French dancer and teacher Eric Viudès is a former principal dancer with The Norwegian Ballet and the Resident Ballet Master with European School of Ballet in Amsterdam.
As a student in Paris, he knew of August Bournonville from his training at the Conservatoire Supérieur de Musique et de Danse, but later in life moved deep into the heart of the world of Bournonville expertise through his wife Dinna Bjørn.
From 2009-2016, he organised Bournonville in Biarritz and has taught the aspirants as a guest teacher with the Royal Danish Ballet and will be teaching at this year’s summer programme in Copenhagen.
“At the Royal Danish Ballet, I do think there’s a risk that the new generation won’t get the life, the history, and the knowledge they deserve. It depends on leadership. And today, our art form is based on three things: politics, money, and power. Bournonville is not on any of those lists,” he says.
Speaking of Bournonville, he also notes that Bournonville was a student of August Vestris:
“My mentor, Maître Brieux, was well aware of Vestris. His own teacher was Gustave Ricaux, so it’s a parallel line in French ballet.”
ERIC VIUDÈS
– CONVERSATIONS ON BOURNONVILLE #6
Recorded at Store Kirkestræde, Copenhagen, Tuesday, 20th May 2025.
Alexander Meinertz:
So, Eric, the first time I met you, you jokingly said that you had to understand Bournonville to win your wife Dinna Bjørn’s heart, because she is, of course, very closely associated with Bournonville, and her life is dedicated to his work. I found that really funny. I think there must be some truth in it?
Eric Viudès:
First, please let me say thank you, Alexander, for inviting me to have a conversation about Bournonville and ballet today. It’s an honour to be part of the series. But yes, it is true, you cannot be married to Dinna without Bournonville. It’s a threesome!
Alexander Meinertz:
Can you tell us how that personal journey began, starting with your own background as a dancer? Coming from a French ballet background, what were your first impressions of Bournonville’s style and technique? Did it feel alien, familiar, or something in between?
Eric Viudès:
Familiar.
My background is from the south of France, from a family with no connection to ballet. At age 14, I moved to Paris after being admitted to the Le Conservatoire Supérieur de Musique et de Danse to become a ballet dancer. A story not unlike that of the film Billy Elliot, which really touched me. I felt a real connection to the working-class boy from northeast England during the miners’ strikes in ’84–’85, who felt a passion for dance. Compare that with another young boy who also has a passion for dance, but lives next to Covent Garden, or the Royal Danish Ballet, or the Paris Conservatoire, with a supportive family who can afford tuition. For such boys, the personal and artistic journeys are very different.
I regret that, as a professional dancer in the ballet companies I’ve been in, there weren’t, in my time, fundamental values that could unite dancers and reinforce mutual understanding.
Because of that lack of shared artistic values, I still see today dancers from all over the world auditioning everywhere, gambling with their lives and careers. And now, after the pandemic, with even less security. Let’s not forget that Bournonville ensured pensions for his dancers and created jobs for them after the age of 40!
The whole field has been reduced to an economic and ticket-sales perspective. We are living in turbulent times. Because of that ticket-sales mentality, I also see choreographers who are either unable or afraid to use the classical vocabulary.
But with regards to Bournonville, his style didn’t feel alien to me. Being French myself, he was more of a brother. His dance was already related to mine.
Alexander Meinertz:
Was Bournonville part of the curriculum at the Conservatoire?
Eric Viudès:
No, it wasn’t a formal part of the curriculum, but his name was mentioned, yes, and every time you want to do some jumps, people – they also don’t always take it seriously – they say, “Oh, let’s do some Bournonville.” They associate Bournonville with jumps. As a teenager, my favourite dancer was Peter Schaufuss.
Alexander Meinertz:
Did you see any ballets, or was it just the steps or the style?
Eric Viudès:
Only steps. Only steps. Not at a very high level, and I only saw a Bournonville ballet much later, as a professional dancers. I’m not sure if it was in Copenhagen or Oslo, but it must have been La Sylphide. Poul Gnatt, the Danish dancer, had staged dances from Napoli for the Norwegian National Ballet and when I joined that company, that was the first time I got to dance Bournonville. Dinna, of course, later staged La Sylphide in Oslo and became the director of the company.
When I joined the company, Anne Borg was the director and during her time I got the opportunity to dance and portray Vaslav Nijinsky in Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes, a three-act ballet by Swedish choreographer Ulf Gadd. Like Bournonville, Gadd was a storyteller, focused on the theatrical dimension of ballet.
