Ballanchine, Nureyev, Baryshnikov

The fairy stories say that on New Year's Eve, between the first and twelfth strokes of midnight, all rules are suspended. A child can dance with Orion. A girl walks into the cuckoo clock and steps out in Russia.

I feel that way about the last week of the year: Anything can happen.

I watched specials on Nureyev, Baryshnikov, Balanchine. I can't get them out of my head. They shimmer like a chord made of snow.

If we dip our finger in water and write, our feelings while we write change the crystalline structure of the water.

Nureyev, sick with Aids but still strong, sat naked on a rock at the end of his video, looking at the sea from his island. Then he stood and dived in. The camera followed him as he swam, until a rock intervened and he vanished. As uneventfully as he had arrived -- he was gone.

(Here, Akropolis's three voices begin to sing that soft dark Russian folksong -- "Bayuuuushk...". Over it, we see the dancers' images appear...)


Ballanchine (Balanchivadze)


Nureyev and Ballanchine


Nureyev and Baryshnikov


Nureyev


Nureyev, just before disappearing


Ballanchine teaching Baryshnikov "Prodigal Son"


Ballanchine and Baryshnikov


Baryshnikov as Prodigal Son, pulling himself up his father's body with only arms and abs, in ultra-slow-motion the whole way...






...until he ends curled into his father's neck