Swan Dive: The Making of a Rogue Ballerina
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4.3 • 3 Ratings
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- $12.99
Publisher Description
In this enthralling memoir Georgina Pazcoguin - the first Asian American woman to be promoted to lead soloist with the New York City Ballet - blows the lid off the ballet industry to reveal the petty dramas, wild nights, beauty, ugliness, and occasional mayhem behind the wings, as well as the emotional highs and lows that come with devoting one’s life – and body - to such physically demanding art.
At a time at which the company of which she’s a member has been rocked by scandal - including the loss of famed ballet director Peter Martens, ousted after a blistering, anonymous letter detailed his abuse to the New York Times – Swan Dive dusts off old stereotypes, challenging the racism and exploitation that pervades dance companies the world over. It also addresses the tired narrative of ballerinas as uptight, untouchable perfectionists (with occasional eating disorders), to more accurately portray the wild sisterhood of artists, friends, and sometimes frenemies, who play just as hard as they work.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Pazcoguin, New York City Ballet's first Asian American soloist, reveals the grimy underbelly of elite stagecraft and the extreme passions that fuel it in this rollicking debut. She affectionately recounts her 1980s childhood in Pennsylvania, where she started dancing at age four. ("I didn't know what I was doing, but... I wanted to move this way all the time," she recounts.) At age 13, Pazcoguin attended the School of American Ballet in New York, where she thrived under the grueling regimen but felt battered by racism and body shaming, including one instance in which the artistic director said "you don't really fit in from here... to there," pointing to her thighs. She also exposes the truth about ballet's sequins and tulle: costumes go unwashed for years, and the glittering snow in The Nutcracker (which she calls the "NUTBUSTER" because it's such a grind) is swept up and dumped right back onto dancers' heads the next night. Pazcoguin's humorous asides entertain, though at times they can undermine the abuse she endured. ("I've felt the pain... I've even farted onstage and survived.") While the juicy details of beautiful people behaving badly are beguiling, it's Pazcoguin's unsparing criticism of the industry that begs an encore. This is potent stuff.
