by Erik Novoa
I don't often talk about the people who have inspired me to dance.
I have seen many people throughout the years that made me say, "I want to do that"....but very few people have made me
feel that if I could dance like them for one night I could feel at peace
with my inner artist.
I have been watching Julio Bocca, principal dancer with American
Ballet Theater, for 20 years. Although I had been going to the ballet with
my family for my entire childhood, I was 13 when I first
saw Julio Bocca perform. He was only 5 years older than
me yet he was one of the most amazing male dancers I had ever seen.
He was able to pirouette (turn) 8-10 times, had some of the most amazing
jumps and was one of the most exciting partners for his ballerinas.
20 years later, he has retired. A
sad day in ballet history. I was fortunate enough to be at his
final performance of Romeo & Juliet last year, his final performance of
Giselle on June 16, and his last performance at American Ballet Theater
on Thursday night, June 24, 2006.
There are things that I saw him do with my eyes that I felt with my
soul...stuff that I could never truly explain, just a feeling. Yet
it was that feeling which made me watch him, and study him, and admire
him...dreaming that if I had my life to do all over again...I'd want to
dance like him for just one night. All I can say is, "thank you".
I got to shake his hand after his final performance...it's part of a
dream come true.
Here is the article that was printed in the New York Times after his
farewell performance, one that I shall never forget:
June 24, 2006
American Ballet Theater's Julio Bocca Dances Like a God, One Last
Time
By
JENNIFER DUNNING
The rafters would have shaken at the
Metropolitan Opera House on Thursday night, if there had been
rafters, when Julio Bocca danced his last performance with
American Ballet Theater, his home for two decades. One of the most
humane and exciting of virtuoso dancers, Mr. Bocca is also one of the
most beloved, and the company and the audience would not let him go.
Curtain call followed curtain call, and no one in the jammed aisles
seemed to want to go home.
The vehicle for his farewell performance was "Manon," choreographed
by Kenneth MacMillan. Its chief virtue was to enable Mr. Bocca and his
ballerina, Alessandra Ferri, to show how much they can do with very
little at this glowing stage in their long careers. It had already been
performed this week by the same cast. Now it was time to say goodbye to
Mr. Bocca, who never fit into the traditional mold of feverish Dionysian
or cool Apollonian ballet superstar. He was just a guy from Argentina
who danced like a god in everything but villainous roles, in which he
was often unconvincing.
Bouquet presenters culled from the theater's administrative staff and
current and past Ballet Theater dancers, including Cynthia Gregory,
walked out onto the stage, wrapping Mr. Bocca tightly in their arms.
Then they each joined the cheering full company behind him. Flowers
pelted him from the packed orchestra and upper balconies. Cameras
flashed, cellphones bobbed up like periscopes, and a little girl waved
her shawl from atop a handy grown-up's shoulders.
Mr. Bocca pantomimed a desperate need, and someone came out from the
wings with a bottle of beer. Suddenly he was hoisted into the air onto
the shoulders of Marcelo Gomes and David Hallberg, two of the company's
younger generation of stars, as showers of glittering confetti erupted.
Then he came out for more bows in front of the Met's golden curtain,
waving exhaustedly, his perspiration-soaked costume and hair plastered
to him. Finally he stripped to his tights and draped himself in an
Argentine flag.
Mr. Bocca will move on to perform with his own Ballet Argentino
company. He will be missed.
