"Any woman can become a mother," the great choreographer George Balanchine once sniffed, "but not every woman can become a ballerina."
Francia Russell, co-artistic director of the Pacific Northwest Ballet, always wanted to be both. But as a member of Balanchine's celebrated New York City Ballet in the late '50s and early '60s, she knew that the pairing of dancing and family life was looked upon as not just foolishness, but treason.
"Balanchine was very upset with me for marrying Kent -- and for having a baby," says Russell. She'd had the audacity to fall in love with fellow company member Kent Stowell, and, in short order, give birth to Christopher, the first of their three sons. To top it all off, Russell had decided to quit dancing; to keep her in the NYCB fold, Balanchine appointed her company ballet mistress, a mammoth responsibility for a then-25-year-old.
"It was a 24-hour-a-day job," she recalls, one that involved running rehearsals of new works while keeping older ones fresh and true to the master's standards. "And it was sort of silly, with me so young, and with Kent and Christopher completely filling my life."
So the couple did the unthinkable -- they left relatively secure jobs at the top of the ballet ladder in New York for an uncertain future in smaller ponds. Nineteen years ago they came to Seattle as directors of a struggling company, and since then have managed to combine the rigors and joys of family life with the equally intense world of art. And it worked -- the company has become a renowned regional ballet, and the children are now successfully launched on their own careers, one as a dancer.
Russell's immersion in the NYCB repertoire led her to become one of the few designated keepers of the Balanchine flame; they travel the world staging the late choreographer's ballets. And Pacific Northwest -- which opens a week-long run Tuesday at the Kennedy Center Opera House -- is, among other accomplishments, recognized as one of the prime exemplars of the Balanchine style.
Russell and Stowell, 58 and 57 respectively, have long been regarded as artists and teachers of quality. The PNB School, which she directs, is considered a model of curriculum and training. His choreography, which ranges from chamber-size pieces to immensely popular renderings of "The Nutcracker," "Cinderella" and "Swan Lake," offers a fine complement to the more rarified Balanchinian fare. Their dancers are guaranteed 30 hours of work a week, 40 weeks a year, and earn salaries that afford them a measure of security -- unusual in the increasingly unstable world of dance.
Yet what truly sets Russell and Stowell apart is their ability -- and determination -- to balance family and work. That juggling act has become a '90s norm, but in a driven and difficult profession like dance, a ballerina's pregnancy is not always greeted with jubilation, and families are often far away or not even part of the picture. The fact that the pair have managed to carve out an existence that embraces intense rehearsal periods as well as dinnertime chats, soccer games and family vacations is proof that art can flourish in such a seemingly conventional environment. "We've gone through our moments of terror," admits Stowell. "When we left {New York} City Ballet, we felt we were idiots. What have we done?' But we'd started our family, and the dance boom hadn't started yet, and I felt I needed other challenges. I'd worked with a master, but I didn't want to do Balanchine-speak; I needed to develop my own sense of self as a choreographer. And I needed to make a living, support a family."
Their first stop was a professorship for Stowell at Indiana University, a "safe haven" where the couple tried being "normal people." But after the electricity of being part of a first-rate ballet company in Manhattan, middling students in the Midwest just didn't cut it. Next stop was Munich, where Stowell danced and choreographed for the Munich Opera Ballet, and then Frankfurt, where, in 1975, Russell and Stowell were appointed co-artistic directors of the Frankfurt Ballet.
By that time, Russell had given birth to Darren, and, 18 months later, Ethan. And orderly, childrenshould-speak-only-when-spoken-to Germany was not, she discovered, the ideal place for an American couple to raise a trio of rambunctious little boys.
"People were always telling you what to do," she remembers, laughing. "They would come up to me and say, Pregnant women do not belong in public.' Or, That child's feet should be covered.' And there was an ordinance that designated 1 to 3 in the afternoon a quiet time. The children weren't even allowed to run around outside the house. We had an au pair from Liverpool at the time, and she'd go crazy holed up inside the house, trying to keep them busy and quiet. . . . And though we had six weeks off in the summer, and a lot of legal holidays, I'd be at the theater from 10 until 2, then from 5 until 9 in the evening. It was no way to raise a family. I spent a lot of time in tears."
After casting about for a professional situation where, as Russell describes it, "we could do our work, where there was a lot of potential and where we could raise our sons," they received an offer from the board of the Pacific Northwest Ballet, a small Seattle-based company with room for improvement. The formation of a company school was agreed upon. They took the plunge.
"The day after we arrived, the brochure for the school was due," Russell recalls. "There was no time to sit and contemplate." By that time the couple had come up with a division of labor that embraced everything from finances to meals.
"I futzed over money, and she futzed over the language of our printed materials," explains Stowell. "I did ballets and she did the school syllabus. We'd come home after work and she went to the kids, helped them with their homework. I would fix dinner. I still fix dinner to this day." (And in the process, he developed an obsession with gourmet cooking.)
Inevitably, they also talked shop a lot. That's what Darren, 23, remembers. His brother Christopher, seven years older, who has been in Washington this week in his role as a a principal dancer with the San Francisco Ballet, joined in enthusiastically. Darren was more of a jock (he does sports marketing and event planning for the Seattle Sport and Social Club, a group that organizes sports events for adults), but he says he enjoyed hanging out at the theater where "everybody from the stagehands to the dancers to the box office staff knew us." He and Ethan, 22, now an apprentice chef at Seattle's Lampreia restaurant, never actively disliked the arts as kids, but definitely felt a divide between themselves and Christopher in terms of both age and interests. In the past five years or so, all three concur, those feelings have been resolved, and the family's never been closer.
As kids, they were never prodded into the dance studio.
"Never once was I encouraged to dance," says Darren. "I fell in love with sports when I was 5, and they understood. It was fine with them, and I think kind of a relief as well."
"I wanted to perform, and my parents never actively discouraged me," Christopher recalls. "Let's say they encouraged me without ever shielding me from practical things."
Stowell perceives things differently: "We tried to discourage him. Christopher did it all on his own."
Now that all three of their sons are grown and thriving -- during the past few weeks, both Ethan and Darren moved into their own apartments -- Russell and Stowell's parental duties have diminished. Sure, they still have the students in their school to minister to, and the PNB dancers' bruised elbows and egos need attention. And what about the ballerina who announces she's going to have a baby? After principal dancer Julie Tobiason gave birth to a son 2 1/2 years ago, Russell was plainly worried that she wouldn't return to the company. "But you what?" Russell exults. "Julie did come back, and she's a better dancer now. She was always cute, but now she's warmer, more interesting. Her life is fuller." CAPTION: Clockwise from above, a scene from "Carmina Burana," which Pacific Northwest Ballet will perform at the Kennedy Center; the company's co-artistic directors, Francia Russell and Kent Stowell, with their sons Ethan, left, and Darren; and son Christopher, who followed in their footsteps. CAPTION: From right, Francia Russell and Kent Stowell -- husband and wife and leaders of the Pacific Northwest Ballet -- oversee a rehearsal.