The Black Swans of Harlem, a Book Review
Book cover image from PenguinRandomHouse.com
When I was eight years old, a Black man was my ballet class instructor. I remember him keenly: Massively tall and broad-shouldered, with a voice so rich and deep it filled the large classroom with no effort at all, yet was ever gentle.
He mispronounced my name to make it sound French, and this fascinated me. At the year’s end recitals, he chose me to wait in the middle of the stage as all my other dozens of classmates ran into the wings. I stood there alone under the lights of the huge auditorium, put a finger to my lips, and tip-toed off the stage.
It never occurred to me then to wonder at my teacher’s story, to notice his relative uniqueness, or to question him in any way. I never considered how he had come up in ballet or whether this had been his life’s vision as a dancer. All I knew was that he stood in the world I loved, and he stood tall.
In many ways, he stood just as the women in Karen Valby’s The Black Swans of Harlem still do today. As I learned their stories and saw their incredible struggles and triumphs displayed on the pages in emotionally raw form, I remembered this teacher. And I wonder now, what was his story?
“There have been Black ballerinas for a long time,
and the fact of that takes away from no one.”
The Black Swans of Harlem is as steeped in history as the dance of ballet itself, yet time and culture have kept much of its story buried. The book details the creation and rise of the first permanent Black ballet company, and begins on the heels of the greatest tragedy of the American Civil Rights movement — the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
In the aftermath of that shock, people moved. One of those was Arthur Mitchell, a Black ballet dancer determined to break open performance opportunities to all skin colors in the historically White-only dance genre. He founded the Dance Theater of Harlem as an all-Black dance company and school. Both the company and the school expanded greatly and still exist today.
Mitchell died in 2018, having led his company through innumerable highs and lows for decades, so it is his first ballerinas who now tell this story: Lydia Abarca-Mitchell, Gayle McKinney-Griffith, Sheila Rohan, Marcia Sells, and Karlya Shelton-Benjamin. Their triumphs and traumas reach deep into one’s heart, demanding the attention long due them.
“the path of an artist is never linear and straightforward”
These women’s words and memories sprinkle the pages with images, ideas, disappointments, and dreams. Personal tragedies bring tears; moments of glory euphoria. As if listening to an expertly crafted documentary film, we follow these talented ballerinas through their long years of intense efforts.
We witness them in their painful, hours-long practices as Mitchell rages at tiny imperfections. We glory with them under the stage lights as they leap to the sky and bring audiences to their feet. And we sit with them in intimacy, learning their secrets, hearing their deepest hurts, and wishing them only good, just as they did with each other.
We also feel the impact of society on these women’s hearts and lives: the differences between American and European companies and audiences, the major Supreme Court decisions of the time, the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s. But most of all, we experience the tenacious drive Mitchell placed on his dancers to be perfect, to lead, and to prove themselves and their race.
One by one, each woman shares her story: How ballet called to her, how she struggled to find a place of belonging, the moment she realized what she could be, and the sacrifices she made on Mitchell’s demanding altar. Each story is equal parts heartbreaking and inspiring. No one is as strong or as resilient as a ballerina with a chance to prove herself.
“Artistry comes from within. It has nothing to do with ego or audience or approval.”
When reading this book, it helps to have a basic knowledge of ballet — some history, key individuals, or the names of movements or poses — as these occur frequently and with little explanation throughout.
But knowing these things isn’t necessary to understanding the book’s core purpose, which is to tell of these women who fought and sacrificed tremendously to ensure that the world would open to those who came after, to remember them for who they were and what they did, and to know for fact that ‘they were there’ and are yet here among us.The Black Swans of Harlem will be published in April 2024. Watch for it. Purchase it. Allow it to absorb you into the beautiful and difficult world of dance performance. And then afterward, ask yourself if you also have a part to play in furthering their story.
Interested in reading more? Try these reviews and articles:
- My Grandmother’s Hands
- Three Girls From Bronzeville
- My Favorite Things: Black Swans
- Amazed by History: My Take on Concrete Cowboy
Tandy Malinak was engrossed in visual art, stage performance, and storytelling before she knew what the words meant. A second-generation homeschooler with a BA in Elementary Ed, she also knows kids and homelife; set her down with a cup of tea, and she’ll go until you stop her. She loves fantasy, sci-fi, Nintendo, board games, studying the Word, the smell of a campfire, the sound of ocean waves, and all things feline—to name a few! Originally from Seattle, Tandy now lives in Chicago’s northside with her husband, 2 dragon-loving kids, and 4 cats.
Tandy recently perched herself on Twitter’s branch. She’s still figuring it out, but will make noise there eventually.
3 Comments
[…] The Black Swans of Harlem – a Book Review […]
[…] The Black Swans of Harlem, a Book Review – celebrating Black women in ballet […]
[…] The Black Swans of Harlem – Book Review on Overcoming […]