatever his views while he was still alive (he was a mixture of discretion and boldness, it seems to me) Nureyev would be tickled pink to know that all these years later people are still interested in his sex life.....

About that, at least, there can be no controversy.

Especially since we are also still very interested in, and fascinated by, his art.

That sort of goes without saying, at least as far as BTers are concerned, I should think. (I trust I don’t have to supply an 'I’m Interested in the Art' disclaimer every time the subject arises.)

The last time I checked the membership list, Lewis Segal wasn't on it, so I think we're safe

The producer of the documentary makes an interesting point about Nureyev and his excesses:


(Copied from the Sunday LINKS, the first post. Thanks, pmeja.
http://ballettalk.invisionzone.com/index.p...mp;#entry210982

Someone's sex life does tell us about what makes them a great artist when it is obviously libido that goes into all kinds of artistic artistry, and there is not even always even any gap in someone like Nureyev between aspects of their sexuality and their art. Other dancers too, he was just more flamboyant, I think that's cool enough and that his wildness of sexuality should have been part of what made him unique. In any case, it's not possible that it would not. Of course, details of it are unnecessary for that art and this then forms a new more pornographic field. I believe it is in Suzanne Farrell's 'Holding on to the Air' that she says something about how neither she nor Balanchine were especially interested in sex. So the libido gets redirected effectively--this doesn't mean Farrell didn't come across as very sexy sometimes, but it was a different sort of sexuality one would see with a dancer like her than with someone like Nureyev who did go to the Eagle's Nest and did go to the piers on the Hudson. So what? I did too.

But Bart is right about the way everybody in the Arts knew about Nureyev's sexual adventuring in the 70s--at least in New York. There were photos bandied about, he was seen frequently in racy places (by me among others), this was all even more well-known to me through friends of Nureyev by about 1973 onward in a good bit of detail, and even before that people talked about it. I haven't read these articles, and don't see Nureyev especially as a 'sociopath' or 'psychopath' even if all or most of the details written about his sex life are true. But I see little reason to expect new documents on any famous people to be discreet and tasteful, that's not what they're about, they're about selling to current tastes for gossip, of course.

On the other hand, things like Norman Mailer's 'Portrait of Picasso as a Young Artist' shows you a way of dealing with this kind of genius celebrity-artist that also does not cover up his faults. Picasso was clearly an incredibly selfish person in some of his actions even early on, and I haven't gotten to his middle and later years. What he did in terms of his cowardice in terms of Apollinaire is quite as reprehensible as possible. It is a peculiar contradiction that sometimes the greatest artists' ruthlessness may be what makes their particular art possible, it is all definitely a part of what goes into the art. It is possible to try to overlook this because of an artist's greatness, but this is more wishful IMO than anything else, because you don't find out the full range of what went into making this exceptional being. It is necessary to accept that one has to live with the uncomfortable, unresolved contradictions. Mind you, not that I think the contemporary way of explicating every single drop of sweat and cheap pop-song synthetic-romance baubles is admirable, but I don't take it as seriously as some do. Ultimately, the Mailer books on Monroe and Picasso are higher-toned versions of the same thing. It's probable that most of us involved in the Arts think that artists deserve some special privileges and immunity from intrusion. I often feel this, but do know it is pretty much unrealistic, simply because that immunity has been steadily eroding and anyone can get arrested for almost anything, much less gossipped about.

But I think the healthiest way to look at Nureyev's promiscuity is to see it as a part of his adventurous artistry: People going on endlessly about his 'animalism' and 'raw sensuality' didn't pull it out of nowhere; to say otherwise is only to repudiate something very fundamental about Nureyev's very character, but which is to me a mostly positive kind of energy, but this is often done with sex when it gets into some of the less conventional practices (I don't mean homosexuality so much as public sex and promiscuity--and these don't work at all outside very free zones). Now someone on this board mentioned, during that discussion of Simone Clarke and the BNP, that Nureyev had 'knowingly infected partners with HIV', but without any proof of this. If that part is true, then that is a different story, as no one can really expect such to be excusable. Personally, I don't believe that is probable, and don't think Nureyev would have done this. I asked a few people who might have known, and they agreed--however, I can't say that I know for sure about this. I do think that in the early 90s, people still were not as highly tuned to carefulness as they have steadily become over the years since the beginning of the AIDS epidemic, and that there are periods in which people are more careful vacillating with other periods of greater strictness.

