Interview with Amanda Beck and Laurence Korsenti
After working with the school for 24 and 13 years respectively, teachers Amanda Beck and Laurence Korsenti said farewell to the Dutch National Ballet Academy last July. They’ve both devoted more than thirty years to Dutch dance education, for which we’re incredibly grateful. We asked them how they look back on all those years, what they’ve learned about teaching, how the profession has developed and what they’ll miss most. Amanda says, “To me, becoming a teacher felt like falling in love again.” And Laurence says, “Seeing the pleasure on a child’s face if something works is beyond price.”
It is, they say, an odd sensation. They’re back at their familiar workplace to attend the opening of the new school building by Queen Máxima, but they have no jobs to do. They can simply bask in all the festivities. “That feels really strange. You see how busy all your colleagues are and you can’t help thinking, ‘shouldn’t we be doing something and lending a hand?’”
They have, they realise, really embarked on a new stage of life. The first remarkable thing is that they can travel outside school holidays and have only just got back – at the beginning of October – to the Netherlands, tanned and rested. Amanda says, “You really need to kick the habit. I came home from holiday and somewhere in my body I felt that excitement of the start of the new academic year. But then you realise, ‘oh no, I don’t have to go any more’.” Laurence says, “What I noticed most was that you’re surrounded by older people, by pensioners, when you go on holiday in September. And then it dawns on you even more that you’re really going to miss working with children and young students.” Amanda agrees, “Yes, they keep you up to date. They have things to say and challenge you.” “Yes”, says Laurence, “thanks to them you stay with it.” She laughs, “Now I’m alone with my husband and that’s really nice too. But it’s different.”
‘That’s it!’
Neither of them had preconceived plans for becoming a teacher while they were dancing. Amanda danced with Dutch National Ballet from 1979 to 1990, where she became a soloist. “I was 32 when I stopped. I’d already danced lots of nice roles and I was expecting my second child. So you take stock. I wanted to be at home more for my kids and, combined with Rudi van Dantzig’s departure as artistic director, it made me realise, ‘that’s it!’ At the time, I’d no idea what I wanted to do next, but a year after my son was born I just rolled into the teaching profession, as it were. More and more often I was asked to give classes, at the Henny Jurriëns Studio, for example, and with the company Opus One and at ArtEZ in Arnhem.”
Laurence stopped more or less at the same time, when she was thirty, following a career with The Israel Ballet, Scapino Ballet, Ballett Frankfurt and Scottish Ballet, respectively, ending up as a principal dancer. “My boyfriend, who’s now my husband, couldn’t find a job in Scotland after graduating, and as I no longer wanted a long-distance relationship I stopped and returned to the Netherlands with him. I thought that maybe I could coach dancers sometime in the future, but actually I saw myself more as physiotherapist.” Once back in the Netherlands, she occasionally did classes at Artemis in Amsterdam (a forerunner of the Henny Jurriëns Studio – ed.) and one of the teachers there, the Bulgarian ex-ballerina Kalina Bogoeva, said, ‘You ought to become a teacher!’ Laurence says, “She obviously saw something in me and thought I should pass on my knowledge, and I thought, ‘why not?’”
Rewarding
Laurence did a series of teaching seminars with Bogoeva and started giving classes at Artemis and Reflex, among other places. “At the seminars, I already discovered how incredibly interested I was in getting back to basics. As a dancer, you know exactly how to do everything, but how did you learn all that? And when do you learn what, and why? I became fascinated with the question of how to put together a good class, and with the physicality of the profession. Because not only do you give verbal instructions, but by touching a child with just two fingers, so to speak, you can change his or her whole position or pose and make a world of difference. And then seeing the pleasure on a child’s face if something suddenly works. That’s beyond price!”
Amanda says, “It’s such an extremely rewarding profession. For me, it felt like falling in love all over again. In a different way to falling in love with my husband – but still! When you’re on stage yourself, you’re also continually focused on your job and I enjoyed that enormously over the years. But as a teacher, you approach the profession from a totally different angle and I’d never expected to find it so fantastic.”
‘A kind of miracle’
Laurence soon got the opportunity to assist Marie-Josette Aerts in teaching at the Dutch National Ballet Academy, which she says got the ball rolling. She was invited to teach classical ballet on three other dance courses at the Amsterdam University of the Arts. That was until she got a permanent position on the dance course at the Royal Conservatoire The Hague, where she worked for nineteen years. And it was one of her colleagues in The Hague, Christopher Powney, who asked her to switch to Amsterdam, after he was appointed artistic director of the Dutch National Ballet Academy in 2010. “That was a tough decision – even though I’d lived in Amsterdam since returning from Scotland – and I thought long and hard about it. My heart was in The Hague, but I also realised that a turning point was imminent in dance education in the Netherlands. The Dutch National Ballet Academy was set to become the country’s leading classical school, and seeing as classical ballet was my forte, I thought, ‘go – it’s now or never!’”
