Allegra Kent’s scintillating autobiography, Once a Dancer…, begins with these prescient words: “As a child, I knew I had one great possession: my body. It was little and quick. I lived within it.” -This month, Kent, who danced with the New York City Ballet for more than 30 years, celebrates a couple of milestones. The first is the reissue of her memoir, charming and juicy by turns; the second occurs on Monday 9, when Kent is presented with a Dance Magazine Award. In the program, held at Florence Gould Hall, Janie Taylor of NYCB will perform Kent’s original part in “The Unanswered Question,” in which a ballerina is held aloft, her feet never touching the floor. Interviewing Kent is a little like trying to catch a butterfly without a net. Her ballerina days aren’t exactly over; now she dances with words.
For the Dance Magazine ceremony, you requested that Janie Taylor perform “The Unanswered Question” from Ivesiana. Why did you want her?
Well, she’s done it and she’s beautiful. It’s a piece we don’t get to see that often, but it’s also the first piece that Mr. Balanchine did for me. Ivesiana was so unusual, part of his kind of stories about that figure: the unattainable or metaphysical figure. Or, also, totally physical figure.
But what do you admire about Taylor?
She is almost of another world herself, which great ballet dancers are.
What first drew you to her?
Her imagination, her musicality and individuality. Individual peculiarity. That’s what also drew Balanchine to everyone—their individual qualities—and then he’d create a story or a movement or a dance. Or no story. [Laughs]
Can you take me back to—
1954? Of course! How do you want to travel? By chariot? Apollo’s chariot? Well, I was so new in the company and so hopeful, of course. And then, suddenly, there was my name for this dance on the bulletin board. I thought it was going to be jumping, but it wasn’t. Who was in the company? Maria Tallchief. Tanaquil Le Clercq. Melissa Hayden. They were all great individual ballerinas to watch. And also they would come running back and say, “Your eyes are too round!” “Not enough rouge!” [Laughs] They were all very involved with the company and that was wonderful—the input. Not just from the top, from everyone.
Tell me about the rehearsals.
The music! Oh, the music. No one had really heard that. Ives just wasn’t played. Balanchine discovered music and it wasn’t like there were CDs around; he would just play musical scores. He was so informed about what was happening.
So you’re in the rehearsal for Ivesiana—
“Take your shoes off and climb on the barre.” [Happily] Oh, just let me climb on the barre! I climbed mountains in Ojai Valley [California]. I’ll climb anything in front of me. Well, not the subway. [Laughs]
So you climbed on the barre?
Yeah. In the corner. And then got on the boy’s shoulders. Nobody had any idea; [Balanchine] didn’t give a description. “Step on the boy’s back and straighten up and let go. And when you hear the trumpet, that’s your cue.” I was so thrilled that I had Mr. B’s vote of confidence. That, psychologically? Oh my gosh. Because I basically came from nowhere. I wasn’t brought up anywhere. [Pauses] I was the original understudy for Agon. I like being the original understudy. It has a certain ring to it. At that time, no one had done anything like it. People still refer to [Agon] in their choreography. Not directly, but it expanded ideas of choreography.
Which principal part did you understudy?
Both. But I eventually did Diana Adams’s role. More quickly than I thought. Diana was fragile. She’d be out. Well, dancers are fragile. You have to go see them the minute you discover them. Dancers are also generous. When you get on stage and give a performance, that is generosity.
When you’re an understudy—
You’re in the back of the room where you can really think and watch. And also not have a certain amount of tension; although it’s good to be in the front of the room too. It’s good to be in the room. [Laughs]
What did you observe back there?
Maybe sometimes how I’d change something to suit myself more. Or be inspired by what I saw but always with an idea because you have to put everything on your own body a little bit. Like this poncho you’re wearing. Which is fantastic. Get me my crochet hook! [Laughs] I also crochet, but I don’t have time. We mustn’t go off on crocheting too much, but I made this. [She pulls a blue hat out of her bag.] I don’t have that much time.
You were also famously in Seven Deadly Sins, which paired you with the singer Lotte Leyna.
Oh, I love to sin.
What’s your favorite sin?
My gosh. They’re all so much fun. Maybe sloth is not as much fun, but lust is fun. Changing the costumes was fun. Diving through aluminum foil. Eddie Bigalow would catch me—always. [Laughs]
Do you remember much about it?
I do. But they tried to revive it and they waited too long. Well, Balanchine wanted to revive it, but there were always problems because Lenya wasn’t available; then, Barbra Streisand; then, Bette Midler; then, a union strike. I remember gluttony so well: A scale and an ice cream cone and a back walkover, which I didn’t know how to do. I needed more acrobatic training, but my mother didn’t believe in tap, toe and acrobatic. Those were the schools in those days! But my mother chose really good teachers for me: Carmelita Maracci. Nijinska.
What is a snapshot memory of Nijinska?
Oh! Black pajamas only! In class, she didn’t wear a [Felia] Doubrovska dress. No. There we would go across the room—furious, demonic energy! And she would run over to the pianist and make them do it right when they had the wrong tempo. After class, she was very, very loving. No chewing gum. The other day I was teaching at Barnard and I said to a girl, “Are you chewing gum?” and she said, “No, I’m eating an apple!” I said, “What? Is it green or red?” I didn’t know what to say. No eating apples. No chewing gum. This is an old Russian principle. Not just that. It’s an always principle. But she didn’t know.
Did Nijinska encourage you?
Yeah. And that was wonderful to be encouraged by a teacher. It’s inexplicable why I’m winning this award, but I’m delighted. I got into the ballet company and I watched and watched. I listened. I hadn’t heard any of that music before. I didn’t grow up with classical music; we grew up with the radio. We were a one nutcracker family. And I mean [She cracks a nut with an invisible crank] that kind of nutcracker.