Interview: Zenaida Yanowsky, Coach and Former Principal Dancer, The Royal Ballet
Robbie Fairchilds, Christopher Wheeldon, Zenaida Yanowsky in rehearsal for Christopher Wheeldon’s The Two of Us. Photo by Andrej Uspenski/RBO
For many years, Spanish dancer Zenaida Yanowsky was one of the most beloved principals of London’s The Royal Ballet. A dancer of great individuality, she captivated audiences in roles ranging from Odette/Odile and Manon to contemporary repertoire and an unforgettable The Queen of Hearts in Christopher Wheeldon’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. She now coaches at The Royal Ballet and many other international companies. She has also coached contemporary variations by Christopher Wheeldon at the Prix de Lausanne. TWoA talked to Zenaida about making the transition from dancing to coaching, her experience of coaching at the Prix de Lausanne and much more. If you want to learn about the importance of speaking up (politely), directing the audience’s eye like a magician, and the wisdom of the words “not everything that shines is gold,” read on!
When did you start coaching?
I started about a year after I retired. I think it was always in me. It was always something I knew I wanted to do. As a dancer, I never wanted to blur the line. Studio dynamics are quite complicated. I also really can't multitask. I can only do one thing. But the whole transition came quite quickly, probably quicker than I expected. I wanted to give myself a good three, four years, and I didn't have that. One of the reasons why retirement was so important for me was that I wanted to spend a little bit more time with my kids, that quality time that I had never given them. It felt right not to spoil the thing I felt very strongly about, and so I took on work, but not that much. I paced it nicely, so I still had lots of time to get bored.
I found the first month of retirement, you think it’s haven. But three months on, you're trying to find other things to make you really busy at home, probably your kids’ stuff. You think: “I'm super involved, I'm working hard with them.” And then you start thinking: “Now what?” I started doing bits and bobs, just starting slow. It was quite a good call for me. Also, I am ambitious with a very small “a.” I’m ambitious, that’s for sure. But I'm quite measured with my ambition in the sense that I would never do anything that I don't feel 100% ready for. Well, maybe, 85% ready, and then I can just do that extra step, that challenge. I'm not one of those people who can take on something, you know, “just because.” So, I think the way it happened was great for me.
What was the most challenging part about starting to coach?
Managing people and people's expectations of themselves, managing the dynamics in the room. I have a very positive disposition by nature, but I'm quite intense in what I need to see before the rehearsal finishes. In one respect, I was probably in a good place, because I immediately gave a good energy in the studio. But managing people's expectations of their own work in the room before we even started working felt fairly new to me. That's a learning curve.
Is there a coach in your own dance history who was very influential and who inspired the way you approach coaching?
Both my parents. My dad is a choreographer, and my mom is a dancer. Both have a contemporary background. My mom was a phenomenal coach. My dad, as a choreographer, when we worked together, his expectation of what he needed was so immediate. You couldn't just go: “Just give me a day. Let me work this out.” I learned to find the bravery to be able to say to a choreographer: “Just give me a day or give me half an hour to work it out. I'm just a little bit slower, maybe, than what you're expecting, but just give me a little bit of time, and I'll try my best. And if it doesn't work, then let's change it.” But it took time for me to find that bravery.
My mom was a phenomenal contemporary and neo-classical dancer. She was extremely influential in her coaching. I can see a lot of her in my coaching: there is a lot of metaphorical work, a lot of visualization, which I think is not for everybody. A lot of it has to do with coloring, dynamics, interpretation, with the quality of the movement. What kind of movement, in what section of that movement do you want to keep the dynamic, or do you want to add a color? It's very, very specific. My mom opened that window. That's what, in my opinion, made me a stronger, more individual dancer. I'm trying really hard as a coach to bring this to the table, so that as a dancer, you start trusting your instincts a little bit more. Even if it’s not the right color in the end, we can work from there, instead of me having to spoon feed - I find that a little bit frustrating. Give me something, and then I know what you're trying to do, and we can work to achieve the effect you want.
What do you mean with “color”?
It's like an actor with words: the word is always the same, but it's how you say it. The size and color make it different and make it a tool towards what you want to create, what you want to say. It has to have layers. In classics like The Sleeping Beauty, when we take away the layers, we are only left with something which is pretty, young and pink. It becomes quite shallow. When you see a great ballerina, what I love are the layers. You're not aware of the layers, but it’s the coloring and the dynamic of the movement. That's when a dancer is a great dancer.
How do you use visualization to build an interpretation of a role?
For example, in Manon, when she steps out of the carriage, I say: “Have a look at Paris. Don't just arrive on stage. Just look at this incredible, busy place. You've never been there, you see a city working, the dust, the people, the costumes. Very much like one would do nowadays, when you go into a city like Tokyo that is culturally very different. It’s that naivety of absorbing a different culture. Little things like that make your role richer, because you are visualizing from the beginning where you are. Once you've opened the frame, then suddenly you zoom into yourself, and then you start dancing. It has to inform your own movement and your own role, and it has to come from that place first, before you come into your own coloring.
