The John Hopkins Gazette
November 2, 2009
Steven McRae grew up in the world of motor racing but now he is one of the Royal Ballet’s brightest stars
By Jessica Duchen
The Independent
Saturday, 31 October 2009
Stranger phenomena may have graced the stage of the Royal Opera House than a balletic prince who takes his inspiration from motor racing, but maybe not many. Meet Steven McRae, the hot young star of the Royal Ballet who makes his debut tonight as Prince Florimund in The Sleeping Beauty. The son of an Australian drag racer, McRae, 23, has been thrilling Covent Garden balletomanes: blessed with a soaring, secure technique, flaming red hair and a disarming charm that fronts terrific drive, he is living balletic life in the fast lane.
He started dancing aged seven. “My elder sister was a fantastic gymnast and dancer and I used to love watching her,” McRae says. “Then I said I’d like to have a go myself, so my mother took me to a class. She told me later that they thought I’d last a week.” The family lived in the western suburbs of Sydney, where arts were not a priority. “I would watch films – Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire – but we never went to the ballet. We were always at the racetrack instead. To me that was normal, to go to the track, watch Dad race and be surrounded by these incredible cars. I loved it.”
And so his role models, he says, were motor racers. “First, Shirley Muldowney: female racers at the time weren’t accepted, but she became world champion three times. Everyone tried to stop her, yet she wanted to achieve that goal; she kept going and eventually she did. Then John Force: he started with absolutely nothing, but he’s one of the biggest success stories in the sport. He wasn’t handed it on a silver platter. That was a huge inspiration.”
He’s ambitious, then? “Ambition is a wonderful thing,” he declares. “It’s a driving force behind you and it’s a powerful tool. It’s important to keep striving and having dreams and goals.” Growing up in Australia, everything was competitive, he adds. “There were always trophies to aim for in every field, and that competitiveness helps to set you up for all kinds of situations later.”
Images of Billy Elliot may spring to mind, but McRae encountered few problems with bullies as a boy wanting to dance. “When I started high school, a bunch of guys came up and said, ‘We hear you dance.’ I said, ‘I hear I’m not so bad. You should come and have a look sometime, you might like it.’ They never bothered me again. I think when people see a ballet rehearsal, class or performance, they realise there’s more to being a ballet dancer than the stereotypes. Throw anything at us, and we’re a lot fitter than the rest of the world! Besides, if you want to do something enough, then you’re going to do it. It doesn’t matter what people around you say.”
McRae feels he was lucky to have excellent teachers who encouraged him to aim for the top. And the top meant the Royal Ballet. “The whole dance world wants to come to London for the Royal Ballet and the Royal Ballet School.” It might have seemed an impossible dream at first, but after McRae won the Adeline Genée medal in 2002 and the Prix de Lausanne in 2003, doors swung open: aged 17, he won a coveted place at the Royal Ballet School.
Matters could easily have taken a different turn. Aged 14, McRae danced in the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games in Sydney in an extract of the hit show Tap Dogs. Soon after, he was invited to join the show in New York. He could certainly have become a star in musical theatre instead: on YouTube there is a clip of his dazzling James Bond tap solo in the Prix de Lausanne. “But I had already set my sights on the Royal Ballet goal,” he says. “It was a tough choice, but I’m glad I made that decision. Ballet has opened up a whole new world to me.”
McRae was promoted to principal dancer this summer. Having cut his teeth on smaller but technically glittering roles such as Bratfisch the coachman in Mayerling and the Bluebird in The Sleeping Beauty, and having had roles choreographed for him by Wayne McGregor and Christopher Wheeldon, now he is also facing debut upon debut in the great classical leads. The company’s variety of repertoire is among its biggest attractions, he says; he has about seven roles on the go at any time. “You can be rehearsing everything from The Sleeping Beauty to a brand new work in next-door studios on the same day, and that’s terrifically exciting,” he says. “I’m keen to be as versatile as possible. It keeps you on your toes.”
After all that virtuosity, plus contemporary works that push him to the limit, what is it like to portray a classical prince? The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince Florimund is not only about elegance, McRae insists. “As a character he’s a bit lost, wondering where his life’s going; there’s more depth to him than people might think. That’s important to convey – it allows the audience to connect with the character. He has feelings as well, hasn’t he? That’s what I’ll be working for.” His Aurora is the Brazilian ballerina Roberta Marquez: “She’s beautiful!”
And as that weren’t enough, he is taking an Open University degree in business management and leadership. “One day I’d love to be in the directorial side of dance,” he says. “The ballet world is always changing and evolving and I want to be part of that, so I’m doing this degree to back it up. And if you want to do something, you do it, don’t you?” If you are McRae, you certainly do.
