Lauren Toole received her ballet training at the School of American Ballet. At 17 she joined the New York City Ballet where she danced roles in numerous ballets from the company's repertory, including works by George Balanchine, Jerome Robbins and Peter Martins. She originated roles in new works by Christopher Wheeldon, Eliot Feld, and Christopher D'Amboise. In 2002, she moved to Berlin, Germany, where she danced in the Staatsballett Berlin under the direction of Vladimir Malakhov. She has also performed with the Suzanne Farrell Ballet at the Edinburgh Festival. She is a member of Los Angeles Ballet where she has performed principal roles in works by George Balanchine and Melissa Barak. This is her fifth season with New Chamber Ballet, where her roles include parts in Silk, Velvet, Lace, Adue, Aeolia, Silent Shadows, Echoes, All the Rage and Moments. She has also choreographed Cascade for the company.

INTERVIEW:
Lauren Toole in conversation about dance, the Arts and New Chamber Ballet.

When did you first start ballet?
When I was about three years old my parents took me to a podiatrist because, as a young child, I was slightly pigeon-toed. The podiatrist suggested that my parents enroll me in dance, gymnastics or skiing. Well, to cover all the bases, my parents signed me up for all three, and for years my family juggled ballet and gymnastics on different weeknights and skiing in Vermont on the weekend. Gradually, ballet won my heart, and my interest in gymnastics and skiing waned. But I think I was drawn to ballet by more than enjoyment: as a very shy child I felt liberated by the expressiveness of dancing. I felt free to be myself, and I didn't have to say a word. To this day, that is my favorite aspect of dancing.

Where did you receive your training?
I trained at the School of American Ballet, and with Nancy Bielski and Deborah Wingert. I am thrilled that they continue to train and support me to this day. Nancy taught me to move with speed and clarity, and to connect steps seamlessly. She made me focus on the intricacies of a step without losing sight of the image that my body should be making in space and time. Thanks to her I can integrate precision with artistry and freedom of movement. Working with Debbie is fascinating too. She has so many insights that help me approach steps in a way that makes sense for my body. She might suggest to initiate a movement differently, or to feel a different muscle activating, and it can totally change the way a particular step works. Debbie encouraged me to feel the way my body moves and reacts to movement, which helped me become a much more natural and expressive dancer.

How did you join NCB?
At the time, I had recently left the Berlin Staatsballett in Germany, and was contemplating whether I would stop dancing altogether and become a full time college student. I had not been onstage for a year. Deborah Wingert told me that Miro was looking for a dancer. He hired me and I danced in Silk. That performance made me realize that I couldn't stop dancing. I realized how much I missed dancing and that I wasn't ready to give up such an integral aspect of my life.

How is NCB different from other companies?
NCB is very different from the other companies with which I have danced. I love that the work is all within a classical ballet idiom, but there is so much experimentation at the same time. NCB is a small company. We are all individuals, and it is wonderful to be dancing in a setting where that individuality is encouraged and fostered. Nearly everything we dance is choreographed on us. We don't feel like we dance in anyone else's shadow, or struggle to live up to someone else's interpretation. Our movements really emanate from who we are as dancers and as people, and we can put ourselves entirely into what we are dancing, which makes it all the more fulfilling.

Any favorite roles?
My repertoire at NCB is very varied; it spans everything from the very classical with Baroque music, to the very contemporary with Modern music. It is hard to pick a favorite, but if I had to choose, I think it would be Velvet. My solo in that ballet fits me like like a glove. It is exactly the type of swooping and flowing movement that I love to revel in.

You have worked both in Europe - in Germany, at the Berlin Staatsballett - and in the U.S. on both coasts. Tell us about the differences you've experienced...
I think that for European audiences a dancer's technique is a given - they want to be moved emotionally. This allows the dancers to focus more on expression and interpretation. In New York, people enjoy being wowed by sheer technical execution and exciting tricks. There is also a big social aspect to going to the ballet in New York.

From technical execution and tricks to the flip side - injuries...
I have had two major injuries over the span of my career. I broke my foot about eight years ago, and had torn cartilage in my knee that required surgery last spring. Both injuries afforded me a great deal of introspection about my life, as it related to dance and to the outside world. The injuries occurred at times when I was most unhappy for various reasons. I think that they were brought on because my body was telling me that I needed to make a change. I have come out of them physically stronger and more aware of my body. But more importantly, I think that I have also emerged psychologically stronger. The absence of ballet for a prolonged period helped me make choices that make me happy.

Outside of dance, what inspires you?
I am incredibly inspired by the sculpture of Rodin. The line, grace, passion and plasticity of movement in Rodin's sculpture is quintessentially dance-like. The subjects of the sculptures capture a moment in time without being static.

Rodin. What else?
The next one seems to be the polar opposite from Rodin. At MOMA, there are four canvasses by Kandinsky, entitled Panels for Edwin R. Campbell 1-4. These paintings are very colorful and entirely non-objective. But in their abstraction they are overflowing with excitement and vibrancy. The paintings have incredible vitality bursting from them, but the boundaries of the canvas give them a contained quality. This is just like dancing - energy and attack that is funneled into controlled and precise movements. Viewing these paintings makes me want to embody their exuberance through movement. I liken the movement of the colors to music, and this sort of "visual music" simply makes me want to dance. Kandinsky said, "Color is a means of exerting influence upon the soul. Color is a keyboard. The eye is the hammer. The soul is the piano with its many strings." What better way to manifest this interaction of color and the soul than through dance?

Where do you see the difference between those Visual Arts experiences and a dance performance?
When someone goes to a museum and look at a painting, the process of observation is very clear. There is the painting, and standing before it is the viewer. The painting is exactly as the artist intended, and when the viewer brings his own disposition and emotions to the table there is a fairly direct interaction between the viewer and the intentions of the artist. But ballet, like other genres of the performing arts, requires a third party to be made manifest.

A third party?
Yes. I am very interested in the role that dancers play as an intermediary between the choreographer and the audience. A ballet is ephemeral, and would not exist without the dancers. It is our responsibility to translate the choreographer's intentions to the audience. It's a difficult balance to achieve - how much do we have to be servants of the choreography, and how much should we offer our own interpretation of the steps and the choreographer's intentions? And this is for the audience to ponder as well -- when you go to a performance, do you expect to be moved by the ballet or by the dancers' interpretation of it? How much of your potential to be moved comes not from the choreographers or the dancers, but from your own expectations and proclivities as an audience member?