A reaction to the book extract from Julie Kavanagh's biography of Nureyev:
"Did Rudolf Nureyev and Margot Fonteyn have an affair or didn't they?"

Reading this excerpt made me think about three things....

1. Should a biographer practice restraint with using the material they gather? I believe, yes.

I found the statements about Fonteyn's abilities as a lover quite disturbing. They are what you would expect to find in the tabloids rather than a scholarly work.

2. The key point for me is Ashton's statement:

When the choreographer Frederick Ashton and his Norfolk neighbour Keith
Money, the ballet writer, discussed the matter, each was "adamantly certain"
that nothing took place; and when questioned in his eighties, Ashton had not
changed his mind. "I don't think that he awakened in her any sexual thing.
You always love the person you dance with for that moment, and something
must emanate from you that communicates itself to the audience."

Surely a tremendous amount of excitement is generated during rehearsals and performances from moments of creative synergy. My feeling is that these two artists of consummate artistry had the ability to "flow", (using Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's word), together.

3. Did they sleep together?

Who really cares?

Going off topic, but what I think she meant to say was that although once they had been lovers of a sort, ultimately their connection was something quite other and beyond (although not necessarily superior, I don’t want to appear to denigrate sexual bonds, which can be as intense and meaningful as any other kind). Balanchine was certainly very interested in sex – that was, finally, the reason she had to leave the company when she did. I’m amazed and impressed that such a young and unworldly woman was able to resist the psychological pressure applied to her by her boss -- and her mother.

innopac, I agree, for the most part. Kavanagh probably got the line you quote in no. 1 from Meredith Daneman’s biography of Fonteyn, and it is regrettable that she elected to repeat it, when I should have thought that once was a good deal more than enough. However, if a given subject had a general reputation as a great lover, or the reverse, that is worth a mention – in moderation.

As for whether a writer should discuss whether Fonteyn and Nureyev had an affair -- yes, in a biography of either party that aims for completeness and is not solely artistic in focus that is a question that should addressed, even though it’s been hashed over repeatedly. The issue, for me, is how much space should be devoted to the matter (in my view, very little), and whose opinions are sought and quoted, and the biographer’s approach generally. Daneman went on for pages. I hope Kavanagh spares us that.

Yes, it's stunningly impressive, and one journalist described her later as having left NYCB 'with great eclat'. While it's actually sad in terms of Balanchine himself being unable to see this as he would later (and as she recounts in 'Elusive Muse'), I'm afraid I'm a little amused at the way she rebuffed her mother... Of course it's true what you say about Balanchine, I was basing some of this on things Maria Tallchief said about some of those areas of activity--I got the idea it was of more symbolic importance than in any way obsessive as uncontrollable libido (with Nureyev's appetites being the extreme of something like that), but others will know more about this than I do.

Farrell was young and a practicing Catholic. She's said and written that this was an issue for her. She also said in Elusive Muse, that there were times when she was ready for a full relationship with him, but he was feeling guilty about Tanaquil Leclerq, and times when he was ready, and she was feeling guilty about Tanaquil Leclerq.

Also in Elusive Muse, she tries to explain that they got much physical gratification out of working together in the studio. She ends by saying, "It was great!" with the most wonderful smile. What productive sublimation! Freud would have been proud.

Tallchief has also said and written many times that Balanchine had chosen her as a key dancer for his new company, and has said several times that he wanted to be married her to keep her loyalty to him. Just like he said, "Don't be angry, save it for the work," I would think that this would apply to all other non-ballet-focused expenditures of energy and focus. Given how she struggled to balance her career with the passionate romantic life she had after her marriage to Balanchine ended, I would say that was good strategy.

