Emmanuel Thibault : Style, technique and music

Early steps

It was at the age of five that I knew I wanted to dance.  No-one had suggested it – it was I who clamoured for lessons.  My early steps were taken with Françoise Eymard, who taught at the time at a school in Gagny.  But I was too young, and was only accepted as a pupil when I’d turned seven.  Françoise Eymard realised that I had some ability, and was sharp enough to pack me off to professors of repute.

Which is how I met Patrick Dupond; it was he who presented me to Max Bozzoni, with whom I began to study at the age of eight, before joining the Paris Opera School one year later.  In those days, the School was still at the Palais Garnier; there I studied for six years, three at Garnier and three at Nanterre, the suburb to which the School then moved.

Once I’d joined the School, I carried on studying with Max Bozzoni throughout my schooldays.  M. Bozzoni always told us that all effort must be disguised, that it must be masked from view.  His students, every last one of them, all have a sense of coordination, an ease in their movements, that one sees straight off.  Max Bozzoni was a great stickler for the musical and artistic side of the dance, whereas he is often – quite wrongly – presented as mainly preoccupied with technique.  

Though technique represents our words, the basis for the choreographic language that one must master first and foremost, afterwards one has got to make sentences of those words and turn them into art, and that is precisely what mattered to Max Bozzoni.  He also gave us a sense for the stage, and for what it is to perform.

I studied at the School from the Sixth to the First form (the Order of the forms being inverted in French schools – editor’s note).  The Sixth Form, for the littlest pupils, was set up the very year I arrived.  Personally, I came under a deal of pressure at the School.  In the Sixth Form, I was ranked first, but I didn’t specially grasp what that meant.  It was only afterwards that one realises that rank has some importance; M. Bozzoni liked to encourage a bit of rivalry amongst us, and he wanted me to be first in class.

Figures of speech...

I joined the POB in September 1990.  For the entrance examination, known as the Concours, I danced Albrecht’s variation from Giselle, and the one with the petite batterie from Etudes.  The former variation is one of the first that young dancers work on, as it’s quite academic, and doesn’t call for a specialised approach to style.  

Style, now there’s an issue !  When one says « he’s got style », to my mind, it means nothing much.  There has got to be proper placement and rigour, without looking like a schoolboy though.  One has got to be a master of placement and technique so as to be free, rather than allow oneself to be hindered or snowed under by technique.  As I see it, « style » is rather a vague notion, one that may vary in the light of the individual’s own natural abilities.  No two dancers are alike.  But in an institution like the Paris Opera, the academic canon is of the essence.  Should we, at the Paris Opera, ever come to disregard the foundations of the academic canon – which does not of course mean becoming slave to it – the classical dance in the world will go into sharp decline.  From that standpoint, yes, I do believe that one must look to our company’s « style ».

Though it may seem contradictory to say this, Max Bozzoni was not all that « academic », and he was often accused of being somewhat lax on placement.  That charge is untrue, and I can vouch for it !  Although he would never emasculate someone’s dance in the interest of placement, he’d always correct me if he saw a faulty position.

On the proper place of technique

The reason why I’m now in a fairly secure position to deal with technical roles, is that from my earliest years, i.e. ten or eleven, I focused, intensively, on technique.  It becomes, in a way natural, one needn’t give thought later on as to how a figure should be performed.  

As for ballon?  Well, this may seem a surprise, but when I was at the Opera School, I could not jump all that high.  Seeing those shortcomings, Bozzoni would make sport of me.  Alexis Renaud [now Coryphée at the POB – editor’s note], had natural ballon.  One day we were both working with M. Bozzoni, who turned to me and said:  «take a look at the infant next to you, he jumps higher »!  

It’s not easy to jump !  I worked very hard to acquire ballon, and if someone actually got down to measuring this sort of thing, frankly, I’m not at all certain that I’d be found to jump higher than others.  It’s an effect that one produces, that has to do with how one coordinates the torso with the legs.  Yes, I do have a muscle-build that allows me to jump high, but in point of fact, it’s the WAY I dance that has given me that muscle-build.  Which came first, the chicken or the egg ?!

