What the critics say
"...arguably one of the most amusing and
fascinating dance books ever published." The
Spectator
"Bull is self possessed, quick and open.
Her tongue is as agile with words as her toes are with music."
Financial Times
"...beautifully written, compulsively
truthful...." The Daily Telegraph
"Dancing Away has a vivid style that makes it compulsive reading.
She has a gift for making you live the experience of being a dancer."
The Sunday Times
"...delightful...." Norman
Lebrecht, The Daily Telegraph
"...vibrant and perceptive descriptions of how it feels to dance."
The Times
"...a witty diary full of political bite, flirtatious gossip and funny
asides." The Evening Standard
"Dancing Away succeeds as both a fascinating account of a
dancer"s life and a perceptive commentary on events at the House." Ffion
Jenkins, The Sunday Times
The Independent
"Arts related books sometimes risk being categorised as being of minority interest
only, and a year in the life of a Royal Ballet dancer may seems especially elitist. But
when the dancer is Deborah Bull, whose interests have led her to her own nutrition book
and a place on the Arts Council, and the year relates as much to the crisis at the Royal
Opera House as to performances, the book - Dancing Away - rightly attracts a wider
readership. It's written in diary form, which always makes for compulsive reading, and
opens with a riveting description of the complex mix of concentration, terror and
excitement which characterise any live performance. It's written in an assured, down to
earth style which makes the detail of ballet rehearsal and performance as accessible as
her account of the political manoeuvrings which concerned the House over the year."
David Phelan
The
Stage
Deborah Bull is mindful that the end of her dancing career is just coming into view. But
on the strength of her book, Dancing Away, she need not worry a great deal about the
future.
A couple of years ago, at the Oxford Union, she surprised everybody by revealing herself
as a ballerina with a brain, since when she has been in demand for newspaper articles,
radio interviews and membership of arts organisations. So much so that I should not be
surprised if she ends up as minister for the arts one day, for she has a lot of
commonsense, speaks with coherence and charm, and shows herself as deeply concerned about
the future of the arts.
The book is written in the form of a diary, a year in the life of a dancer who is still at
the top of her profession and has accepted all its drawbacks, but realises that perhaps
she is just passing her peak, with the really good roles no longer coming her way. She
accepts her position with tact and good nature, and is trying to find her place in the
world.
The shadow falling over the Royal Ballet in the year under review is, of course, the
closure of the Royal Opera House - her home for some 15 years - and the future of the
company itself under a government obsessed with populism and access. Bull conveys all the
anxiety felt by the company, trying to keep in touch with the news while touring in Japan,
the States and Spain. And she embellishes her thoughts with snippets about her private
life: her relationship with physiotherapist partner, Torje - who is even more likely to be
away from home than she is, a nasty bout of salmonella poisoning acquired during a visit
to her family in Lincolnshire, where she first began dancing lessons with Janice Sutton in
Skegness. It is a book which, I am afraid, says much more about the world of ballet as it
is today than Darcey Bussell's (Life in Dance).
The Express
Deborah Bull is dancing away in two respects. As a top
ballerina with the Royal Ballet, her evenings are spent dancing in ballets old and new
with beauty and intelligence. But, with the closure of the Royal Opera House in July 1997,
she is also dancing away from home. The diary is in part the story of a year which sees
the company performing in Japan, the US, Spain, Frankfurt, Hammersmith, the Royal Festival
Hall and, not least, Blackpool and Sheffield.
But her year contains more than dance. As an author, Deborah Bull launches her book on
healthy eating and what turns out to be the last British Rolls-Royce, the Silver Seraph,
with a ballet evoking the spirit of Rolls-Royce.
Articulate, forceful and opinionated, Bull sits on various boards and committees, ending
up on the Arts Council itself. And, for what can only be called personal reasons, in her
few free moments, she drops in on the Rolling Stones' Bridges to Babylon tour.
All this and much more is in the book which is witty, well observed and impassioned. The
passion is for ballet and for art. There are revealing discussions on performing ballets
and illuminating remarks on the relation between dance and sexuality.
But, with the situation as it is at Covent Garden, there are inevitably political
overtones.
The diary opens with a change of government on May 1st, 1997, but, by May 12th, she is
already worried about its attitude to the arts. She wants art for everyone, but it must be
the best kind, not watered-down, empty self-expression. It must be art which challenges
our intellect and expands our world view. In attacking the Royal Opera House as elitist,
is the Government really questioning the very need for art that makes demands on audiences
and performers?
All this makes one wonder if Chris Smith knew what he was doing when he put Miss Bull on
the Arts Council. She will clearly settle for nothing less than excellence, however off
message such a stand might be. My only reservation is when she says great art civilises -
history shows that this is not guaranteed. But what great art does is to afford us unique
possibilities of alertness, intelligence, of feeling and of beauty.
I am sure that it is a good thing for the arts in this country that Deborah Bull is on the
Arts Council. For the rest of us, her diary is a delight.
Anthony O'Hear |