The ballet was a great succes, and after the premiere, Gadd told me to go and ask for my soloist contract. I was shocked, but I did as he said. The next day I knocked on Anne’s door. She was shocked too. We were both shocked! But she promised me the promotion for the following season. Years later, I read in her memoir that Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes was, in her view, the most interesting ballet production during her time at the Norwegian Ballet.
Alexander Meinertz:
So you worked with Poul Gnatt. Not many people today can say they’ve worked with him. Can you talk about that?
Eric Viudès:
Yes. He was the “inspector” at the Norwegian National Ballet and oversaw all the rehearsals on stage. I was only 21, very young, and he kept a close eye on me. He wanted to ensure my performances were solid. He even made sure I stayed silent in the wings and behaved properly! I was later in New Zealand, where he also worked and I became aware of how respected he is there.
Alexander Meinertz:
He’s very recognised. Not long ago, someone contacted me who was working on a book about him. There was even talk of a film, possibly also in New Zealand. So he’s certainly not forgotten, either there or in Norway.
So, the style felt familiar to you, not foreign. Close to what you had worked with at the Conservatoire. But was there a particular moment, or a specific ballet, when Bournonville really clicked for you artistically? When you saw its true depth and value?
Eric Viudès:
My experience as a dancer was outside the Royal Danish Ballet, at the National Ballet in Oslo, which I joined in 1985. But while my dancing was outside Copenhagen, I’ve followed most of the Royal Danish Ballet’s productions for over 30 years.
The Bournonville Festival in 2005 impressed me, it had such an optimistic spirit, restoring the artistic heritage as faithfully as possible, sharing it with audiences, and giving dancers the chance to learn it, understand it, and remember it. That was deeply inspiring. And seeing Bruce Marks so actively involved in the event added to that impact. And I remember enjoying Kermesse in Bruges during the 2005 festival, with Kirsten Simone as Trutje as a highlight. I also loved Lifeguards in Amager, especially Victor Alvarez in the pas de trois.
But some of my best Bournonville experiences actually happened outside Denmark, From Siberia to Moscow in Tbilisi, in Sweden it was Ponte Molle, where the artists symbolically enter Rome across the northern bridge to seek knowledge. At that premiere, Dinna gave me the original Bournonville notation.
It also made a big impression on me to see Dinna’s inspired version of sections of Brudefærden i Hardanger only last year, made for and performed at the new National Museum in Oslo, where the famous painting by Adolph Tidemand og Hans Gude, which inspired Bournonville, is exhibited. Queen Sonja of Norway and Queen Margrethe of Denmark, who was visiting Norway, came to the museum especially to see this ballet!
Alexander Meinertz:
When I spoke to Ulrik Birkkjær, the festivals also came up too. The 1992 festival was a huge inspiration for me. Ulrik, of course, spoke about 2005, since he’s younger, like you. He believes the festivals are essential to preserving the tradition. They energise the perception of the style, sharpen the focus on the heritage, and give it more presence, more time.
Eric Viudès:
Exactly. And they give those who stage the works a chance to refresh and remember, because it’s a living tradition. To teach Bournonville steps, you need to actually do them from time to time. You can’t just revisit them every other year. So I think that moment, giving it to the dancers to learn and remember, was a real gift. Absolutely.
Alexander Meinertz:
How would you describe the Bournonville tradition to an international audience unfamiliar with Danish ballet history? Because when we talk about it, we assume a great deal of background knowledge. That sometimes gives us deeper insight, but it may also mean we miss what’s right in front of us.
Eric Viudès:
Sergiu Stefanschi, a beloved teacher now in Toronto, once told me, “The ballet world is tough, but when you stop dancing, it’s a jungle.” That always stayed with me.
I’d like to describe it using the allegory of Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book. Kipling captured his world so cleverly, conveying ideals about morality and one’s attitude to life, along with deep professional insight, just like Bournonville. In 1907, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. Otherwise, like Bournonville, he might have been judged differently today. But The Jungle Book, especially the animated version, can illustrate the ballet world and the Bournonville legacy. From the Stone Age up to today, people have been seeking enlightenment and knowledge.
In The Jungle Book, Mowgli, a young boy raised by wolves, possesses the knowledge of fire and light, because he’s human. His rival, the tiger, wants to stop him from bringing that knowledge, that fire, back to the village. The king orangutan and the snake also try to steal it from him. With the help of a bear and a panther, are you the panther, Alexander?, Mowgli succeeds and sends the tiger away.