Very true – but I wonder. I could be wrong about this but I think it wasn’t until her book came out that she began talking about her ‘amorous feelings’ for Balanchine, and in light of her quite normal interest in young men of her own age (the ‘Roger’ in her autobiography) – I wonder if she really felt a genuine physical attraction or if she’s mostly being tactful and protective of Balanchine. (The age difference and her religious affiliation wouldn’t necessarily have mattered, I think, if Farrell’s own character and psychology had been of a different stamp.)


Moving away a bit from what Mary Astor refers to in “ The Palm Beach Story” as Topic A, I was interested in this quote from the Times link:

As far as I can tell halfway in, the Nureyev biography is much better than the Ashton book - especially in balancing the intimacy stuff.

The book is, like all biographies these days, way too long, but Kavanagh will set the standard in RN biography, I suspect.

I'll post a link when I write the review.

Joan Acocella’s review appears in the October 8 issue of The New Yorker. She’s rather hard on Nureyev. I don’t mean to suggest he’s beyond criticism and we all have our preferences, but it’s quite a contrast to those Shiatsu massages she gives Baryshnikov in print.

http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/book...?printable=true

Marc Haegeman did a series of interviews with French etoiles for DanceView over the past few years. Odd, if Nureyev's relationship was so antagonistic with the company that each of them spent a good chunk of their interviews explaining, in explicit detail, what they got from him, how much they admired him, etc.

Alexandra, perhaps both versions are true, depending on the situation and on the individual dancers. Those who were young (and adaptable) when Nureyev arrived probably had a more favorable (or at least less jarring) experience than those who were committed to the old POB way of doing things. Those who impressed Nureyev by their abilties -- and, possibly, by malleability and cooperativeness -- also would have had an easier time. I'm thinking of the DanceView cover story on Laurent Hilaire, whom Nureyev made an etoile in the mid 80s.

There was also the thinly veiled series of infomercials about POB productions, "Dancer's Dream." In the Raymonda version, Manuel Legris, a contemporary of Hilaire, who was heavily promoted as Hilaire's equal during the POB's NYC appearances, was less than impressed by Nureyev, which was shockingly negative given the "rah-rah" nature of the series.

I think it may have depended on the cost-benefit analysis of each dancer, much like stories of working with Jerome Robbins read: was the behavior worth it in the end to that dancer? Was there recognition of genius, and, if so, was it enough? To Armen Bali, Jane Hermann was too thin-skinned; clearly, to Jane Hermann, the answer was "no."

I love this quote:

"I think about Rudolf all the time now," Legris concludes. "Everybody does. It is very strange how we all think so much about Rudolf, now. Every day someone remembers something else. `Oh, you know, Rudolf used to say that this step was . . .' His corrections, the things he tried to get us to do. I don't just mean that I think about him in rehearsal or when I see something that reminds me of him. I mean, when I am just sitting here. When I am by myself. Maybe putting on my makeup before a performance."

from Merchant Prince of Ballet by Otis Stuart

By chance I came upon this article of January 25, 1962 from the New Yorker by the late Janet Flanner on Nureyev's defection.

It begins at a high temperature and gets ever hotter:



(Edited to correct the date of the article to 1962, as vrsfanatic says.)

I believe the date is incorrect...January 25, 1962 might be more appropriate.

Thanks for that piece, ViolinConcerto. What a discovery! Flanner would certainly have been reporting -- in her wonderful rococo manner -- what the Parisian social/intellectual/artistic classes saw and felt. I love the following:Note that disdain and hauteur are presented as positives. I suspect they were a big part of the allure that he exerted over audiences.

Yes, there's a certain kind of 'total fan' who goes for this aspect. It's allowed at a certain tipping point of thralldom, so that a few performers like Nureyev and Garbo can pull this off after they've first applied the total joy of their own narcissism to themselves. After they have proved it to themselves, they can then use it as part of their public persona. I see this as perfectly normal if you can do it, or if it isn't normal, that's irrelevant. Some of the writing about these superstars is maybe a little embarassing, but that's because it's a few steps removed from the actual nakedness that only the most adept narcissist can deliver. Much better to go all the way with super-style like that, than part of the way like certain American politicians who think 'mild continental style' will make them look something other than weak.

