Thank you, Helene. "Passion for movement." Kistler, whom I saw most before her injury and layoff, was one of those dancers who internalize this passion. With young Kistler, as with Farrell, the energy and feeling seemed to come from deep inside, something she released into the air -- set free, as it were -- when she went on stage.
This topic got me to turn to Arlene Croce's 1986 essay, "Hard Facts," reprinted in
Writing in the Dark.
Croce says the following about Kistler, after her return to the stage following serious injury. Remember, this is 1986, 22 years ago:
QUOTE
Now that she is back, she hadlly ever performs, although she is scheduled frequently enough. And she is missed. It's my impression that her cancellations are the most deeply felt and hungrily discussed by the subscribers. To this large andloyal audience, Kistler's absences really matter.
And:
QUOTE
I have the feeling that for Kistler a performance is a precariously held-together illusion each separate second of which must be predetermined and delivered in a set form. Performance than becomes something to be endured, a pleasasnt ordeal like holding your breath underwater. Yet when Kistler dances she looks utterly spontaneous. Is this, too, a dreamed-up effect?
Gelsey Kirkland had the same look of sponteaneity, and she held to the same overfastidious metehods of preparation, and her career, the single most promising one of the seventies, was over before the end of the decade.
I don't say that Kistler is Kirkland all over again; I say that a provably bad method cannot be made good even if every other factor in the equation is different. One would prefer that, with the repertory she stands to inherit, Kistler spent more time in the world where it was made.
Is the comparison to Kistler valid? If so, Kistler's ability to sustain such a long career seems to have been both a miracle and a triuimph.