What Might Have Been

 

This past week, Fort Wayne Ballet staged our final in-theatre show of the season. Our dancers, after weeks of hard work and tireless dedication, made history with the first-ever staging of the complete works of Eddie Stierle in one show. Stierle, for those of you who don’t know, was a dancer and choreographer for the Joffrey Ballet in the late ‘80’s, until his tragic passing of AIDS in 1991. 

 

And he was brilliant. As a dancer, he was superhuman; as a choreographer, he was meteoric. Had he lived past the age of 23, there is no telling where his career could have taken him. Another Balanchine? Perhaps. A natural successor to the Joffrey throne, or pioneer to his own company? There’s only speculation at this point, but the waste of potential is only slightly less tragic than the loss of such an incredible young man. 

 

If you would like to know more about Eddie’s life and career, I would encourage you to link to our podcast and listen in on our recent three-part series. For the purpose of this blog, however, I would like to focus on the works themselves. Until our performance last week, I have never had an opportunity to see all three of these pieces performed, and now that I have seen them, I am full-to-bursting with things to say about them. Buckle up.

 

A few things to keep in mind as you read this: as I have said before, I have been on the periphery of the performing arts my whole life, but not dance. You will not get a review on dance technique from me, because I have no interest in embarrassing myself. I will say that from an observant layman’s perspective, we had a company of dancers who were earnestly giving their all to achieve a stunning performance. I know the dedication and professionalism that our dancers exhibit on a daily basis, and I have seen them give a lot of excellent performances, but there was something extra in their demeanor for this show. I’m not alone – I have spoken with attendees from our local arts community who claim they have never seen a better performance from our troupe. 

 

Since Lacrymosa is by far the most well-known of Stierle’s ballets, and because it and Empyrean Dances both bear the Joffery seal, you might overlook the lesser-known Concerto Con Brio, performed to the music of Prokofiev. Here’s my advice: don’t. Do not overlook this spritely, springy, cheerful blast of color and choreography. 

 

A powerhouse piece for female dancers, there are any number of interpretations and comparisons for the movements in Con Brio. At times they look like flowers blooming; sometimes they were as leaves swirling in the wind. Ultimately, the impression I received was of the personification of a smile. Almost the first thing I noticed was that each dancer wore a radiant smile, which somehow extended from their faces on down to fingertips and toeshoes. The footwork was like laughter skipping them across the stage. I could ramble on in poetic metaphors forever, but it ultimately boils down to my seven-year-old daughter’s review: “That was so awesome!”

 

I confess that I wondered, having only seen the solo previously, if Lacrymosa would live up to the hype. I didn’t know what I was getting into. A ballet about accepting death, Lacrymosa begins in mourning, thunders through anguish, and falls gently into grief. It’s powerful without being cliché. The solo, originally choreographed by Stierle as a teenager, is one of the most emotionally charged and energetic performances I’ve ever seen, and our lead killed it in what has to be a physically draining piece. He earned his standing O. Bravo!

 

I think I was most worried that Lacrymosa would be too heavy; that the gravitas would make the piece less enjoyable. But although every movement was weighted with emotion, the movements were swift and so beautifully complex that it was a joy to watch it unfold. I watched it with the same awe I feel while watching an Arpino ballet. What really amazes me about Eddie’s choreography is that not just the moves, but the symbolism is carefully layered. Every movement has meaning, and every meaning is layered into a masterful interpretation of what it means to grieve.  This is in a piece that he began working on as a 16-year-old. What teen has enough life experience to reach that level of emotional awareness? It baffles the mind.

 

And that leaves Empyrean Dances. This was the ballet I was most interested in seeing. I confess, after two viewings, I still don’t know exactly what to think. I feel a great deal of pride in our dancers for performing it (as far as I can tell) flawlessly. But I can’t decide how I feel about it. 

 

Bear in mind, this is the piece that Stierle finished in the very last stages of his illness. He passed away just days after the premiere. That in no way reflects the brilliance of the choreography. The whole piece is beautiful, and standing on its own, it holds onto a high standard for its artistic brilliance. But I kept watching it thinking that it wasn’t the sendoff that it needed to be. I’m not referring to our show, but to Eddie’s life. It’s a piece that should have represented the beginning or middle of his career, not the end. 

 

We had to place Empyrean at the end of our performance for so many reasons. It was his last ballet. Eddie himself envisioned it as the second half of his epitaph. Lacrymosa was about grief and Empyrean Dances was about life after death, so their order was preordained. Eddie’s attendance at the premiere was also his last public appearance, so yes, we must close with Empyrean Dances.

 

But emotionally, it works better as a transition piece between the smiles and laughing feet of Concerto Con Brio and the finality and inevitability of life that is Lacrymosa. Like the struggle of life and death itself, it’s hard to move on to something cheerful after a contemplation on mortality. That said, I am fully behind Stierle’s reasoning for the piece, which is truly beautiful, and my one wish is that no one so young, anyone, should have to come to grips with such concepts. But there is such an open-endedness to Empyrean that I feel the two should have been reversed. Lacrymosa is such an exercise in finality that I feel it would have been an emotionally satisfying closing piece to the show. Either way, it was a triumph for the dancers, and I’m so proud that they did such a tremendous job.

 

My congratulations to our company for a wonderful season. Keep an eye out for our Firefly Tour next week, as we bring free shows to Bluffton, Angola, Auburn, and Fort Wayne, and look for more podcasts and blogs soon.