Refined zest: only the second African American principal in New York City Ballet history, Albert Evans brings an extra dedication to his coolly contained dancing

Dance Magazine, Nov, 1998 by Marilyn Hunt

Every time New York City Ballet principal Albert Evans comes onstage, he makes a strong impression--by subtle means. Call it refined zest. He gives off an easy, unimpeded flow of energy that comes from the center and radiates out through his supple torso and limbs. But his energy is controlled, never flung away. And there's no wasted motion. This authority onstage was clear from his first appearance in the School of American Ballet's 1987 workshop performances. In the elegant role of Phlegmatic in Balanchine's The Four Temperaments, he already had a relaxed, suave cool, a look of inevitability, linked to his immersion in the music. Phlegmatic is a role he continues to cherish and delve into more deeply, and he was excited about being chosen to work with the role's originator, Todd Bolender, in coaching sessions videotaped for the Balanchine Foundation's Interpreters Archive.

The twenty-nine-year-old Evans may appear cool onstage, but he is anything but reserved about dancing. Being chosen by visiting choreographers for their commissioned ballets, as he regularly is, delights him. And thanks to his versatility, musicality, and quick learning ability, the feeling is clearly mutual. In the 1997 Diamond Project, the company's recurring festival of new works, he was cast in Robert La Fosse's neoclassical Concerto in Five Movements; Kevin O'Day's funky take on classical technique, Open Strings; and Christopher d'Amboise's surprising and mysterious Circle of Fifths. Particularly memorable were his imperturbable saunter and the slinky blues duet with Stacey Calvert in the O'Day, and his enigmatic, gestural power and gravity in the d'Amboise (its pas de deux with Wendy Whelan suggested two strong force fields interacting).

D'Amboise says, "I don't think I've ever seen a better mover than Albert. I went through a lot to make sure that I got [him, along with Whelan and Peter Boal]. Everybody wanted them, and they were in lots of other things. I wanted Albert because I had some movements that were unusual and required both a fluidity and good diction in dance, so to speak--being able to choose what you're going to highlight in a phrase. I tell him once, and he's got it. So that was a thrill! He's really extraordinary."

"I love what I'm doing here," Evans says. "There is no other company like New York City Ballet. There really isn't. The Balanchine style is what intrigues me the most. What he wanted and how he felt, how ballet should continue through life after [his] leaving [when he died in 1983]. That's what I get from being here, because our generation never knew him; we never worked with him." Evans feels a personal rapport with Balanchine that comes through the ballets. In a 1989 interview, he told me, "It's very hard, just joining, with so many people telling you, `Balanchine wanted this, Balanchine wanted that.' So you have to kind of do it as yourself and [imagine] Balanchine saying to you that he likes you doing it this way--as if you're a Balanchine dancer when Balanchine was there. But it's hard." ["Dancing on Hope Street," Dance Magazine, December 1989, page 40.]

So far, his Balanchine roles tend to be the more modem or off-beat ones: Symphony in Three Movements, where, straight out of school, he showed his authoritative stage presence in the central Balinese-style duet; A Midsummer Night's Dream (his Puck has not only a well-developed sense of mischief but an airy dignity as he circles the stage in space-eating jumps); Agon; Union Jack; Kammermusik No. 2; and Stravinsky Violin Concerto (he's in the ginchy, acrobatic pas de deux).

Although he is enthusiastic about what he does and where he is doing it, he'd like to expand his work in the company. He would very much like to be dancing more of Balanchine's classical ballets. "That's what I'm trained as--a classical dancer," he points out. "That's why I'm here, to be a classical ballet dancer. I do have some that I do"--he mentions Symphony in C--"but for me right now it's not enough."

And he would like to be dancing more in general. Two or three years go by between the festivals where he is in such demand. He's in some ballets by company director Peter Martins, but few by the late Jerome Robbins. He especially loves Robbins's 1953 classic, Afternoon of a Faun, which he has performed just twice. "I love dancing the pieces of his that I do," Evans says, "but I would love to dance more, definitely." He had hoped to have the opportunity of working directly with the company's senior choreographer.

Watching him teach a variations class for SAB boys provided an unusual opportunity to see Evans's dancing in detail, to see his classical technique and placement as clearly as in a slow-motion film. The class also shows his astuteness and generosity in analyzing and sharing the way steps are done and how they are presented to the audience. The 5610 being taught was the principal's classical-bravura one from Balanchine's Stars and Stripes. He demonstrates fully this role that he has never danced for NYCB--arms, steps, classical style--with such ease and panache that you want to get up and join in. He's wearing sneakers, but ones so flexible that he can point his feet as meticulously as he does onstage.