Copyright 2009 Independent News and Media Limited
The Gravity-defying thrill of NYCB’s Daniel Ulbricht
By Harris Green
Dance Magazine
June 2008
Being short is no handicap for male dancers whose low centers of gravity can be a springboard to airborne virtuosity. Those possessing the artistry and technique to compensate for their stature include Vaslav Nijinsky, Edward Villella, Mikhail Baryshnikov, and Herman Cornejo. Whether Daniel Ulbricht can join this distinguished honor roll remains to be seen, but New York City Ballet’s ballet master in chief Peter Martins has such faith in the dancer’s star power that he has created high-flying, technically demanding solos for him in his last three ballets. The decibel count during curtain calls always spikes when Ulbricht takes a solo bow.
Otherwise Ulbricht has failed to follow the usual ballet traditions. Yes, he did join his sister, Heidi, in ballet class when he was 11 years old, but before succumbing to that cliché, he had devoted five years to karate. “The Karate Kid and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles made a big impression on me,” he recalls. “I begged my folks to sign me up. Because my teacher, Kathy Marlor, always stressed self-respect and discipline, I carried her lessons over into ballet.” Before he decided to concentrate on dance at age 13, he had earned a second-degree black belt, won two Florida championships in kata—variations on established forms—and found time for gymnastics. It took a knee injury to slow him down—for a while.
He felt fortunate in his ballet teachers, beginning with Leonard Holmes at Judith Lee Johnson’s Studio of Dance in St. Petersburg, Florida, his hometown. “Lenny wisely made me—the only guy—feel at ease by letting me take class in a baseball cap and baggy shorts and T-shirt,” he says. “I could do double tours and entrechats six from the start, but the barre bored me. He taught me how to harness my energy.” Holmes, who had studied at School of American Ballet, gave Ulbricht a foundation in Balanchine style. Private lessons with Javier Dubrocq from the Ballet Nacional de Cuba followed. Ulbricht stood a little over five feet at the time, but he continued to grow and is now about 5′8″. (Heidi’s short stature would eventually rule out a career in dance; she’s now married and has a degree in elementary education.)
Four years of summer study on scholarship at Chautauqua Summer Dance Program in upstate New York led to further Balanchine training under Patricia McBride, Jean-Pierre Bonnefoux, and Violette Verdy (her likening a plié to melting ice cream remains with him to this day). “Soon teachers who were visiting Chautauqua were offering me gigs,” he says. His freelance career began at age 14 with four Nutcrackers: Miami, St. Petersburg, Buffalo, and Pittsburgh. Everyone was suggesting he study at SAB, so in the spring of 1998, he flew to New York with his father for three days.
During that visit, he sneaked into Peter Boal’s advanced men’s class. Boal, now artistic director of Pacific Northwest Ballet, says he spotted Ulbricht as a “trickster” but he was stunned by how advanced he already was: “I thought: What on earth can I teach this kid? Yet I found him open to any correction. He was a dream student.” SAB offered him a full scholarship, and Martins didn’t wait until he was an apprentice to cast him as the central jester in the last-act divertissements of his Sleeping Beauty. “I was dazzled by Daniel when I first saw him as a student at the school,” Martins says, “and my admiration only continues to grow.”
Ulbricht’s jester, with its brilliant à la seconde turns and uniformly high side-straddle hops, and his leader of the men’s regiment in Stars and Stripes at SAB’s spring 2000 workshop earned him a Dance Magazine “25 to Watch” in 2001. Former City Ballet principal Daniel Duell, who now runs The School of Ballet Chicago, was bowled over by Ulbricht in Stars, a role Duell had danced. “Everything Daniel did was unfailingly musical,” he says, “always on the center of the beat. And he regularly landed in soft plié—a perfect fifth.”
Casting after he joined NYCB’s corps in the 2002 winter season proved a feast-or-famine affair. One Saturday he made two major debuts: as the spunky Faun in the Fall section of Robbins’ The Four Seasons and that evening as the refined Gigue in Balanchine’s Mozartiana. “The Gigue is my hardest role,” he says. “Victor Castelli taught me I must always consider myself a delicate Dresden figurine, which was a stretch.” More often he was, say, a huntsman in Balanchine’s one-act version of Swan Lake. (“If you think it’s easy keeping a straight face wearing a feathered cap while standing between two swan girls, you try it some time.”) Opportunities were limited by his height and the difficulty of finding a regular partner. (His offstage partnership with principal Sterling Hyltin has cooled but they remain chums.)
