A Conversation With Friedemann Vogel: “I Am Always Hungry for Something New”
Stuttgart Ballet principal Friedemann Vogel is a superstar in his native Germany. Born in Stuttgart, he started dancing at the company’s affiliated John Cranko School before finishing his training at the Princess Grace Academy. He joined Stuttgart Ballet in 1998, rising to principal within three years. Vogel has won accolades from numerous competitions and dance publications over the years, as well as Germany’s prestigious Kammertänzer title, the most prestigious recognition the country can bestow on a dancer. Below, he shares thoughts on his most challenging roles, on life after ballet, and his advice for young dancers.
You’ve danced at Stuttgart Ballet for your entire career, although you frequently guest all over the world. What motivates you to stay?
If you come and visit you’ll see that there is a special spirit here in Stuttgart, from John Cranko and those early times at the company. This city is great for the arts. Also, my directors have been very generous in allowing me to guest, which is another reason to stay. I spend half my time at home in Stuttgart, but then get to dance other repertoire that we don’t have here with different companies.
You often perform at competition galas, like at Youth America Grand Prix, with young dancers on the brink of their careers. Is that special for you?
It’s very inspiring, because you see their energy and how fresh they see everything. It brings back memories. I did a lot of competitions when I was young because my school director pushed me to do them. I’m not a competitive guy at all, and I’d feel really intimidated at first. I’d often go by myself, without a coach. But it kind of prepared me for what my life is about now—traveling independently, organizing myself as a guest artist. It’s important to be able to see what’s going on, meet other people, see different styles, and to see where your heart will go to.
What do you enjoy more, performing onstage or the in-studio process?
I think they’re so interconnected that you can’t separate them. The goal is the performance, but you can’t do that without putting the work in.
Have you ever had a worst nightmare onstage?
Once during Balanchine’s “Diamonds,” I was doing a manège and during my last jump going into the wing, my foot got caught in the curtain and I fell straight on my stomach. My feet and legs were sticking out and I had to crawl off. I was so shaky, thinking, Am I injured? Thirty seconds later, I made my next entrance and was totally lost and distracted. I ran to my partner, thinking it was our little pas de deux, and she whispered, “This is my solo!” So I had to run off and eight counts later come on again. But those eight counts felt like an hour!
If you weren’t a dancer, what do you think you’d be?
When my friends have children and I hear them say, “Oh, I hope they don’t become a dancer,” I always wonder, Why not? I’m so happy I became a dancer. I would recommend it to anybody. So, I think I just chose the right thing.
But one day it will end. I want to stay somehow connected to the dance world—it will happen organically, I guess. That’s what’s hard, finding the same fulfillment once you stop. I’m a little concerned about that, although I always try to believe that the best is still to come.
Do you still have a role on your bucket list?
I’ve danced a lot of roles from ballets that were not created on me—Onegin, or Manon, or Lady of the Camellias. My dream would be to be part of a new creation by a choreographer who can really tell a story, a world premiere.
Oh, I just assumed you had done that before!
Well, I have. But that’s still my wish. I am always hungry for something new.
Of your repertoire, what ballet was hardest to learn and perform?
Rudolf Nureyev’s ballets are very, very challenging technically—his Raymonda or Swan Lake. But the reward is at the end, when you’ve made it. You’ve succeeded.
Also, I’ve danced both John Cranko’s Romeo and Juliet and the Kenneth MacMillan version. Everyone warned me that MacMillan’s would be so hard, but I thought it was easier compared to Cranko’s, where you have more than 20 double tours in the first act—before the balcony scene!
If you could have dinner with anyone in history, who would it be?
Because I’m from Stuttgart, definitely John Cranko. He inspired so many artists and choreographers and dancers, and I want to know what he would have been like in real life.
What role has taught you the most about yourself?
Crown Prince Rudolf from Mayerling. I discovered sides of myself that I wasn’t aware of. Rudolf is very sick, mentally, and his relationships with the people in his life are very complicated and violent. My life-partner suffered a lot, he said, because when you finish rehearsal, it’s hard to leave everything at the theater. Somehow you bring some parts home. But it’s like being an actor—being a charming prince all the time isn’t always the most interesting.
What is your biggest indulgence?
Coffee. A lot of double espresso.
With all that you’ve learned in your career, what would your advice be for a young, aspiring dancer?
As dancers it is our duty to bring something to the world, to inspire people, to make them change how they look at things. So that means that you have to dance intelligently and know what you want to express. It’s not about just the technique—otherwise it’s better to go into sports and win your medals there. Dancers are artists, and we should leave something onstage and tell a story. Even if it’s an abstract solo, there’s always a story or an inspiration behind it.
