Dance
For Vija Vētra, the world-famous choreographer and dancer, who celebrated her 100th birthday last year, the spirit of her art is ageless.
Featuring Vija Vētra
Photography by Rose Callahan
Words by Laura Neilson
When Vija Vētra sat for this interview on a recent June afternoon, she explained that she hadn’t fallen asleep until 7:00 a.m. that morning. Transfixed by videos of young animals frolicking and pouncing, and causing all sorts of chaos, the 101-year-old choreographer and dancer couldn’t resist the temptation to watch one after the next, well after the sun set and rose. Still, the lack of sleep did little to dull Vētra’s sharp acumen and commanding presence. “I still have my mind, I still remember dates,” she declared. It’s an impressive feat, considering her life’s many monumental moments, from her family’s 1944 exodus from Latvia to flee the incoming Soviet army, to the date she and her sister arrived in Australia, docking in Sydney Harbor as emigrants following the war, and everything between and thereafter: tours and performances, openings and arrivals, celebrations and honors.
Over the course of her 70-year career, Vētra has performed a number of different dance styles, most notably classical Indian, in countries spanning four continents, where audience members have included three Indian prime ministers, and Queen Elizabeth II. In her native Latvia, where she received the Award of Three Stars (the highest civilian honor), and recently presented her last performance—a blazing feat of endurance—she is rightfully revered as a living national treasure.
According to Vētra, who continues to dance and impress her talents as a choreographer, whether through her articulate hand gestures as she speaks, or during the weekly class she teaches in New York City’s West Village, she has too many great memories to recount in a single interview. And she’s correct. Alas, she’s shared some of her earliest, as well as her latest.
I am 101, but I never go by years.
My art is a spiritual art, and therefore the spirit has no age.
So I’m age-less. But generally-speaking, I would say my best performing years were when I was 50. That is when you’re mature in your ideas.
My parents were very fond of all arts. It wasn’t that they didn’t want me to become an artist, but it wasn’t possible because of finances.
A ballet school in Riga was very expensive. And my mother was the only bread-earner because my father was often ill. So it was only my mother.
I always wanted to be a dancer.
My favorite aunt, she was the one who brought me to my first ballet. It was Swan Lake, when I was five. Ever since I moved, I dance. I always say I must have danced in my mother’s womb. But when I went to the ballet, I learned that to be a dancer, you have to be like that.
I went to the ballet school and always looked through the glass door. I saw how in classical ballet you turn your feet out and walk like a duck. The ballet master always came and pushed me out, but I always came back. I persuaded my mother to go meet the director and explain the situation. Maybe he could bring the cost of lessons down, so it wouldn’t be so much in the beginning. I was so naive. It must have been awful, very hard for my mother to do that, but she was good enough to do it. When we went into the office, I remember he did not even look at me. He said no, no, no, and he turned away to talk to others. But life is interesting. After I became a professional dancer, after the war, my teacher from Vienna asked me to become her colleague and teach a summer course in Leipzig. And she tells me, “There will be someone from London, he will teach classical ballet.” He arrives, and as we are introduced, it is that director who turned me away! He said, “Oh yes, I’ve heard your name…” And I said, “Mister so and so, I hate you!” He said, “My god, what have I done?” I told him to sit down, I had a story. And so I told him all of this, all of my feelings. He learned something, and then we became friends. That was the cycle—a circle. And I’ve had many such circles in my life.
I gave a two-hour dance performance last year. There is no other dancer who has ever done that—that I have ever heard of. Two hours long! Not stopping. And I gave that in my native country, Latvia.
I made the decision to give my last performance at the age of 100.
I wanted to make a clean cut, so it would feel like a ritual. I had been dancing for 70 of my 100 years at that time, performing around the world on four continents.
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