Waiting his turn at repertoire occurs less often now that Martins is creating roles on him. As Mercutio, Ulbricht danced eight of the first 14 performances of the new Romeo + Juliet last year. He bristled with prankish virtuosity yet died with powerful simplicity. No one else has ever been assigned the midair twists yards above the stage in Friandises. Tiler Peck, his partner, remembers, “Danny would finish rehearsing some really demanding stuff with Peter and then have the energy left to partner me. I felt I could trust him completely.”
Not everyone appreciates the veneer of sunny showmanship in his performances. One reviewer said he looked like he was “auditioning for a Three Stooges routine” as the First Sailor in Robbins’ Fancy Free. “I know I enter the bar walking like Popeye,” Ulbricht says, “but that’s what Robbins wanted.” More newsworthy was his performance of the sailor’s solo with its sensational split landing after a double tour. No one else at NYCB or American Ballet Theatre really goes for it like Ulbricht. Most guys land on their heels, then slide to the floor, but he performs both actions so quickly he seems to have crash-landed on his crotch. “You have to do everything in a split second,” he says.
Now a principal at age 24, with the great Villella roles such as Oberon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream and “Rubies” within his reach, he’s concentrating on toning down the showmanship. Villella, for instance, smiled but Ulbricht grins. Fortunately, the grin flickered only fitfully during his first two performances of Prodigal Son last winter. What drove audiences to demand multiple curtain calls was the power of his soaring Prodigal leap, his spiky pirouette of rage, and his embodiment of defeat and degradation. (“You can’t use your legs when you drag yourself off; it’s done with your elbows and shoulders.”)
Tarantella, another Villella specialty, has become Ulbricht’s signature ballet. When City Ballet visited London last March, he impressed veteran critic Clement Crisp with “his exact phrasing and his engaging freshness, as if inventing on the very moment the delights he shows us.” Before rehearsals for the spring season began, he took it on freelance gigs to San Juan, St. Petersburg (Russia), and Dallas. “Tarantella is going to buy me my apartment.”
And his burgeoning side career as a teacher will furnish it. He was invited to conduct his first class three years ago at the New York State Summer School for the Arts in Saratoga, and became so involved he lost his voice. Now that Damian Woetzel has stepped down as head of NYSSSA, Ulbricht and City Ballet principal Jenifer Ringer will share its direction. Ever adept at networking, he has since taught at—and always been asked back by—Central Pennsylvania Youth Ballet, The Rock School, School of Ballet Chicago, and Indiana University.
The teenage boys in Ulbricht’s advanced men’s class at SAB, where he began teaching last winter, would be surprised to learn how their teacher regularly clowned around in company class. Now while he gives them a challenging barre, he prowls the classroom, singing the counts like a nursery rhyme while stressing the beat with finger snaps and open-palmed thwacks to his thighs that go off like pistol shots. Once, however, he did a barre wearing the head of a Nutcracker mouse. Inspired by the production manager’s backstage instructions to his stage crew (“Housewarmers cue—go”), Ulbricht would amuse—or annoy—nearby classmates by whispering, “Sous-sus cue—go!”
He tells students that thorough preparation conquers fear, and that the barre should be treated as a performance. Yet he can’t remain solemn for long.
“You’re introducing yourself every time you step onstage,” he says. “But if you stand like this”—the posture sags, the neck disappears, the shoulders grotesquely hunch up to the ears—“it’s like you’re saying”—in the squeaky voice of an adenoidal robot—“Hi, I’m Daniel.”
Then the posture straightens, the shoulders subside, the neck elegantly lengthens, and all caricature vanishes. In his normal light baritone, Ulbricht says, “Hello, I’m Daniel.” And now everyone grins.
© 2008 Macfadden Performing Arts Media LLC
Clare Morgan
The Sydney Morning Herald
October 29, 2009
THE day before Adrian Burnett turned up at the Owl and the Pussycat dance school in Tamworth, he received a photograph and a letter from a boy who could barely contain his excitement over the former Australian Ballet dancer taking their class.
”They were so enthusiastic, they absolutely rocked it out,” said Burnett, who led the class as part of the Dance The Dream competition, a joint venture between NAB and the Australian Ballet.
It seems that boys up Tamworth way love their dance, with the school’s principal, Kimberley Brazel, dedicating one day a week to a boys’ class, the Tomcats. Class member Jaydon Merrick, 10, had entered the competition without telling anyone, including Mrs Brazel.