In 2000, Amanda was asked by Francis Sinceretti, one of Powney’s predecessors, to cover for an absent teacher, and soon afterwards she got her own classes for the first time. “Then I also started taking Peter Silkin’s Vaganova course and became acquainted with the fantastic building blocks of the Vaganova syllabus, which was used at the time. For me, that was a revelation; a kind of miracle. You simply saw that the theory worked. You watched the kids improve by leaps and bounds, through working on something with them meticulously for a few weeks. And the joy they exude then is absolutely priceless. Then you’re as happy as a child yourself.”
Laurence says, “Yes, that’s always been the magic of this profession for me, too: helping kids improve and making things happen. And yes, you have a teaching method for that, but I’ve always used it mainly as a guideline. Although I’m very methodical by nature, I thought it was more important to look carefully at the child in question. What does he or she need, and what will help him or her improve?” Amanda adds, “And how do you keep the feeling of ‘dance’ in it as well? So that it’s not just about technique. Dance is a means of communication and a way of expressing yourself, and however young the pupils are, they must be given that scope.”
And they both see it as ‘enormous’ luck that they were able to give classes to so many different levels and age groups. Laurence says, “That’s so important for getting a complete picture, as a teacher. What’s needed at which age in order to eventually achieve a certain result on completing the training?”
Person of flesh and blood
And in all those years, and with all those groups, what’s the main thing they’ve learnt? Amanda says, “It might sound very obvious, but for me it was to be myself. I was very insecure at the start, still had an incredible amount to learn, and I wanted to do everything very, very well. Then it’s quite difficult to really be yourself, and it’s something I’ve had to learn along the way. If I’m enjoying myself, then that should be apparent, but if I’m having an off day then it’s also okay for the pupils and students to notice that, although it shouldn’t bother them, of course. Whether you’re standing in front of teenagers or young kids, I think that first and foremost you should always be a person of flesh and blood.”
Laurence says, “It’s very important that they get to know the person behind the teacher. Of course you’re the ballet teacher, who’s strict and makes demands on them, but they also need to know there’s another side to you. They have to realise that when you keep banging on about this or that, and are always insisting on extreme discipline, it’s not necessarily because that’s who you are, but because you want them to make progress and to achieve what they want to achieve. And I also think that as a teacher you often want far too much in the beginning. The more experience you gain, the better you know what you can push and what you should leave alone for the time being. That balance between as much as possible, but not too much, is very important.” Amanda says, “Someone once said to me, ‘you need to watch out that you don’t work harder than your pupils’.” Laurence adds, “And that’s really tricky for ballet teachers, who’ve given their all themselves throughout their dancing career.” She laughs, “But yes indeed: you shouldn’t be more motivated than your pupils.”
British and French
The fact that one of them (Amanda) is British and the other (Laurence) French doesn’t make much difference in how they look at their profession, they say. Laurence says, “At the Dutch National Ballet Academy we don’t keep strictly to one particular school. We’ve developed a syllabus together that’s based on the Vaganova method, but incorporates elements from the English, French and Italian schools as well. So no, I don’t think we take different views of the profession, but we do probably differ in our sensitivities and sometimes maybe in our preferences. For instance, I’m very partial to petit batterie, speed and pas de bourrées; so much so in fact that my pupils made a whole ‘pas de bourrée ballet’ for my leaving do. In the end, it probably comes down - ‘tous simplement’ - to the way you are. Grisha (teacher Grigori Tchitcherine – ed.) is very Russian in his approach and Nathalie (Caris) is very Canadian. And I think that’s a good thing. Going back to what we said earlier, everyone needs to be themself and do what they’re best at. That’s the best way to pass on your knowledge.” Amanda says, “The fact that we’re all from different backgrounds is a plus, because we all contribute our own specialism. And we’re a really close team, with great mutual respect. We listen to one another and ask each other’s advice.” Laurence agrees, “Absolutely! When I started working here, I was a bit insecure, seeing as I’m not out-and-out Vaganova. But that insecurity soon turned out to be unnecessary, and nowadays I can say that Grisha’s had a great influence on me, but I’ve influenced him as well.”
Amanda says, “What’s typically British about me?” She laughs, “You should ask other people that. But what I can say is that in my years at The Royal Ballet School I had a fantastic teacher, Maryon Lane, a former principal with The Royal Ballet, and I absolutely loved her! She taught us how to be expansive, or in other words how to occupy your space both physically and mentally. And I still think that’s very important. When I teach, I want to see everyone in my class – both literally and figuratively.”
