In 1989 I met Anders Nordström at Jacob’s Pillow where we were students at a Balanchine workshop. His technique was dazzling, though he would say “Oh no, there are other people in the company who are much better.” (Anders’ modesty rivals his talent.)

Aside from his duties with the Royal Swedish Ballet, he has also performed with the company's touring ensemble, Stockholm 59° North.

When this ensemble debuted at Jacob’s Pillow in 1997, I was treated to a performance, among others, of Mats Ek’s Grass where Anders, and partner Anna Valev (who I also had the pleasure of meeting back in 1989), gave a wonderfully charismatic performance.

The Royal Swedish Ballet toured to the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C., in June of 1999, where I had a chance to talk to Anders about his career and what interests him as an artist.

How long have you been with the Royal Swedish Ballet?
Since 1986.

And then you had a leave of absence to dance at Ballet Hamburg?
Yes, from 1991 to 1994.

In your career, was there a first ‘big role’ for you that made you feel like you were moving up through the ranks? Or that was just important to you, personally?
In the ranks, no. It never concerned me because I've always known where I wanted to go.

However there was one role which was important to me: Lensky in Eugene Onegin by Cranko. But not just because of the role but also because of the one who taught us the ballet.

I don’t think I have the same destiny as Lensky, but I could relate to his character and that helped me feel stronger about portraying the part.

And Ann Williams, who taught the ballet, wasn’t always talking about technique. And there’s a lot of technique for the role of Lensky, but she was talking about the smell of the trees in the springtime and how it brings out the joy and happiness here or the sadness there. She put images with parts of the ballet and wasn’t talking about technique and fifth position and all this…

So you danced. And even if you didn’t get all the technical steps —[he smiles]which of course you did— you felt good because you still had the sense of what she had talked about and the reasons why you were dancing.

Many times you have people who can do a perfect fifth and stretch the foot, but how many can give you the smell of the dance [Anders gestures at the imaginary trees and breathes in deeply through the nostrils].

What were some other roles that were important for you?
Important for me…. well everything’s important. You learn from this, you take something from that, some things you re-do. I’m in a state at the moment where I feel I should try something totally new, different from what I’ve been doing, in order to go further.

The King of Bavaria, in Swan Lake —that’s the prince’s role in John Neumeier’s version at Hamburg Ballet— there, you are on stage for three hours. You’re on for the whole ballet, you never go off. There are several pas de deux, like five or six, and variations…as compared to a normal Swan Lake where you would dance 25 minutes. Maybe you’re on for half an hour. That’s it. In four acts. And here you’re on the whole time.

It’s very complex. It’s like MacMillan’s Mayerling, also very complex. You have five different partners, seven different pas de deux, variations one after another. And you’re on stage, more or less, the whole time.

But being on stage the whole time is much better than standing in the wings, waiting for it to come, like a horse in the starting gate. You can get into it more and know why you’re dancing a certain variation. It’s not just to show off.

Are there abstract roles that you’ve also enjoyed?
Yes, I like modern works. We have works by Mats Ek. His basis is classical, but to the audience’s eye I don’t think it looks it. Forsythe is also very classical. And fun. And there are some in Sweden that I’m close to but that no one knows yet. But I think they will become very good choreographers.

And to create a role together with a choreographer, that’s just as enjoyable as the story ballets I mentioned earlier. John Neumeier has things, too, where even if they’re abstract, you can make a story for yourself.

Dancing is also like theater in that it happens now. Not later, not before. It happens now. It’s very intuitive. Theater that isn’t intuitive, that’s not real, that’s not honest, that’s not good theater. And the same with dance. It must be the same way. When it’s really good, it happens now, for you in the audience, too. You don’t want to see something that’s been rehearsed to death. That’s not really what touches you or what gives you goose bumps.

I think that’s the magic: when an artist makes something happen now and it can be modern or classical, abstract or telling a story.

What kinds of qualities do you look for in a partner for pas de deux work?
Depends on what kind of pas de deux. Certainly partners depend on the piece and the choreographer. But when you talk about classical, I wouldn’t mind a light one. [he laughs.]

But seriously, lightness —as a quality— is nice. And someone who is fun to work with. You discover each other and you have a good time. That’s the most important. And someone who has trust. That’s the best way to put it. She’s not trying to do everything herself, the two of you are trying to do it together. Then you can do anything. I think that’s what a good partnership is built on.

It’s easy to say “You don’t understand why I don’t trust you.” I don’t always trust, either. You’re always grabbing yourself and trying to keep your own balance. If a partner takes my hand lightly, and pulls in her stomach, I can feel that, and I know where she is. I just know. But if she is pressing my hand, it’s like putting the center there, between two people. I don’t want to feel that. I want to feel her center over where she is. Then I can move all of her, like on a ball bearing. There is a give and take.

It is like a relationship. I used to say “It’s like a relationship, but just the bad parts.” [he laughs] You have arguments like you’re in a relationship, so you work things out, but you never get further, to the good stuff.

Well, on stage, when it’s really going well, that’s probably as close as it gets.
Yes, that's the best.

What kinds of things would you still like to see happen in your career?
More creative ballets. And to create ballets with the choreographer. Because then you get more out of it.

The dancers you see these days are really great. The technique is amazing. It’s like skateboarding. Kids today are doing unbelieveable things. When we were young we could only dream about such things. Even the professionals back then probably could not do these tricks. It’s the same in ballet.

Some of it has to do with the floors. Look at gymnastics, where they have special floors. They’re doing three or four rotations. Before they did only one, maximum two. Two was great. Sure they’ve gotten better, but partly because the floor got better. There’s a rebound. You can jump. You can do entre chat dix, triple cabrioles like nothing. Not only because you can get up, but because you can land.

Yes, that’s where you save yourself from getting injured.
Yes, that’s when you know you’re getting old! And what one realizes more and more is that people are forgetting about illusion. You don’t need to jump that high. You need to make it look like it’s that high. It’s in the phrasing: small preparation, BIG jump. If you do a big preparation and a big jump, it just looks the same. The illusion happens when one is small and the other big.

Another example is when people say someone was hanging in the air. Maybe they jumped really high. But if you stop all your movements, stop the arms in position for that one instant. It looks like you’re hanging in the air, but you’re still coming down. Illusion. Hocus Pocus.

And how you do things with taste; people are forgetting. I know I’m talking like the old people who talked to me when I was young. But it’s true.

And showmanship. It’s like what goes on at the circus. You’re walking along a tightrope and you don’t make it so you jump down and shout “Hey!” and pretend that was the show. And then you do it again, only better and then that becomes the trick.

There’s so much to learn…

Learn more about the Royal Swedish Ballet at their Web site.

Learn more about Stockholm 59° North at their Web site.

Photographs: top, Royal Swedish Ballet; middle and bottom, Mats Bäcker