I love it! Talk about hitting the nail on the head about a certain category of "legend." (Remember the Blackgama mink coat ads?) Thanks, papeetepatrick, for that insight.

You can buy one of those posters now, on eBay -- the version where RN posed with Martha Graham and Margot Fonteyn -- for a mere $295.

Those were the days when a legend was a Legend. Today's "legends" include Cindy Crawford and Elle MacPherson. They may yet become legendary -- who knows? -- but are they now?

was.....Peter Martins a legend or a Legend? when, all of a sudden I turned over the cover of the New Yorker in the early 80s to find him dripping with fur? (carbro will hate this, but I couldn't resist. I myself wasn't quite sure that had been totally appropriate. Someone said, by way of explanation: 'The money...')

I only hope there's a little more balance in the book.

No, carbro doesn't hate this.

At the time Martins was, I'd say, a Legend, but not (as were Graham, Fonteyn and Nureyev) a Legend.

I do remember that particular ad. I've often wondered how many actual readers (even allowing for the fact that they were an affluent glossy magazine audience) were able to recognize some of the "legends" who appeared in that campaign.

Nureyev cultivated exposure all over, and people were fascinated with him for many reasons, not all of them having to do with dancing. .I'll bet he had remarkable recognition levels. Fewer would have been able to name Fonteyn and Graham, I imagine, but they did fairly well.

I can't imagine, however, that many people outside New York City and Copenhagen could have put a name to Martins. One quality of "legends"-- and it's even more true about Legends -- is that people generally know who they are.

I wonder who the genuine ballet "legends" (in terms of glamour, image, and name recognition) there are in the world today.

I guess writers can't bear to leave out any of their research. With some bios I don't mind it - much depends on the writer (and my interest in the subject).

I agree, I think this will probably be the last word on Nureyev for some time. Has anyone begun reading the book yet?

Author event:
Ms. Kavanagh will be discussing the book on Tuesday, Oct. 9, at 7:30 pm.

Barnes & Noble at Lincoln Square.
1972 Broadway @ 66th St. (entrance also on Columbus Ave.)

Check with store to confirm: 212-595-6859

Not cover to cover yet, only spent 2hrs skimming thru various chapters while in a Borders in Islington, London. They had LOTS of copies, prominently displayed, but thought I'd wait to get back to the States (and hopefully better prices) before purchasing.

Much of what I read was contained in that recent PBS Great Perfs. broadcast as far as info, it just went into more, and more, and more detail. IMHO what did come through was the very indominatable will of it's subject, his insatiable quest for more...(fill in the blank), and a certain refusal to acknowledge obstacles or consequences--to good and bad effect.

As I said above, this was only my brief impression, from a very cursory read.

I cannot help but think Acocella somehow falls into the trap of not liking a biography because she would not want to be its subject's friend.

This is a link to my review of Kavanagh's Nureyev biography:

http://www.hermanstevens.nl/result_non-fictie.asp?Id=62

One aspect of the book I didn't have any space for is the disconcerting collusion of journalist / critics and the dancer / company at the time. One cannot help but hope things have gotten a little better in the intervening decades

There's the strange case of Nigel Gosling, one of Nureyev closest London friends, who also happened to be a critic writing under the nom de plume Alexander Bland. Even Kavanagh has a hard time at some points in the book telling the two personae apart. In the USA there's the critic John Martin writing virtual love letters to Kirstein (of all people!), and a minor case is a Viennese critic who's sure she is the woman who can save Nureyev's life.

Do you think Kavanagh does a good job alerting us to this? In other words, is the collusion disconcerting in itself, or because JK can't "unpack" it? Do say more--yes, it certainly might be disconcerting on a local level (or for other reasons? say more if you can), but culturally it's a fascinating reflection of mid-century critical practices.