Yesterday I had a rehearsal of Christopher Wheeldon’s Ballet to Broadway evening at The Royal Ballet. I was telling the male dancer: it's not about the narrative; the movement has to have a journey, how you want to color that movement is the thing that is going to impact us. You're going to highlight where we are going to look. Is it the hand or the neck or the whole body? One thing I always tell students when I work at The Royal Ballet School: you are empowered to direct the audience's eyes much more than you think. You are the boss of their eyes, you need to know how to manage that. It's all about the frame. Do you open your frame? Do you close the frame? It's all about detail, nuances and the dynamic. If you don't want us to see your feet or your footwork, if you want to disguise something, you have to do something else, to captivate us in a way so that you just don't allow our eyesight to go down. You have a whole body to do that. Like magicians disguising a trick.
Let’s talk about your experience of coaching the female variation from Christopher Wheeldon’s The Two of Us (“You Turn Me On, I’m a Radio”) at the Prix de Lausanne, one of the most important ballet competitions. Like all the classes and coaching sessions, your session was live streamed as well. What are the special challenges of coaching in this setting?
The challenge is time. They give you a maximum of ten minutes. Normally, it's a group session. You have to really spot the things that you feel could help a particular dancer. But often, I try to give them the right sense of the piece because often, that's the thing that is lacking. The steps are usually fine, and the youngsters have been rehearsing that piece for maybe months, so it would be very, very hard to change the steps last minute. I try not to do that unless it's very different. Maybe all I want is a different sensation, keeping the same step, because changing it would throw them off enormously, that wouldn’t be fair. The way I try to coach for the Prix de Lausanne is much more about the right vibe, about giving a little bit of detail. It’s also about giving them a little bit of an experience of coaching by somebody who has actually worked with the choreographer, or who has danced the piece.
You recently coached the whole piece The Two of Us at The Royal Ballet. Did your coaching experience at the Prix de Lausanne influence your approach of coaching the seasoned professionals?
It has certainly informed my coaching enormously for many reasons. Youngsters always surprise you. I don't know them. The first time I see them is when they are dancing that solo. That’s when I get an idea of what kind of dancer they are, what their approach is. I have to be slightly more selective with the sort of notes that I'm going to give. In that sense, it's helped me.
I love that there is an age where people are unafraid. Especially if you go to a competition. I think you have to be made for that kind of thing. You have to have the right temperament. I love seeing the youngsters’ approach to that piece. I love what they bring to the table, how they are very different. It's really opened my mind. Initially, I only had the video with New York City Ballet Principal Sarah Mearns, my own vision of what I would have done with the same steps, and the information Chris Wheeldon gave me. I thought: “Okay, I think I've got a good idea.” And then you see the youngsters, and they blow you away. They all come with their differences and beauty. They are so individual, they're unafraid of showing that. I love that.
Coaches Robbie Fairchilds and Zenaida Yanowsky in rehearsal for Christopher Wheeldon’s The Two of Us. . Photo by Andrej Uspenski/RBO
Looking back, what advice would you like to give to your student self in the final years of your training?
You can – you should share your opinion, as long as you do it in a respectful way. I was too shy, too quiet. I never shared anything. I wish I had been able to speak out a little bit more; always in a respectful way, because otherwise it is not useful for anyone. It’s a question of personality. I just wasn't like that. I still find it hard, but you have to try to work on yourself as much as you are working on your career.
The other day, I heard someone say: “Success? You don't look for success. You attract success because of who you are.” That’s a very good message to pass on, because pursuing success often sends the wrong message. You might do things that are not that ethical or respectful, or that are contrary to your personality. I certainly didn't do either. I was very much aware of my faults. I think every youngster, everybody, every artist will probably say the same. But I would speak out a bit more, so people can help you.
Some young dancers train at prestigious, big company schools like The Royal Ballet School or the Paris Opera Ballet School. Others train at smaller, less known places. What advice do you have for students making the transition to company life?
I came from a small school in the middle of nowhere. I'm always very prone to help the ones who are doing that transition, which they all find really hard. It’s a crash course on how a company works. The graduates of company schools are at an advantage, because they not only know how it works, but they also work with the company in advance. They are ahead of the game. Also, when you come from a smaller school, some dance as a hobby, some really want to achieve a career in dance. You are mixed with people who don't take it as seriously but are more grounded because of that. And suddenly you're in an institution where everybody's driven and you have to play the social game. You have to learn how that works. You can't walk in with your chest up, thinking: “I'm the business!” Very soon, you'll be put down, which is probably quite a good thing. It’s a learning curve.
I always try to help the ones who don't understand how the system works, because I came from the same place. My advice: not everything that shines is gold. Very often at that age, you think there is “shine” and ”not shine.” It's very black and white. There's no gray area. I would say: what do you have to lose? Just keep going and try your best. Like a horse in a race wearing blinders: just find your goal and try to achieve it. Success in life is not always raising to the top, but just succeeding in the personal goals that you put in front of yourself. Succeeding in dance doesn’t always mean being a principal in a major company.
I value not only every stage in life I have passed through. I value enormously other people's journeys and stages, because everybody, everybody has something to give and everybody is important. You might start in dancing and then move on into a lateral job. But the fact that that person has the dance knowledge is incredible. Often, those things are not valued enough, especially when we are growing up in the dance world. Not everybody has to make it in the dance world, because we also need many other people around to run the huge boat that the dance world is, including administrators, creatives. A pioneer in the dance world doesn't have to be someone who dances really well. As a matter of fact, dancing is the easy path because you just follow the set trajectory. Lateral thinking is difficult. One should promote lateral thinking more and make sure that there is no fear in thinking laterally. You can do something else and have dance in your periphery.