So, I see the Bournonville heritage as a form of special human knowledge that can enlighten dancers and audiences alike.
Alexander Meinertz:
Beautiful, and true. A special human knowledge… You know, when I first went to India, in 2009, I visited the “haveli”, the villa, where Kipling lived while writing The Jungle Book. It’s on the Grand Trunk Road but completely off the tourist circuit, it certainly was then, and it was utterly fascinating. You could feel the book in the atmosphere, in the light and the landscape.
The small villa was perched right on the lake and as we approached, we suddenly heard squeals of joy resonate under the tree crowns, from little boys jumping from the terrace into the water, laughing and shouting. It was a magical moment, as if the story itself had materialised before our eyes. It came back to me just now, in connection with what you said. I’m glad you see it that way.
So in your experience, how could the Bournonville style be taught and transmitted outside of the Royal Danish Ballet’s framework, where you’ve worked?
Eric Viudès:
I actually worked as a guest teacher with the aspirants at the Royal Danish Ballet around the year 2000, over a six-year period. And this year, I’ve been invited for the third consecutive time to teach at the Royal Danish Ballet’s summer programme. But outside the Royal Danish Ballet, as Dinna and I have done, we teach ballet using Bournonville combinations and repertoire to students, teachers, and professional dancers all over the world. Everyone is inspired by Dinna’s patience and passion.
That, in turn, motivates me. They see that I don’t have Bournonville in my blood, and I don’t pretend to. But they also see that I’ve learned it, that I’m doing the work, that I’m curious, asking questions, and practising. I sometimes feel like a cook in a MasterChef competition, challenged by Dinna’s love. That’s what it feels like.
At the Royal Danish Ballet, I do think there’s a risk that the new generation won’t get the life, the history, and the knowledge they deserve. It depends on leadership. And today, our art form is based on three things: politics, money, and power. Bournonville is not on any of those lists.
Bournonville isn’t a political priority. He doesn’t generate profit. And too often, some leaders make decisions based on what benefits them, not the dancers or the company.
But it shouldn’t be solely the ballet director’s responsibility to assess the value of the Bournonville school or its repertoire at the Royal Danish Ballet. That responsibility also lies with the state, with cultural representatives, and with the board. They should be the voice of common sense and reason. In my opinion, they haven’t fulfilled that role.
So now, the challenge is to make space for the old masters, like Bournonville, and those who come after. We must honour the living tradition and believe in it.
Alexander Meinertz:
Especially now, if we look at the dancers in the company today, they’re really not familiar with the technique. As you said, it’s not in their blood, and they don’t get enough time to really learn it.
Eric Viudès:
No, and they can’t revisit it either. It’s not just a matter of learning it and forgetting it, it’s about learning it, coming back to it, seeing it with new eyes, discovering something different each time, or performing it in a new way. Like making a dish, as I’ve said, you need to do it more than once.
The biggest challenge for me, what we’ve just been talking about, is the teacher’s role. How do you start to help a dancer, a student, understand and recognise differences? It’s not just about executing steps.
For me, it begins with musicality. But it also involves the use of the arms, sometimes even intentionally the “wrong” arm, the difference between small and large steps, the épaulement, the use of the corners. It’s not about dancing flat, like Frankenstein. There’s so much to learn with Bournonville.
It’s like learning to cook. You start, you keep going, and you try to do the best you can.
Alexander Meinertz:
Exactly. They can learn the style, but actually, I was just reading something Peter Brandenhoff sent me. It was a review by Alexandra Tomalonis, the American critic, written around 2005. She compared the Bournonville style then to what she’d seen in 1992. Her observation was interesting: she noted how dancers in 1992 had been coached by Henning Kronstam, and some even by Hans Brenaa. Whereas in 2005, it was Frank Andersen’s generation, and Dinna was also involved, but they were doing less Bournonville than in 1992. There was a shorter run-up to the festival.
She saw clear stylistic differences across that time span. So you can imagine now, in 2025, in a company where none of the current dancers were there in 2005, and in fact none of the teachers or stagers, except for Dinna and Anne-Marie Vessel Schlüter, there’s a complete break in the tradition. So how deeply can you really go into it, as a dancer?
Eric Viudès:
Well, I mean, they’ve left some people by the roadside. And everything has a price. Dinna is amazing, she knows every ballet, every part, every role. She knows every piece of music: what comes before, what comes after. It’s extraordinary to have that kind of memory and understanding.
