Dance: A New Sunbeam, Traveling Fast

At 16, Darci Kistler is on point

There are no subtleties in Darci Kistler’s success story: she is a little girl’s fantasy come to life. At 16 she has been given major roles by George Balanchine, the greatest living choreographer. New York City Ballet audiences, normally a reserved and sophisticated lot, cheer her on to three or four bows. Alexandra Danilova, a former prima ballerina, says that Darci has “a perfume in her dancing that makes you think, ‘How beautiful.’ ”

She is a typical Balanchine dancer: lithe, leggy, fair-haired. She moves with the speed and clarity he demands. She seems to know instinctively what many talented dancers need years to learn: how to engage an audience. Even in a difficult role where rough edges show, she takes obvious pleasure in being onstage dancing. Her joy leaps right over the footlights and lets the audience share in her zest.

That, of course, is what show biz calls star quality. Darci’s precocious fame is not without precedent: at City Ballet, Patricia McBride, Suzanne Farrell and Gelsey Kirkland all came to prominence at about her age. Still the clamor for Darci has surprised the company—which promotes its repertory rather than its stars—and Balanchine. He has forbidden interviews with her. Darci’s career is only a few months old, yet her parents are already beset by promoters who are seeking endorsements. That’s how fast a new sunbeam travels.

Darci took on her first major parts in Europe last summer while the company was on tour. In the current New York season, she appears in Bizet’s Symphony in C, Raymonda Variations, Valse Fantaisie, Walpurgisnacht and Tchaikovsky Suite No. 3. Of these, the lyrical adagio in the Bizet is the most difficult, demanding regal presence and an enigmatic, almost witchy sexiness. But Darci is a very young princess, and the other quality is still beyond her. Nor did it help when, on the second night, a bodice seam split down to the waist. Darci went right on with the aplomb that is already her signature, swimming happily through the ballet’s subaqueous rhythms, and looking like what she is, a California girl transfigured.

Within City Ballet, Darci Kistler has been watched closely since her first school workshop performance. During rehearsals for her final student appearance in Swan Lake last May, she had a hip injury, but danced “full out” the whole time. Says a friend: “She covered the pain for two hours every afternoon. It was sheer determination.” Says Irina Kosmovska, who began teaching Darci in California when she was eleven: “Darci was a fountain of energy. She tried everything. She was one of my most intense students—she would commit suicide on the floor.”

Darci’s grit—required of dedicated ballet dancers—showed up early. Her father is a successful Riverside, Calif., doctor, her mother a former French teacher. Her four big brothers were all wrestling champions. Just to keep pace, recalls a friend, “she had to be one tough little girl.” The family supported her ambitions, driving her regularly to a studio two hours away in Beverly Hills. Three years ago, about the time that the decision to go to New York had to be made, her mother took her to a high school football game and told her, “Darci, you are going to miss all this.” Replied Darci: “What’s there to miss?”

Once in New York she learned with astounding speed. Her adagio in Bizet’s Symphony in C becomes more fluent each time she is onstage. Unquestionably she is helped not only by Balanchine but by a younger mentor, her partner Sean Lavery, who is all of 24. Before, Lavery was an elegant dancer and a dutiful partner. Working with Darci has made him an ardent and vigilant one. He talks to her as they perform. If he finds signs of developing nerves like a stiffening body or a tendency to move off the beat, he will mutter, “It’s O.K.” or “Better hurry up.” Says Lavery: “I am struck by the way she can cover space and by her nonstop energy. She doesn’t know when to rest.”

Older hands see other qualities. Says Character Dancer Shaun O’Brien, 50: “I like her innate grand manner. I think she will grow up to be one of the wonderful, impressive ballerinas—like the great old girls, only without being bulky.” David Howard, a teacher who has worked with Darci and many other top dancers, has a ballet master’s unblinking eye. Says he: “She has good legs, good training and inborn strength. She is a little wide in the shoulders. She will have to learn to camouflage it and create a softer illusion.” He questions whether Darci is climbing too fast: “There is not enough patience today. Many dancers burn out. If they look physically as if they can do it, they are given too much to do.”

It is hard to think of Darci slowing her pace. She often works from 10 in the morning until midnight (class, rehearsals, performance) and then forgets to pick up her paycheck. In her apartment near Lincoln Center, her only companion is her cockatoo Lulu, though her parents and brothers visit.

Their trust in Balanchine amounts to blind faith.

Says Dr. Kistler: “He watches so that there is no injury to her.” In addition to pictures of Mr. B and Peter Martins, her living room shows off her precious collection of unicorns, the legendary beast that is associated with purity. But lately Darci has a new interest; she now likes images of swans.

By Martha Duffy. Reported by Nancy Newman/New York and Martha Smilgis/Los Angeles