by Vivia Săndulescu
A few years elapsed from our last interview – enough for a change of viewpoint in retrospect. What do you think was more important in your career: school, college or practicing at the theatre? I'm asking this considering the common perception according to which most of the dancers' professional formation is achieved only after graduation. I believe that each stage in my life was a step up. I wish I had been more knowledgeable in school and in college. Indeed, though, formation proper depends on the people you meet after finishing school. In my case, it began after college, when I felt really liberated, and what I had learned up till then could be put into practice. When you were 20, you oscillated between classical and contemporary. For one year you were even hired by the newly-created Orion Balet Bucharest Company, then managed by Ioan Tugearu, and you seemed to have opted for contemporary dance. Do you still have dilemmas would you still give up classical dance? A real dancer can do them all. At present, any theater with a predominantly classical repertoire requires from its dancers the highest availability for contemporary dance as well. Is your present career a burden, predestination, or an option? From the moment you become a prime soloist, and played the first part as prima ballerina, responsibility becomes immense. Sometimes, having done a few good things becomes a burden, because no one will ever forgive any mistake you make. After having proved you can do something good, you can't afford any oscillation. As for options, mine was to be better with every performance, to go beyond my limits, to reach the highest standards. With Mihai Babuşka, you have been known for years as Pygmalion and Galatea. How is it to extend home your life on stage? I wouldn't like to talk about this extension to the private area. As for our professional experience, I believe it was a success for both of us for, if at the beginning he was the one who guided my career and was the motor of this duo, now, when I reached an acknowledged professional maturity, I'm trying to help him. Mihai needs my help, and I am offering him all I can… With Cinderella, Mihai Babuşka proved once again to be a very gifted choreographer. Working with him, you probably contribute to the creative process, aside from recording and communicating things as his assistant. I inspire him rather participate in the creation proper. Generally, when he begins to create, Mihai has in mind a certain person, a certain body, a certain artistic intelligence, and I believe this person is I (see how modest I am?!)… The fate of mature ballerinas is sometimes to "raise" young partners. This is the case of Ovidiu Matei Iancu, with whom, I noticed, you have an almost maternal relation, full of delicacy: you don't try to outshine him, but help him grow up. It is all natural to me, for this is how others did with me. He is a very talented kid, very intelligent, professionally speaking, who quickly grasps all the requirements – both mine and Mihai Babuşka's, the person he works with and who is actually forming him. I don't think my duty is to show I'm the greatest ballet star, because after all we are a duo on stage, and neither of us must intentionally overshadow the other. What was the most flattering remark for your interpretation? I remember a scene that impressed me: M-me Mayer, maître de ballet at the Paris Opera and the possible future director of its ballet school, who spent a few days in Bucharest, invited by the Floria Capsali Choreography High School, attended one of your Swan Lake rehearsals directed by Mihai Babuşka, in which your partner was Ovidiu Iancu, who was about to make his debut as Siegfried. Her emotional reaction was so strong that she burst into tears while watching you. It was incredible that such a great personality as M-me Mayer should react so strongly at a simple rehearsal. Occasionally someone asks me, "Are you aware of the status you've reached?", and I reply, "What status?", for I never think I've reached so far that there is nothing beyond it. My critical spirit won't let me see what's good and beautiful in me. I cannot look upon myself with love from outside, but only with exigency, down to the minutest details. I see all my mistakes and I cannot enjoy the moment. This is not always a good thing: even when you bow for the applause, and the audience smile at you because you offered them an exquisite show, you stand before them, bow, but keep thinking of what went wrong. This is how I was educated by my parents, never to be content with myself, and this is what Mihai instilled in me too. What role did good fortune play in your career? Do you consider yourself lucky? I believe in destiny. I believe one gets in life what is in store for him. Lucky? A little. I had a few lucky encounters, but what I accomplished was by myself, and good luck never played an important part. I cannot say I had so many and extraordinary chances to consider myself lucky. Maybe it's the same critical spirit – it's never enough… Do you regret that, had you been born elsewhere or at another time, you might have achieved more? I refer to the regret of those who could have left the country, but chose to stay. Maybe, but what I failed to achieve was through my fault. However, it so happens that, in the end, things work out well. My fate was to stay in the country, and I was never offered a real chance to settle somewhere else for good. I like it the way it is now, employed by a theater that is getting better all the time, and having the possibility to be invited all around the world. In fact, I travel a lot, I am often invited to dance abroad. You made a few very successful attempts as a choreographer, well received by the audience. Do you plan to dedicate more time to creation sometime in the future, or are you rather attracted to pedagogy? Frankly, I'm more attracted to pedagogy. I like to develop people, to see how they discover themselves, how I discover them, how, from an indefinite human stuff, I shape an artist, as I would make a painting or a sculpture.
by Vivia Săndulescu
by Vivia Săndulescu