Alexander Meinertz:
She’s back now, working on Kermesse with Rose Gad.
Eric Viudès:
She’s back on Kermesse, yes, I’m looking forward to it. She’s very happy, of course. She staged it once before and now she’s calling it her swan song, but I hope it won’t be!
Alexander Meinertz:
Do you think that Bournonville’s emphasis can still speak to dancers? How do you think they approach it? Because when something has been set aside for so long, it becomes a matter of revival, and perhaps there’s a prejudice that it’s old-fashioned. That prejudice often comes from the dancers themselves. It was certainly a prejudice from Nikolaj Hübbe. Is there a tension with contemporary ballet, or…?
Eric Viudès:
Yes. That’s a very interesting question. Because it leads me to a meeting you may have heard about, “Positioning Ballet” in Toronto, where 34 ballet directors gathered in Canada. They concluded with some beautiful words about igniting a shared passion for the future of ballet. But I felt like exploding, because that’s not the same as saying you respect the roots and the source of classical ballet, the heritage upon which every ballet company is founded.
It’s of course a first step, in words. But we still need to see that respect expressed in the repertoire.
Alexander Meinertz:
You now work primarily in Amsterdam, at the European School of Ballet, directed by Jean-Yves Esquerre. I’ve seen some of the choreography you’ve created for the dancers there, but how do you use Bournonville technique and musicality in your teaching, since you’re not teaching Bournonville per se?
Eric Viudès:
I get inspired by the Bournonville classes. First of all, I choose the steps I like. I don’t choose the ones I don’t like, I let others teach those. I choose the steps I like, and then I ask Dinna to teach them to me.
Then I use the musical element from the exercise as a key building block in my own exercises. One of the choreographic pieces I made to music from Meyerbeers L’Étoile du Nord with two dancers from the Dutch National Ballet was presented at a Cecchetti-Bournonville Gala last summer in Italy, as an example of how to use classical heritage creatively. That piece has also been invited to a festival in Montauban. So it’s a work in progress.
Alexander Meinertz:
Sorry, just to circle back, when I first met you, you spoke about musicality. You said that coming from the outside, when you talk to Danish dancers trained in the Bournonville style, they can’t really explain it. For them, it’s just natural. They just have it. But you’ve had to analyse it in order to understand it.
Eric Viudès:
Exactly. I need to have the musical phrase in order to give meaning to the steps. For example, if I have just one count or half a count to do a ballonné, I understand it’s not meant to be a big ballonné.
So musicality helps me visualise and interpret the steps, which you might not do if you don’t know the counts. You might make everything too big. For me, musical phrasing is essential. I can’t teach a single ballet or variation without knowing the musical structure.
And I’m always surprised that some people don’t miss it. Because then you realise, this phrase is in six, or seven, or nine. And how can you finish your steps in time if you don’t know that the phrase is only a seven? Of course it wasn’t eight, you have to be faster. I’m amazed one can dance a ballet without understanding the phrasing. Just hearing the music isn’t enough.
So yes, I learn the musical phrase first.
Alexander Meinertz:
Yeah. You just mentioned Meyerbeer, L’Étoile du Nord. You created a new choreography, and I saw one of the videos. To me, it was immediately clear that it’s rooted in the spirit of Bournonville.
Not as a pastiche, technically it’s challenging in different ways. But you recognise it. I recognised especially the musicality, the ease, the effortlessness.
Again, the musicality seemed to be the key. Do you consciously work with Bournonville principles in your choreographic language? Because he had a very distinct choreographic aesthetic.
Eric Viudès:
I do, because I use the material. But I don’t do it deliberately. I’m not trying to copy. If someone sees inspiration, then that comes from themselves. You saw it. Jean-Yves Esquerre, the director of ESB, he sees it.
He recently asked me to create a piece for the trainee men. So I made the steps as personal as I could, drawing on my own memory, on how proud I felt as a student at the Conservatoire in Paris. And in a way, just like Bournonville made people feel they could go home and choreograph in the classical language themselves. That’s very true.
For me, musicality is not superior to the step, it’s a reflection or an echo of my heart. That’s why I work on it so deeply and get inspired by Bournonville’s phrasing. That’s just how it is.
Alexander Meinertz:
Many of the dancers I’ve spoken to keep coming back to the musicality. Before I started these conversations, when I spoke with non-dancers, audience members, academics, historians, they focused more on the style. But with dancers, it’s always the musicality. It just keeps coming back.
