With Anima Animal, Herman Cornejo Reimagines a Lost Nijinsky Ballet

February 14, 2025

While on tour in Buenos Aires, Argentina, in 1917, the inimitable Russian dancer and choreographer Vaslav Nijinsky committed to working on a new ballet, called Caaporá, based on a Guarani legend of the urutaú, also known as the potoo bird. He never completed the project due to increasingly debilitating mental illness.

When Argentinian native and longtime American Ballet Theatre principal Herman Cornejo learned of this lost ballet in 2016, he decided to team up with other Argentine artists to revive it. The result, Anima Animal, is a powerful evening-length work featuring choreography by Anabella Tuliano and performances by Cornejo and the contemporary dance company Grupo Cadabra. The original score, a mix of electronic with Argentine folk and classical music, was created by Luis Maurette “Uji” (DJ Uji) and Noelia Escalzo.

Anima Animal had its world premiere at the Teatro del Bicentenario in San Juan, Argentina, in 2022. It will now premiere in the U.S. at The Joyce Theater in New York City February 18–23.

A large group of dancers makes a sculpture-like pose together, four working together to lift one dancer who sits on their hands and lifts his arms in an intense, focused gesture, as if motioning where the group should go. In front of them, a cluster of dancers faces stage right and lunges and crouches as they look to where he gestures.
Herman Cornejo (top) and Grupo Cadabra in Anima Animal. Photo by Carlos Villamayor Salto, courtesy of The Joyce Theater.

Pointe spoke with Cornejo to discuss his experience creating and performing in his revival of Nijinsky’s lost ballet. 

How did you first come across Caaporá?

A few years before the pandemic, I read in the newspaper that Nijinsky was going to create what would have been, at the time, the first ballet for Argentina. He fell in love with the Indigenous myth about a bird in the forest, called urutaú, and contacted Stravinsky to create the music. He was very inspired to create this piece and then was diagnosed with schizophrenia and left the stage. It was never done and was the last project that Nijinsky had in mind.

I always knew I wanted to create something about Nijinsky, to honor him. He became such an important figure for me as a male dancer. I felt a huge connection with him, so this was just a gift, a perfect place to start.

Had you known about the myth of the urutaú bird?

No. I started to study it after reading that article in the paper and got to know more deeply the culture of the Guarani, an Indigenous tribe in northern Argentina who created this version of the myth.

The story is that an Indigenous warrior falls in love with an Indigenous woman. He kills her by mistake, because the white people came to invade the tribes. She becomes a star, and he transforms into his animal soul—a bird called urutaú that only appears at night in the forest. He poses in the branches and looks at the stars and makes a crying sound. He’s looking at her in the stars, hoping to one day join her.

A large group of dancers makes a sculpture-like pose together, with a ring of dancers at the bottom surrounding a group that lifts one dancer at the top. They all wear flesh-tone shorts or shifts.
Herman Cornejo (front, center) and Grupo Cadabra in Anima Animal. Photo by Carlos Villamayor Salto, courtesy of The Joyce Theater.

How did the process of making Anima Animal begin?

I got a fellowship from NYU’s Center for Ballet and the Arts in 2021 to dig more into the story and figure out how to bring it to the stage. I started to develop a new idea based on this legend, with the theme of taking care of our planet. Almost every Indigenous tribe in Argentina had knowledge of the stars, and they deeply connected with our planet and took care of it.

At what point did you start to bring in the other artists to collaborate?

When I started to write about this new concept, I immediately had a movement in my mind—kind of like I created a piece without the steps. I started to look online for choreographers and companies, and I came across this video on Instagram of [Anabella Tuliano’s company, Grupo Cadabra] performing on top of cubes. I just loved the movement. I thought, This is exactly what I envision for this project.

On Facebook, I found DJ Uji. After talking to [Tuliano], and then to Uji, who is more a DJ than a musician, we decided we needed more classical music behind it. Then we found Noelia Escalzo, who is from Córdoba.

While creating your concept for Anima Animal, how much did you reference Nijinsky’s work?

Of course there’s some Nijinsky reflected, especially in the jumps and leaps. He’s kind of like the legend inside this legend. That jump when [the warrior] transforms into a bird is like the iconic photo of Nijinsky jumping for one last time. People said he had the tendons of a bird.

I do think that this is not the full work, because the story continues after he transforms into a bird. In the back of my head, Anima Animal is part one of a trilogy.

In black and white: Herman Cornejo arches back into a tight "C" shape as he jumps high off the ground, arms spread back and legs tucked in as he is lit from the side.
Herman Cornejo in Anima Animal. Photo by Carlos Villamayor Salto, courtesy of The Joyce Theater.

How would you describe Tuliano’s choreography?

It’s very physical, but with a lot of layers. I didn’t want to create a piece where it’s just dance. I wanted to send a message to the people. Her style is very elegant, very stretched. We tried to add a bit of the ballet technique that I have, with more turns and jumps, to create this balance between the grounded contemporary and lighter classical dance.

I gave Tuliano complete freedom because I knew her movement was what I wanted. I wrote down the story and the path for each section, so the choreographic idea is mine, but all the choreography, steps, and movements are hers.

Tell me about the sets and costumes.

There are no sets. Costumes are minimal. We tried to make it as simple as possible, because we didn’t want to cover the message with distractions. It’s all about connecting with our planet, with our soul. That’s the basis of the piece—to connect—so we didn’t want anything to pull away from that.

As a dancer, what is it like for you to perform this?

It’s more than a gift. To have had an idea, and put it in writing, and then put it onstage and be part of it. Until now, I’ve been choreographed on by someone else. After so many years of that, to now do something that came from my mind is very rewarding.

I will keep enjoying my years as a dancer, but this has opened another chapter for me. I still create with me onstage, but eventually I’ll create without me onstage. So, this is the chapter where I evolve into, hopefully, a director and creator.