HER DANCING was sublime, her celebrated autobiography a spellbinding glimpse into the creative process.
Tall, angelically beautiful and sumptuous in movement, Balanchine ballerina and muse Suzanne Farrell danced with an almost palpable intelligence, setting a deliciously high standard at New York City Ballet.
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IN A SUNLIT dance studio, a pianist plays a flurry of arpeggios. Men and women sitting on metal folding chairs slowly bend and stretch.
One man’s hands tremble; a woman’s legs remain rigidly bent. As one woman moves her hands, her feet involuntarily go along. These dance students have Parkinson’s disease.
“This is the grave of my son, Andrew Isaac McCormick,” says his father, Alex. “None of us … knew him.”
The play – opening off-Broadway in New York City this summer – takes on the divide between Mormon family loyalty and the faith’s belief that homosexuality offends God.