Eric Viudès:
Especially if you haven’t had Bournonville as your foundation. For me, when I look at a variation, I see four phrases of eight, and then two phrases of six and another eight. That already tells you the some sections of steps are shorter.
If I just say the steps, for instance glissade jeté, glissade cabriole, it’s endless. But suddenly, with the musicality, you see the poetry. It’s no longer a long, monotonous text. You read it differently. And I think Bournonville’s sense of joy, his “happiness”, is in the steps themselves. It’s not just a smile pasted on like a stamp on an envelope.
Alexander Meinertz:
I think that’s probably the truth. From 2009-2016, you organised Bournonville in Biarritz. Can you tell is about that?
Eric Viudès:
Yes. I’m happy to have that question. Bournonville in Biarritz was a historic event for the legacy of August Bournonville, for his disciple Hans Beck, and for the faculty involved, including myself bringing the project to life.
We presented the complete Sixth Class for the first time outside Denmark. That was Frank Andersen’s idea. He had just stepped down as ballet director.
So I introduced him to a local ballet teacher who had known me since I was a child, someone with the heart, ambition, and motivation to take this idea to the mayor. And so, the project began. Every year brought new challenges.
But because I’m from Biarritz, there was no way I was going to give up. I had my dignity, and I was determined to continue and succeed with a project in a city that calls itself the City of Dance. For me, coming home with Bournonville felt like Eva Joly returning to Oslo as an unknown, to organise a legal seminar on social trust. That’s how it felt. I’m serious. And it is serious.
The level had never been so high in a private course in France. I reached out to the most prominent personalities, Claude Bessy, Élisabeth Platel, and they came with grace.
Gilbert Mayer brought the young Pierre-Arthur Raveau as a student, he’s now a premier danseur at the Opéra. Mayer also proposed to give a lecture on August Bournonville’s father, Antoine Bournonville.
As a surprise to everyone, Anna Kisselgoff from New York came in the fourth year and returned again in the final year, presenting a lecture on Bournonville in the United States. Nina Ananiashvili sent three to four of the most talented and promising dancers from Georgia every year.
It was impressive.
Alexander Meinertz:
I’m really interested to hear that you had a conference on Antoine Bournonville.
Eric Viudès:
First of all, I know he came from Lyon. Which is, of course, a very interesting city, the city of Les Lumières and so on. I think August Bournonville learned the French style from his father Antointe. He was trained by his father and at the Paris Opéra.
And through his position in Denmark, he developed a repertory and preserved what was once the pure classical style. Because in France, so much has been influenced by outside trends. Everything that came from outside was considered new or different, a different arm, a different head, a different jump. And that’s why people often say the French style was only preserved in Copenhagen.
Alexander Meinertz:
Yes. It’s interesting, Bournonville’s first trip to Paris was in 1820 with his father. They received a grant to study there. August was 15 at the time. And although they stayed in Paris for three or four months, August trained exclusively with his father. He didn’t study with any of the Parisian teachers. They attended classes, but he didn’t participate.
In his diary, he was only 15, of course, and reflected his father’s views, he was not very impressed with the French teachers. But when he returned alone a few years later, everything changed.
At first, his father wanted him to study with Coulon. But very soon, he transferred to the class of Vestris, and became a true pupil of Vestris. That completely changed his style.
Antoine Bournonville’s training came from the 1770s, 50 years earlier. It was a different era, a different ballet world entirely.
Eric Viudès:
My mentor, Maître Brieux, was well aware of Vestris. His own teacher was Gustave Ricaux, so it’s a parallel line in French ballet.
So of course, I see the similarities. I remember the first time I saw a picture of Vestris, Brieux showed me the neck. Not the feet. The neck. That was the detail he wanted me to notice.
Alexander Meinertz:
So how do you and Dinna collaborate, formally or informally, in interpreting Bournonville today? I think you’ve already touched on it a bit.
Eric Viudès:
I learn everything from Dinna. So I’m not using video, I have Dinna. And I pass the material on in my own way. And I can tell you, she even gets inspired by the way I do things. She says she sees new aspects she hadn’t noticed before.
And it makes me happy when she says she’s learned something from me too. For example, in France, people often say the difference with the Bournonville or Hans Beck schools is that the current French school uses séries, series of steps, but Bournonville doesn’t.
