Nice Plié, Now Drop and Give Me 10

By GIA KOURLAS
Published: March 13, 2009

ETHAN STIEFEL is revered for his electrifying presence at American Ballet Theater, where he has been a principal dancer since 1997. In less ballet-centric circles around the country he may be better known as Cooper Nielson, the choreographer-dancer character from Nicholas Hytner’s 2000 film “Center Stage.” But in Winston-Salem, where he presides over the school of dance at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts, he is known simply as the dean.

As such Mr. Stiefel may be glamorous, but he is no mere figurehead.

“He expects a lot out of us, and he holds us to very high standards, which makes us all do better,” Mac Hopper, a 17-year-old student at the school, said in a telephone interview. “It’s a lot stricter than it used to be, but it’s a good strict. If we forget a combination, we have to do 20 push-ups. It’s like tough love. It’s not that bad. You get used to it. And push-ups definitely help you remember.”

In “Ethan Stiefel and His Students,” presented on Sunday and Monday as part of the Works & Process series at the Guggenheim Museum, the results of that tough love will be on display in a selection of classical variations and contemporary work. The North Carolina school, a public conservatory, grants high school diplomas and undergraduate and graduate degrees. Its dance division has produced many accomplished figures, including Gillian Murphy, who is also a principal at American Ballet Theater and Mr. Stiefel’s companion.

For Mr. Stiefel training is about more than perfecting steps or even transcending the limits of the human body. At the school he has formulated a set of eight initiatives. Inspired by the principles of many martial arts, the list concludes, “We will work toward becoming great dancers, while understanding that being a good person is the true goal.”

But Mr. Stiefel is by no means sappy. In keeping with corrective push-ups and a strictly enforced dress code, he has, in his own words, stressed “the sense of perspective and privilege to participate in this art form.”

Now 36, having had four knee operations in the last two and a half years, he sees the initiatives as a way to reinforce a sense of grit and honor in the consciousness of young dancers. “Pushing my students is not without reason,” he said in a telephone interview last month. “I’m trying to wake up their intellect and intuition as much as the body.”

Throughout his career Mr. Stiefel has worked tirelessly to promote classical ballet to a younger generation, as with his participation in “Center Stage.” (He is also in the sequel, “Center Stage: Turn It Up,” which was released on DVD in January by Sony Pictures.) “Whenever you have a chance to represent your art form in a way that may be seen by more people,” he said, “I see it as an opportunity.”



In 2006 Mr. Stiefel abandoned his efforts to develop Ballet Pacifica, a Southern California company, for financial reasons. His summer training and performance program, Stiefel and Students, held at Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts, is on hiatus. But in many ways all his side projects have led to his position at the School of the Arts, where, despite his title, he fancies himself more an artistic director.

Mr. Stiefel is the third dean of dance at the school, where his predecessors, dating to 1965, were Robert Lindgren and Susan McCullough. But unlike traditional artistic directors Mr. Stiefel is not aligned to a company aesthetic or repertory.

“I’m looking to create the total and complete dancer,” he said. To do so he has instituted formal acting training, mime and music instruction and a men’s training camp, as well as hired teachers like Diego Schoch in the contemporary division and Nigel Burley in ballet.

“I’m personally invested in the male technique,” he said. “How do we offer something different, not to be different but to be progressive? Since we have a campus and outdoor space, sometimes that means running hills or doing obstacle courses and agility drills for cardio and stamina work.”

He has also introduced workshops in musical theater and karate. “A fifth-level black belt came in for two weeks and showed the students a different way of approaching movement,” he said. The experience prompted one student, Cody Hayman, 17, to initiate a Facebook group called “My Dean Can Break Wooden Boards With His Bare Fists, Can Yours?” Along with his students Mr. Stiefel took part in the workshop.

“We thought it was kind of fun that not only is he Ethan Stiefel, but he’s out there doing karate with everyone,” Mr. Hayman said. “We appreciated it. It was a great time, not necessarily a get-to-know-Ethan type of thing, but it was a good bonding experience.”

Asked about the Facebook page Mr. Stiefel reacted with surprise but confessed his prowess.

“Well, I broke a couple of boards in a demonstration,” he said. “It’s about obstacles. You have to keep challenging yourself, and I’m about leading by example. I don’t advocate anyone doing something that will unnecessarily injure them or is unhealthy, but if you just have a hangnail that’s bothering you? This is about letting people know what’s possible. And never giving up.”

Mr. Stiefel admitted that balancing his positions as dancer and dean has been a strain. After he interviewed for the job, he said, he withdrew his name from consideration because he wanted to focus on performing.

“The committee had unanimously decided that I was indeed the right person for the job despite my letter,” he said. “I kid you not, I think I said no seven or eight times.”

John Mauceri, the school’s chancellor, eventually wore him down. “I still had my doubts and reservations,” Mr. Stiefel said, “but I had to go for it.” Since he started at the school in August he has been away from the campus for three weeks, he estimates.

“You catch me at a time where I’m struggling, not just physically but mentally and emotionally,” he said. “But when I see the performances and what the students and faculty have been able to accomplish, it inspires me to keep it going. There wouldn’t be anything else, honestly, that I would be willing to sacrifice something as meaningful as my performing career for than this. So it’s not to say that there aren’t some costs, but I do it willingly.”

He works 12 to 14 hours a day, he said, teaching two classes and continuing his own training, among other things.

“I’m looking at some performances coming up, and I do have great concern,” he added. “People have spoken with me about this, and I suppose the original reason why I withdrew my name from consideration was because I knew this would be inevitable. I don’t know if it’s possible, truly. I really have to make myself do what my students are doing.”

In Mr. Stiefel’s world that adds up to more than long days. “I have to keep that individual discipline going to take class at 8:30 in the morning,” he said. “And everyone would probably agree that at this point in my career that’s a rough hour to get it on.”

Source: NYTimes