Anyway, in respect of petite batterie, it’s simple:  if one wishes to be precise, one has got to work at it, and hard.  Nothing secret about that !  Again, it’s really a help, to work hard at technique from a very early age.  It’s far easier to teach very young children technique.  

As I’ve said, I believe one is better off stressing a feeling for movement and coordination, rather than forcefully pushing and pulling on placement and turnout.  Those can be put to rights at a later point, but if technique and coordination are lacking … The only solution, is work, and more work.  One learns to know oneself only through repeating something over and again.  In rehearsal, the professor gives us instructions and guidelines.  But once one is out there on the stage, one musn’t be found dithering over « how ? ».  It’s got to be automatic, one has got to have fully assimilated the professor’s remarks, and its the working at it, the rehearsing over and over again, that gives one that automatic response (in French, automatismes).  

That is what’s fundamental, although some people are, by their nature, abler than others, and for the self-same amount of work as the next fellow, they’ll succeed more readily.  It’s all very well and good to have natural ability, but what really counts, is the strength of mind (solidité mentale), that allows one to guide those gifts, and – I cannot stress that enough – hard work.

My Professors

Apart from Max Bozzoni, the person who has meant the most to me is Noëlla Pontois.  She holds a very great place in my career.  In a manner of speaking, one could say that she took up where M. Bozzoni left off when I joined the POB.  In our work, we understand each other perfectly, and she will find precisely the words, the glance that will get the idea across to me.  Once one is properly acquainted with one another, one can get down to really constructive work.

The répétiteurs are also very important, notably Viviane Descoutures, with whom I often study the solo parts, as well as Laurent Hilaire and Loipa Arroyo, who is Cuban, with whom I prepared Basilio in Quichotte.  Both are remarkably generous people in their work.  She is an extraordinary personality.  .  Loipa’s personality is quite extraordinary, she gives off, she radiates, astounding energy.  She is often invited to teach worldover, because is both a fine professor, and a fine coach.  As for Laurent Hilaire, he is very insightful, very forward-looking, and he is someone who inspires trust.  Like Loira, I consider him that working with him has been a milestone in my career.

When I joined the corps de ballet I was only fifteen, and shy as anything.  Noëlla Pontois had noticed me during the classes, and I went over and asked her to give me private lessons.  Things just took up from there !  When I joined the troupe, Noëlla Pontois was a guest artist, and besides teaching, she was still dancing.  At that time, the troupe’s rehearsal schedule was less intense, and so I’d often take two classes one straight after the other.  Noëlla would come to correct me at the barre.  

At the time, the troupe was still a single, rather than double unit as it is now[1].  That meant less performances, while apprentices in their first year had little chance of actually going down onto the stage to perform.  We were last on the list of understudies, which gave us plenty of time to take lessons.  Fifteen years ago, the full troupe was assigned to every production, and the « incumbents » in a role would have to drop stone-cold dead for an apprentice to be called in their stead; under those circumstances, keeping up one’s enthusiasm was not all that obvious !  

The troupe is now divided into two quite distinct groups, and apprentices get to perform from the day they join, which I find a much better arrangement.  It motivates the apprentices, because they know they’ll be on stage at some point during the season, and overall, youngsters get to perform much earlier now.

Gradus ad …

On joining the POB, I won Silver at the Paris Competition (concours de Paris) where Carlos Acosta won Gold.  On the strength of that, I was asked to represent France at the Eurovision contest, where I won Gold.  As a reward, Patrick Dupond cast me in the Peasant Pas de Deux in Giselle.  For a Quadrille[2], that was quite a privilege, and left little room for error.  My older colleagues were watching me like a hawk !  One might add that the Bart-Polyakov version of the Peasant Pas de Deux is amongst the very hardest, with its two variations, and it was a tremendous challenge.

So it was that my career got off to a flying start.  At the first internal promotion Concours, I was appointed Coryphée, and then at the second, Sujet when I was 17.  From my standpoint, it was critical to step up the first two rungs on the corps de ballet ladder, because, at the end of the day though, one is better off biding one’s time as a Sujet than as a Quadrille or Coryphée, where it’s far harder to get up and go for it, when was knows perfectly well that one is constantly going to be an understudy, and will get to perform only if someone else be taken ill.

