Master of the Dance

Off the quiet main street of Pittsfield, Russian ballet master Andrei Bossov choreographs new works, directs full-scale professional ballet productions, and trains ballet students in the precise, demanding, powerful form of this well-established classical art. Here, overlooking the green of the Maine Central Institute, in a large room with a wall of mirrors, a wooden barre, a tin ceiling and a balcony, and a large stage now packed with props, he instructs a small class of dancers from places like Alabama, Australia, Maine, and New York. They follow Bossov’s every move, from head to fingertip.

In just the last decade in this small town of 4,000, Bossov has taught thousands of ballet students from all over the country and the world. In 1996, in a most unlikely alliance with a retired Marine colonel, Bossov became artistic director of the Bossov Ballet Theatre. In a world in which longevity and tradition are paramount, the school has already established a strong national reputation for excellence, with his students now performing in companies like the American Ballet Theatre, Ballet Met, and the Joffrey Ballet.

Born and raised in St. Petersburg, Russia, Bossov was trained at the St. Petersburg Academic Ballet School (Vaganova Academy), considered the best ballet school in the world. In addition to being the founder and director of the Chamber Kirov Ballet in St. Petersburg, he was also a premier dancer and soloist of the world-renowned Kirov Ballet for 18 years, performing worldwide, dancing with the likes of Mikhail Baryshnikov.

Early in their lives, dancers, unlike other artists, must face a shift in their instrument’s ability to sustain the rigorous, daily regimen of their work, and must determine how best to continue in their field. For decades Bossov had been choreographing and teaching. And at the time of his retirement, he was in the United States and decided to stay when an opportunity to teach in Maine opened up.

But he returns to St. Petersburg four times a year, to see friends and family—including his wife, an actress, the recent recipient of the Russian equivalent of a Tony Award. Every other year he returns with some of his students to take master classes and experience his dance home, the extraordinary Mariinsky Theatre, established in 1860.

In addition to the 25 new ballets Bossov has choreographed in recent years—including The Red Shoes, A Few Ballroom Dances, Litany—he has created new choreography for established works like Peter and the Wolf and collaborated on projects with choral societies and orchestras. He also creates works for individual students as they audition for advanced educational programs or dance companies. And he dances every day.

You’ve danced in many countries all over the world with the Kirov. How did you end up in Maine, teaching and choreographing?

I was in America touring with the company when it was time for my retirement. A friend from New York commented to me on this state as a very good place to be. I flew to Maine. I liked it very much. That was before I knew I’d come to absolute desert for ballet. Because Maine and ballet are two different things. But tell me right now, do you want to go to New York? No, never. I really like this place. I’m doing something here. It can be done. I’m making real changes.

The Sleeping Beauty premiered in 1890 in the same theater where you danced. Few companies now perform the full ballet, but you continue to do that, even here. Why?

Because it’s one of the best ever classical ballets made. This is incredible training for the students. Choreography material is very difficult, very interesting to dance. Unfortunately, yes, it’s very long. So even good companies they try to cut the music. Before, people come to a full evening—performance, dinner, relaxation, conversation. People are in a hurry now to go to train, to go to metro, to go home to sleep.

What makes a great dancer?

First of all, she or he has to be gifted by God. Second is how workaholic you are. It’s not for sissies. Not for lazy people. Third one, very strong will to become a dancer. There are too many obstacles.

What are the challenges for a female ballet student?

The weight, and the competition. The competition is just incredible in ballet between girls. To get in a company is very difficult—very, very difficult.

What about guys?

It is a terrible situation. In all of America. Boys don’t go into ballet. It is very strange. Not strange. It’s understandable, of course, by American culture. But it’s a pity. It’s a very powerful art. Especially for a man. It takes enormous physical strength to achieve anything on the stage for a male dancer.

What a ballet dancer’s body can do seems to the normal person beyond possibility—the height, the extensions. So what’s the typical day of a dancer?

You wake up in the morning after an evening performance exhausted. Classes start 11 o’clock, 10 o’clock the earliest. You go to the class. It’s obligatory for everybody to keep in shape your body. If you miss three days of class, you are already not in shape. After this you have a little break for just drinking some water, then rehearsal. Three o’clock you have lunch. Then you have evening rehearsals or performance.

What are your strongest memories as a young dancer?

We start to dance very early, 9, 10 years old. We have a little box on the stage especially for dancers to see the performances. It was the very, very front of the stage. It was teeny, teeny box, kind of a cave. That is my first memory. When you see ballet in the close range, you see how hard it is. It was impossible to hide the enormous amount of forces you have to put in the dance.

Was dance a part of your family culture?

No, not at all. My father was a navy officer and my mother was working on rail stations. I take one year [of dance class] and the teacher at the studio said to my parents, “This boy has to go to Vaganova School.”

The school you attended is known as one of the very best in the world. What makes a school be one of the best in the world?

Tradition. Very simple. Tradition. Ballet is an art which is [taught] by hands—from one hand to another hand, from one body to another body. It’s very simple. It’s impossible to learn ballet by the book. You have to dance yourself.

And so the choreography—many of these ballets were choreographed over a hundred years ago—is passed on in what I would think of as an oral storytelling tradition.

Absolutely right. It’s the same.

When you choreograph a work, where do you start?

I start from the idea—could be the story, could be just emotional. Otherwise, I hear the beautiful music and so I start to think about what I can make from this. But I have to see a picture. If I have the picture in my head, I can do it. Like a movie.

[Bossov Ballet executive director] Michael Wyly said the first time he saw a ballet he was transported. What makes that happen?

If it’s a good piece, if it’s the right time, if your soul is open—it’s going to catch you and it can reduce your pain.

Discipline is a must in ballet and in the military. Is there a difference?

In the military they discipline by command. In ballet dancers understand it is an inner discipline, they cannot do what we ask without it, and they will use it in their future lives, whatever the lives. They know that.

Does a dancer have a different kind of relationship with his or her body than other people?

Probably yes. Because a dancer should love his or her body. They take care of it very much because we cannot allow injuries to happen. The body is our instrument. It is our money.

Now your world is primarily teaching and choreographing. Do you miss dancing yourself?

Of course, yes, because it’s an addiction. But the body says things. There comes a time when the physical condition won’t allow. We must listen. But there is always more.

More?

Always. Yes. Of course. It’s inspiration. It’s not coming from me. It’s coming from something else.