The bigger picture
During the directorship of Christopher Powney – who left again in 2014 to become director of The Royal Ballet School – Amanda was appointed coordinator of NBA 1 – 4 and, on the retirement of Fred Berlips in 2019, of the whole preliminary course. “That last step, in particular, was a difficult decision for me, because from then on I didn’t have my own class any more. And you do build up a more intimate relationship with your own class than with a class you just teach now and then. But to my surprise I found coordinating, and all the tasks associated with it, incredibly enjoyable and challenging. I had to learn lots of new things, ranging from making contacts outside the academy to honing my computer skills, and I regularly caught myself doing things and thinking, ‘wow, I never expected to be able to do that!’ However, there were also tasks I didn’t enjoy as much, like breaking bad news, and that really got to me. So I needed a bit of time to master that sort of thing and build up confidence in it. But in the end I’m really happy I’ve been able to contribute to the further professionalisation of the Dutch National Ballet Academy. In particular, I hugely enjoyed the latter years, working alongside Ernst Meisner (who took over as artistic director in 2018 – ed.). Ernst is very generous and an extremely nice person to work for and with. But for that matter, all my colleagues were important to me: the teachers, the pianists and the whole organisation. You’re a team, and that team is the beating heart.” Laurence adds, “It defines the atmosphere, and that atmosphere is crucial for the quality of the education.”
Laurence, too, is happy that she was able to look beyond ‘the walls of her studio’ for several years, as a member of the programme committee of the Academy of Theatre and Dance (ATD). “In that period, I learned so many things that we often know nothing about in our ‘NBA bubble’. Instead of just being focused on ‘ballet problems’, suddenly you’re concerned with topics like depression, psychological support, language courses, fine-tuning the exam regulations, the stock of ice packs and the installation of new kitchen equipment. I found that extremely interesting. Although you do know you’re part of the ADT, all of a sudden you get the bigger picture, so you also understand much better why sometimes things aren’t possible.”
Baby out with the bathwater
The most important changes they’ve witnessed in ballet education over the past years, they say, relate mainly to social developments. Laurence says, “You see, for instance, that ballet education has become less hierarchical, just like education in general. And then especially for the older students, who are considerably more empowered than we used to be. The parents, too, want much more explanation and closer involvement. That’s good, in principle, although there are also things that only our artistic team can understand and judge. In addition, as in society as a whole, there is of course a much greater focus on diversity and inclusion.”
Amanda says, “It’s good that the school, led by Ernst and Dario, pays great attention to these types of development. But at the same time, my wish for the future is that we don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater. Classical ballet is so incredibly precious, and we must cherish it. Nowadays, there’s a lot of talk about ballet being elitist and not for everyone, but please, I hope we can get over ourselves and realise that it’s a wonderful art form that, like so many other art disciplines, can offer so much beauty – and its existence is therefore justified and essential. Also in relation to that, I’m very concerned about recent political shifts, which are creating a sentiment in society that ballet, and art in general, isn’t important. I think that’s a very dangerous road to go down.”
Laurence says, “Ballet is just like classical music or Rembrandt, which can’t just be replaced by experimental pop or Kandinsky. They can both exist alongside one another. Of course, they both influence each other; everything comes out of what went before. But I hope that the pure classical dance that enchanted us as young children will continue to exist.”
Indescribable luxury
Amanda (67) has relinquished her position due to reaching retirement age. Laurence (63) is stopping in order to spend more time with her husband, who retired at the beginning of this year. They’re both ready to stop, although they hope to be able to stand in regularly for colleagues who are ill, or in other emergencies. Laurence says, “I was already dancing professionally when I was sixteen, and I’ve given my all to dance in the years since then. I’ve been through my share of changes and now it’s time for a new generation to take over.” Amanda says, “It was really nice to stop at the same time as Laurence. In meetings over the past year, we’ve sometimes whispered to each other, ‘Ha ha, soon we won’t have to do that any more!’ But at the same time, when Ernst was talking one day about a fun new project for this season, I got a big lump in my throat, because I realised I wouldn’t be involved in it.”
When asked what they’ll miss most, neither of them hesitate for a second. “The children. The students. The colleagues.” And besides them, certainly the music. Laurence says, “Musicality was always the common thread for me.” Amanda agrees, “The collaboration with the pianists is so important. You can’t separate their contribution from what you do as a teacher, and over all these years I’ve had the chance to work with such fantastic pianists. That gives such support and such a wonderful lift to all you do.”
Laurence says, “And not just as a teacher, but also as a person. The fact that you’re surrounded by live music every day is such a luxury. I realised that 32 years ago already, when I first walked into the conservatoire in The Hague and heard all that music in the building. Straight away I thought, ‘what a privilege to be able to work here’. Musicians, pianists, people who are sincerely passionate about what they do and who, as ballet pianists, are also at the service of your work as a ballet teacher. And that goes much further than just providing the accompaniment for your class or exercises. When someone plays something, a beauty wells up inside you; a feeling that – now I come to think of it – can’t possibly be described in words.”
Interview: Astrid van Leeuwen