On Music

What is music to the dance ?  Of the essence.  Dancing is to use one’s body to play the music.  Unless one have a sense of music, one cannot dance well.  Even when one dances to silence, one must hear an inner music.  Music and the dance are one.  I have studied both music and solfege, although I had to stop working intensely on that to devote myself to the dance, but I’ve continued to take an interest in music, to read scores, and many of my friends are musicians.  When I’ve got a big role to work on, invariably, I’ll read the score.  For Rubies [Balanchine, Jewels – editor’s note] for example, I wrote down onto the score every detail of the choreography.  Yes, it was a deal of bother, but then when one’s gone down onto the stage, one takes one’s cues from the instruments, and one is literally carried by the music.  

The more one loves and understands music, the better one can use the body to communicate with the music.  A variation will be suitably danced only if one respect the music, and of course, the rhythm.  

In terms of ballet music, I must say that I favour Chaikovsky, his Swan Lake, and the violin solo in the Sleeping Beauty.  Chaikovsky wrote some splendid music, and although I do like Prokofiev as well, my preference goes to Chaikovsky.  One of the reasons I’m so partial to Balanchine and Robbins is that both were musicians, and would dare to set ballets to major works that others wouldn’t touch.  

Meeting Jerome Robbins was a significant moment in my life.  One had the feeling that a genius stood there before one.  In rehearsal, though he was harsh in the extreme, I found him very moving nevertheless.  It was Robbins who set me down to dance the Faun in his Four Seasons, for which I remain most grateful, for that was the role, in which I first became known to the public.

Rêveries

Would I attempt to choreograph ?  I can’t say that I’ve a penchant for it.  I feel that I can interpret, but not create choreography.  Whether the reason be a certain reserve on my part, I couldn’t say, but I don’t see myself in that branch of the trade.  But there are dancers like Jean-Guillaume Bart who have been doing some very lovely things as choreographers.  Classical dance has quite a future before it !

As for the roles that I’d like to dance, what might they be ?  Beyond a doubt, James.  And Siegfried in Swan Lake, not because it’s such a fascinating role as such, but because I’m so keen on the music.  And one day I think I’d like to dance Albrecht.  Amongst the roles that I’ve already danced, those that have meant the most to me have been Le spectre de la rose, Puck in Neumeier’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, Rubies, the Bronze Idol, and of course Basilio in Don Quichotte.

The latter was my first major role in a Three Act ballet, and we’d prepared it thoroughly with Laurent Hilaire and Loipa Arroyo.  That gave one considerable assurance, to go down onto the stage, while such a role is a most stimulating challenge, a real joy for me.  

When I’m performing, I like to hear the views of those who know me well, Noëlla, and the people who rehearsed with me.  After Don Quichotte, I went to speak with Laurent Hilaire, who’d taken us through the full process of rehearsal, because his comments were so meaningful.  It’s important, because when one is dancing in a long Three Act piece, one has got to have the humility to see that it could not possibly have been flawless straight through.  At the end of the day, what matters, is to speak to one’s public, the people on stage and the people in the hall be on the same wavelength.  An artist must establish a dialogue with his public, because the purpose of the whole thing is not to dance for oneself off in a bell-jar somewhere.

What about the future ?  Well, wouldn’t someone like to choreograph to opera music, such as Il Trovatore ?  I’d love to dance in something like that, because there is music in Bellini and Verdi, that would be perfect for the ballet.  

I’d also like other opportunities to work with Pierre Lacotte.  He’s very impassioned, his outlook is always positive and forward-looking, but he’s demanding.  What he’s been doing, reconstructing those old ballets, is really quite fabulous.  I’d also like to work with Jirí Kylián, who’s not only a great choreographer, but an exceptional human being.  He’s human, vastly talented, and his creations are fascinating.  I’ve never yet worked with him myself, but those who have all say that it was something wonderful to experience.

Interviewed October 29th 2004

© Emmanuel Thibault – Dansomanie.

English translation by Katarina Kanter