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He is now a man hungry to taste all the artistic pleasures he was denied at home, and some friends feel that he has grabbed for too much, too fast. But the selection of A.B.T. as his first home in the West, a choice made easier by Makarova's powerful desire to have him as a partner, is basically sound. The company, probably the best in the U.S., had repertory roles like Albrecht that Baryshnikov already knew, and could offer him new parts when he was ready. He has insisted on teaming not only with Makarova but also with Gelsey Kirkland, 22, who is both a precocious star and a defector of sorts, from George Balanchine's New York City Ballet. Baryshnikov was surprised to find that a great many more performances are demanded of a star here than in Russia. There he might dance five times in a month; here it is more like five performances a week. He is thriving on the work, "asking for more and more performances because I have begun to enjoy the taste of it. That is about the greatest transformation that has taken place for me. It does not matter who dances at the Kirov; all tickets are sold. Here an artist dances primarily if he sells tickets." It is a correlation that cannot but please almost any artist—especially when he receives an estimated $2,000 per outing.
This clout helps Baryshnikov realize his other thwarted aim from Kirov days—to dance roles drawn from outside the classical repertory. Les Patineurs is one of these, as is Le Jeune Homme et la Mort, which he flew to Paris to learn from Choreographer Petit. In the summer he will add Shadowplay, which Antony Tudor is reworking especially for him. Such innovators as Twyla Tharp and Alvin Ailey are also working on new ballets for him. John Neumeier, director of the Hamburg Opera Ballet, will stage Hamlet for him—probably next winter.
In short, Misha has been placing great burdens on himself. Considering the obvious problems of adjusting to a new country, a new style of life, he probably should not have undertaken his month-long tour of Australia with Makarova last January. He badly sprained a tendon in his ankle while dancing the Don Quixote pas de deux in Sydney. He was able to finish the performance, but fainted after two curtain calls. The accident put him in bed and on crutches for weeks and still causes pain.
Even Baryshnikov admits that he is running on "nervous energy. I am entering my new life, but I am not there yet. Until schedules and organization come, it's all nervous energy." Remi Saunder, a Russian émigré who devotes herself to helping Russian artists resettle in the West, believes that some of this nearly manic activity is inevitable right now. Major performing artists in Russia are treated very well materially but have little training in the use of initiative. Says she: "There you are given food, but not the choice of food." As a man who came West for a choice of choreography, Baryshnikov will need some experience before he learns what is worth doing and what to pass by. Meanwhile, predictably, he tries just about everything.