Psst! The Cubans Are Coming

By Christopher Porterfield

On a dusty, sweltering afternoon last July, a strikingly handsome young Cuban walked across the bridge from Reynosa, Mexico, into McAllen, Texas, and asked U.S. border agents for political asylum. The first sign that he was no ordinary defector came when the agents ran a computer check on his identity. "All of a sudden," recalls the Cuban, "they were shaking my hand, congratulating me, asking for my autograph." Was he a political dissident? A pop singer? A baseball pitcher? In fact, in his own realm he was an even bigger catch. He was Rolando Sarabia, 23, a star of Cuba's National Ballet, whose spectacular performances have won him a reputation among dance aficionados as another Mikhail Baryshnikov.

A generation ago, during the Soviet era, defectors like Baryshnikov, Rudolf Nureyev and Natalia Makarova were galvanizing the dance world. Russian dancers and the historic tradition they sprang from were the gold standard in international ballet. Today, however, the buzz is all about Latins.

Sarabia is only the latest of a long line of Latin dancers, especially Cubans, who have joined top U.S. and European troupes, infusing them with a new warmth, sensuality and flair--what in Spanish is called chispa, or spark. There have been individual Hispanic stars before, like the great mid-century ballerinas Alicia Alonso of Cuba and Lupe Serrano of Chile. But now rosters from San Francisco to Houston to Cincinnati are studded with Latin names. Roughly half the principal dancers in the Boston and Miami City ballets are Latins. American Ballet Theatre (A.B.T.) features so many that one of its principals says it "should be called Latin Ballet Theatre." Lynn Garafola, a dance historian at Barnard College, summed up the shift in a Dance Magazine article whose headline proclaimed LATIN IS THE NEW RUSSIAN.

The dancers come from all across the Spanish-speaking world: from Argentina, Venezuela, Spain, and, above all, from Cuba, in a contingent that ranges from the veteran Carlos Acosta of the Royal Ballet down to newcomer Sarabia (who is considering a stack of offers while staying in Pompano Beach, Fla., with a former teacher, also a defector). Three other standouts:

o Jose Manuel Carreno, 37, A.B.T. When Carreno decamped from Cuba in 1990, the move was almost unprecedented. "I'm kind of a pioneer," he says. He set a high standard for other expatriates to follow. Identified mostly with princely, heroic roles in "tutu ballets" like La Bayadere and Don Quixote, he won Dance Magazine's 2004 award for contributions to dance, the first Cuban to do so since Alonso in 1958. The citation said, "He thrills audiences with his powerful leaps and glorious pirouettes, and breaks their hearts with his vulnerability."

o Lorena Feijoo, 35, San Francisco Ballet. Feijoo doesn't so much dance her roles as attack them with a torrid, all-out intensity, yet she never loses precision and control. Her fiery virtuosity blazes in such ballets as Giselle and Don Quixote. Unlike Carreno, she left Cuba over the objections of Alonso, who still rules the National Ballet (see box). As a result, Feijoo has not been welcomed back, despite her requests. Alonso, she says, "has never said no, but she has never answered. I never lose the hope."

o Lorna Feijoo, 31, Boston Ballet. Compared with her sister, she has a more lyrical, flowing style, flirting gracefully with the tempos and holding breathtaking balances en pointe in such roles as the dual leads in Swan Lake. Lorna was flourishing as a prima ballerina in Cuba's National Ballet but left anyway, along with her dancer husband Nelson Madrigal, now also a principal in Boston. That time Alonso acquiesced and gave the pair her blessing. "We need to go around the world," says Feijoo. "We need to work with different choreographers, different companies, to learn different styles, because this career is really short and you need to take all the opportunities that you have."

Solid training is a key to the Latin influx. In contrast to the U.S., where training is haphazard except at a few top companies, many Latin countries have excellent ballet schools, often subsidized by the government, where youngsters are put through a rigorous classical regimen. Spain boasts a fine school run by former Maurice Bejart dancer Victor Ullate. Argentina has another, at the century-old Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires. But the most celebrated and influential school in the Latin world is the one attached to Cuba's National Ballet, supported by Castro since 1959 and presided over by the indomitable Alonso.

Schooling accounts for the Latins' superb technique; their culture supplies the rest. A love of movement, says A.B.T. artistic director Kevin McKenzie, "is part of the daily fabric of their lives." Adds A.B.T.'s Julio Bocca, who is from Argentina: "We improvise a lot. Our kind of living is very fresh and spontaneous." And Latins are never shy about injecting a little drama. "We try harder to be actresses in the roles we dance," says Mary Carmen Catoya, a Venezuelan with Miami City Ballet, "to seduce the audience a little more, make our eyes talk a little more, use a little more of our bodies." The Latin men, who didn't grow up with the mystique of machismo for nothing, exert a commanding presence on the stage. They have become even more prominent than their female compatriots. The U.S. hasn't trained enough top-flight male dancers to stock its companies, so there are plenty of openings.

With Cuba's National Ballet and other Latin companies achieving such high quality, why do dancers keep leaving? For one thing, the companies stick mostly to traditional repertory, emphasizing the classic 19th century romantic ballets. Homegrown choreographers are in short supply, and leading international choreographers rarely visit. The dancers are understandably restless and eager to explore more varied and contemporary styles. For another, the U.S. and Europe are still the big leagues, offering more visible (and lucrative) careers and often a freer, more comfortable way of life than are available back home.

Something else is going on as well. Ballet, like other spheres of modern life, is going through a process of globalization. Technology is making ballet performances, training and traditions accessible to people everywhere. But the very factors that have enabled the Latins to move decisively into the mainstream are also setting the stage for their possible eclipse. Keep your eye on the Far East. The A.B.T.'s McKenzie notes that the dance world is already seeing the rise of gifted performers from all over Asia. "It hasn't hit critical mass yet," he says, "but it will." Someday, perhaps, Chinese could be the new Latin.

With reporting by Reported by Kathleen Adams/ New York, Tim Padgett/ Miami