The truth is when I look at you all I see is the white swan. Yes you’re beautiful, fearful, and fragile. Ideal casting. But the black swan? It’s a hard fucking job to dance both.
Really? In four years every time you dance I see you obsessed getting each and every move perfectly right but I never see you lose yourself. Ever! All that discipline for what?
Perfection is not just about control. It’s also about letting go. Surprise yourself so you can surprise the audience. Transcendence! Very few have it in them.
We all know the story. Virginal girl, pure and sweet, trapped in the body of a swan. She desires freedom but only true love can break the spell. Her wish is nearly granted in the form of a prince, but before he can declare his love her lustful twin, the black swan, tricks and seduces him. Devastated the white swan leaps of a cliff killing herself and, in death, finds freedom.
Because everything Beth does comes from within. From some dark impulse. I guess that’s what makes her so thrilling to watch. So dangerous. Even perfect at times, but also so damn destructive.
Thank you, Nina! It’s very nice. It’s very nice, but I knew the white swan wouldn’t be your problem. The real work would be your metamorphosis into her evil twin. I know I saw a flash of her yesterday, so get ready to give me more of that bite.
The final act. Your final dance! You’ve tasted your dream. Touched it! Only to have it crushed. Your heart is broken. Wounded! Your life force fading. The blood drips. The black swan stole your love! There is only one way to end the pain. You’re not fearful, but filled with acceptance! And you look down at Rothbart and then at the Prince. And then yes, and the audience! And then you jump!
You all have had the chance and the privilege to be enchanted, transported, and even sometimes devastated by the performances of this true artist of our company. She’s been a crucial inspiration to my work. A role model to all dancers and even more than that a deeply appreciated presence on our stage. You all know who I’m talking about. Ladies and gentlemen, Beth Macintyre.
If I was only casting the white swan she’d be yours. But I’m not. Maestro, Odile’s Coda please. Now show me your black swan, Nina.
Not so controlled. Seduce us! Not just the prince but the court, but the audience, the entire world. Come on! Your fouettés are like a spider spinning a web. Attack it! Attack it! Come on!
The new production needs a new swan queen. A fresh face to present to the world. But which of you can embody both swans? The white and the black?