But one day, when I was doing the “Japonaise” variation from the Saturday class, and I realised, it is actually a série.
A series of what? You have to find out, it’s not obvious. But it is a series of temps levés: we begin with temps levés in cou-de-pied moving diagonally derrière; then temps levé in second and third arabesque moving en avant; petit temps levés in à la seconde tracing a circular pattern; and finally, a temps levé, which is not a jump but a relevé in enveloppé to passé after landing in attitude effacé! I wonder how many people have realised that.
As a teacher, it’s worthwhile to tell students: “I’ll show you a variation,” and then let them discover for themselves that they’ve just danced every type of temps levé. That, I think, is interesting.
Alexander Meinertz:
How do you think Bournonville is viewed internationally, today?
Eric Viudès:
Bitchy people say it’s a museum piece, old-fashioned, meaning bad taste. Too difficult, or not challenging enough. That it doesn’t interest anyone. But luckily, some do know how wonderful the material is, and hopefully more and more will discover it.
And there is nothing more uplifting than to see young, talented élèves, ones you already know will make it as dancers, perform the Tarantella from Napoli.
Alexander Meinertz:
Yes. So, what do you think if I ask you the same question, but about Denmark? What are the biggest misconceptions in Denmark?
Eric Viudès:
That I can’t really answer, because I don’t work with the company today. But I will say: modernising the Bournonville ballets is not the right path. It’s better to restore them with the best knowledge, passionate people, and with love.
You don’t build a modernised Notre-Dame just because it burned down. You restore it with the absolute best materials and the best masters.
Alexander Meinertz:
What is Bournonville’s greatest lesson, in your view, not just for dancers, but in a broader sense? You spoke a bit about this earlier. Is it perhaps his morality?
Eric Viudès:
Yes. I think the truth always comes to the surface. And you’re rewarded by goodwill in action. If not on earth, then later on.
Alexander Meinertz:
Do you think that’s a reflection of who he was as a person?
Eric Viudès:
I think the older we get, the more we understand that our time on earth is very short. And everything is about measure and time and weight. You can’t escape that while you’re here. Everything is measurable.
Alexander Meinertz:
I think you’re right. I think one of his problems in his own time, and one of the challenges for his legacy, is that people don’t realise how serious it is. It’s easy to look at Bournonville and dismiss it as a silly story.
But perhaps it’s not even religion per se. Maybe it’s better to call it his spirituality, or his understanding of life, as you say, his view of what it means to be human on this earth.
Eric Viudès:
And yes, probably he did it without expecting anything in return. But Hans Beck, at least, was someone who was inspired. And he did something with that inspiration.
I think we should be grateful for Hans Beck. In the end, he’s the one who truly proved himself inspired by Bournonville. We owe him recognition.
Alexander Meinertz:
So, one last question. Looking ahead, you mentioned earlier the joy of seeing a young dancer. What gives you hope for the future of the Bournonville tradition? Is there hope?
Eric Viudès:
Yes. All my students at the European School of Ballet will bring new life to August Bournonville. They know it’s challenging, and they love that. They will be good ambassadors for Bournonville and for classical ballet. That gives me hope.
Alexander Meinertz:
And what about Kermesse in Bruges? How do you think it will be received? Dinna is working on it now.
Eric Viudès:
I’m not involved at all. But I think Dinna is very happy to be back in the house. And I think people understand that it’s important.
It’s important that she knows the role of every character. That’s something we risk losing. In the future, it won’t just be a matter of getting the steps wrong, or forgetting them, or not knowing the musicality.
It’s that people won’t know the characters. Who will say that one brother was rich, the other poor, one a thief, the other a saint? Who is going to convey that?
We risk ending up with just steps. But Dinna knows those details. I think someone should write a book, a full book on all the characters in Bournonville’s ballets.
Because in a few years, who will know to tell you?
Alexander Meinertz:
It’s a great ballet. I mean, they all are. But now that it’s coming back, I’ve been thinking about it again. Just the way he tells the story, it’s so tight, so complex. It’s masterful.
Eric Viudès:
He’s a master. That’s why we love him. That’s why we’re still inspired by him. That’s why we keep talking about him. We want to say something positive. We want to reflect on his work. He has been a true tool for the art of ballet in many ways.
Alexander Meinertz:
Yes, you’re right. Kermesse in Bruges was inspired by the paintings of the Old Masters, and in fact it’s testament to Bournonville himself as one of the Old Masters of ballet, who truly showed what ballet can be, in detail.