Alan Foley's mission is to bring dance to a wider audience, even if it means treading on a few toes, writes Michael Seaver
Alan Foley says he's not a ballet snob and it seems he can prove it. During a day he might, in his own words, "teach snotty-nosed three-year olds in the morning and rehearse dancers from the Kirov Ballet in the afternoon". As artistic director of Cork City Ballet, director of the dance studies at Coláiste Stiofáin Naofa and teacher in his own private ballet schools, the diversity of day-to-day life keeps him grounded.
And then there is his eclectic programming for Cork City Ballet. "This year in Ballet Spectacular we're opening with [young Cork choreographer] Jane Kellaghan's Veiled Illuminations to the music of Harlem. Then we go straight into the Don Quixote pas de deux, and Rainwater, which is a short ballet that Judith Sibley choreographed to the music of Paddy Casey, followed by Royston Maldoom's Celebration. Act two is Salut d'Amour, which is a new piece I made to the music of Elgar and Faust, alongside a ballet for four girls called Eva, by [former Irish National Ballet dancer and teacher] Patricia Crosbie, with music by Dolores Keane and Van Morrison. We close Act two with Tchaikovsky Pas De Deux and Act three is the second act from Swan Lake."
Paddy Casey and Dolores Keane tend not to share the stage with "white acts" from classical ballets, but Foley's choices arise from practical issues of audience development rather than cheeky impertinence.
"I look at that programme and think there is something there for everyone. Now, I know that pure classicists would look at that and have a weakness. I don't care, because we get full houses. Audiences have grown over time by the fact that people going to our performances know there's going to be variety in the programme and so something for everyone."
He sees ballet, particularly in Ireland, as having to fight hard for those audiences. Changes in social and cultural values mean that to some ballet is seen as an antiquated art form, irrelevant to normal life.
"Ballet essentially comes from a time and place where, for example, a kiss meant an awful lot. Now dancers can roll around fully naked on stage without anyone batting an eyelid. Also nowadays we are bombarded with images. Just look at any four-minute pop video and how quickly we now can read images, compared to a time when some three-act ballets seemed short."
The art form's ongoing devaluation in Ireland was brought sharply into focus last year when Cork City Ballet had its Arts Council funding cut and Ballet Ireland had its grant decreased from an expected €293,000 to just €60,000. The two companies have clawed back somewhat this year with Cork City Ballet's allocation of €45,000 and Ballet Ireland's recent award of €130,000, but ballet still struggles to impose itself on our cultural consciousness. The arts sector's mute response to last year's cuts to ballet recalled the indifference to the axing of Irish National Ballet (along with Dublin Contemporary Dance Theatre) in 1989. Similarly, a two-hour documentary, Late Late Show special and a series of articles in The Irish Times on the National Theatre made no mention of Ninette de Valois's seminal work with Yeats on his dance plays, her influential presentations on the Abbey stage nor the very existence of the Abbey School of Ballet.
But how did Cork City Ballet's value, in the eyes of the Arts Council, change so radically in three years from €32,000 to zero to €45,000? "Well how we became a €32,000 company was that we had a good relationship with [former dance officer] Gaye Tanham, who saw how the company was developing and agreed with our plan and our vision. Also we had developed a strong link with Cork Opera House and Gerry Barnes, who were extremely supportive in helping the company emerge. Why the money was taken away is still a mystery. I don't know and right now I don't care. It's been reinstated."
But the change in Arts Council membership is certainly a factor. After last year's cuts, he told The Irish Times that only one Arts Council member had seen any Cork City Ballet performances in 2002 and questioned how the council felt able to impose a cut with such a lack of first-hand knowledge of the company's work.
After this year's reinstatement by a newly appointed council, he's more optimistic. "I'm very happy with the current make-up of the Arts Council and the people in a position to make decisions. I certainly respect their background and feel that I can have a real conversation to them about dance that is practical rather than esoteric."
Survival last year was possible, not just through the support of Cork Opera House and other friends of the company, but also because of Foley's ability to knock on doors and ask for favours, a skill that was essential in the company's early days.
"I had no compunction about ringing anyone for anything. Look at that tutu hanging on the bookcase. I rang the Royal Ballet looking for a rehearsal tutu and explained who I was and said that we had nothing. So they sent me that tutu, which was actually Margot Fonteyn's. I said 'How much do you want for it?' and they said 'Nothing. Keep it. Let it be a contribution to ballet in Ireland'. Another time went to the local dressmaker and said 'Look I have nothing, but I need 16 dresses for swans'. So she made them for €10 each."
Negotiating the city's ballet politics was another matter. Like many Cork dancers, he trained with Joan Denise Moriarty and danced in her Cork Ballet Company. His rebellious streak collided with her great sense of tradition on many occasions and although the common perception was of irreconcilable personalities, Foley insists that she empathised with his single-mindedness and they enjoyed a close relationship. He quit the company (twice) and clashed with her over contracts that prohibited him to run his own ballet schools, yet he still talks about her with real affection. Any bitterness is towards the people who gathered around Moriarty and felt they had to protect her, "which was ridiculous", he says. "After all, this was an incredibly strong woman who had defied the odds and single-handedly put ballet on the map in Ireland. Because we had had our differences they felt, towards the end of her life, that I should be kept away from her. I wasn't allowed visit her in hospital, was turned away from performances and was made feel unwelcome at her funeral [in 1992].
"Yet many of these self-appointed 'minders' didn't really know the real woman at all. I remember the two of us had to fly to London to talk to two guest artists from the Kirov about appearing with Cork Ballet Company. We were meeting them in the Strand Hotel and we were directed up to dancer Elder Eliav's bedroom. I remember Ms Moriarty was bristling going up in the lift at the notion of meeting in a man's bedroom. When we go into the room, the only place to sit, of course, was on the bed.
"So, we're sitting on the bed and Elder casually comes in bare-chested and puts a tee shirt on. By the time the tea and biscuits arrive, she is completely indignant and trying to cover it up by being coldly officious. But as the negotiations and discussions get going around Swan Lake, she really begins to chill and get totally animated about 'how we do Swan Lake' and who would be dancing, etc. I remember on the plane home she was buzzing. One part of her was trying to go back to the proper Ms Moriarty that should be all proper, but the other side of her was like a little girl who had just lived out this adventure. 'I was in a man's bedroom today, drinking tea and discussing ballet'. This was the real side of her which didn't come out too often."
Cork City Ballet is planning a performance of The Nutcracker for the opening of Cork City of Culture in January next year. "The funding isn't confirmed yet, but Cork City of Culture seem to be anxious to go ahead with it. I think what they like about it the most is that I am a living link to Moriarty."
While their battles mean he mightn't have a pedigree lineage, Foley is closer to Moriarty's models of practice than he or others might acknowledge. But anti-traditionalism and unpretentiousness bordering on healthy irreverence are important additions to his armoury in pushing the cause for ballet in Cork and Ireland.
Ballet Spectacular will be performed at Cork Opera House next Monday and Tuesday; Town Hall Galway (March 24th); Siamsa Tíre (March 25th); University Concert Hall, Limerick (March 26th); and The Helix, Dublin (March 27th)