Almost 800 ballet schools from around Australia entered, with 10 selected for workshops with a professional dancer from the Australian Ballet. Burnett thinks the program is invaluable in fostering interest in dance and ballet, especially in regional areas.
”You see programs to get children interested in sport but there aren’t so many of those things for the arts, and in particular dance,” he said. They might not be ballet dancers – in fact, most of them won’t be – but they’re the audiences of the future, which hopefully gets them into other artforms.”
He enjoyed the chance to speak to parents, who often didn’t know what they were supposed to do to encourage their children. ”Often the fathers ask me questions, and it’s great to put them at ease. My father didn’t know what was going on either,” he said. ”There’s lots of focus on dance, thanks to So You Think You Can Dance, but not so much on classical ballet. In fact, I think there’s lots of misconceptions about ballet.”
Yesterday Burnett took a class from the Caper School of Performing Arts, in Bella Vista. ”I saw a lot of talent that we’ll see more of in the future,” he said.
Copyright © 2009 Sydney Morning Herald
By Carrina Stanton
For The Chronicle
Photographs by Holly Pederson
and Dan Schreiber
October 26, 2009
[Edited]
Mick Gunter leads a group of boys in a series of push-ups. Next, they lay on their backs and try to lift and hold their legs about three inches off the ground. Their muscles start to quiver with the next exercise, where they balance with their bodies in the shape of a V with only their bottoms on the ground.
One might think they were getting ready for some sort of sport or martial art. In reality, they’re warming up to dance ballet.
“Most people think ballet is a sissy kind of sport but they’re completely wrong,” said Gunter, who recently opened Centralia Ballet Academy with his wife, Nancy.
When the Gunters opened the ballet academy in downtown Centralia, Gunter said he knew he wanted an all-male class to be part of his curriculum from the beginning. In growing the next generation of dancers, Gunter said one of the hardest parts about getting males to dance ballet is breaking stereotypes. Boys are typically not encouraged to take ballet. In fact, Gunter did not start dancing himself until 1998, though it interested him as a child.
But Gunter said ballet can have various benefits for males so he offers a class that stresses basic ballet while being geared toward things boys like. In one class, he explained how the word plié looks very much like the word “plier,” a tool that opens and closes like the move. He encouraged his class to remember the move Rond de Jambe as being like running your foot around the bases in baseball. His all-male class also dances to music from Super Mario Brothers and James Bond.

“I try to make dance something they can relate to by using things they’re familiar with,” Gunter said. “Other classes are usually lots of girls and sometimes being the only boy can be intimidating. We’re trying to create an atmosphere where they feel comfortable.”
Most people think of ballet as being a female dance form, full of tights and tutus. But the first ballet performances can be traced to the Italian and French royal courts of the 1400s, where females were not permitted to take part in the theater arts. Dancers were male, including men wearing masks in female parts, until about 1680. From then both sexes were equally praised in the art form until about the 19th Century when male dancing began to decline with the appearance of romantic ballet, in which women excelled.
Male dancers began to reemerge in the 20th Century but they didn’t gain respect as contributors to the art until well into the 1960s when Russian dancers such as Vaslav Nijinsky, Rudolf Nureyev and Mikhail Baryshnikov began to emerge and choreographers began to write pieces for all-male casts. Tanner Calder, 18, of Napavine, who has been dancing at Southwest Washington Dance Center in Chehalis for three years, said watching videos of some of these great male dancers really showed him how physical and athletic ballet really [is].
“Watch footage of them dancing and you’ll understand completely what they did for ballet. They created male ballet,” Calder said.
Centralia Ballet Academy has a total of six male students. The Southwest Washington Dance Center has five male dancers this year. Calder said just a couple years ago he was the only male dancer at the Chehalis studio and for some unknown reason their ranks have steadily grown. He said he’s happy for the company, both from a performance standpoint and also that as the number of male dancers grow, so may the public perception of them. Calder, who actually gave up a spot on the football team to dedicate his time to dance, said he still encounters a great deal of ignorance about male dancers.
Fellow dancer Vernon Keech, 27, Chehalis, who danced as a teenager then returned to the art form last year, said he missed the creative outlet and physical strength dance gave him. But Keech admitted that when he decided to return to ballet, he felt a lot of pressure from his male friends who would take verbal jabs at him whenever he mentioned dancing. Now, he said he tries to educate those around him about just how strong male dancers must be.
“They say, ‘What do you do?’ and I say ‘I dance’ and they give me this, ‘Oh really?’ and I say, ‘Yeah, it’s really cool,’ and then I expound on the really cool parts about it,” Keech said. “It’s physically challenging. It requires mental discipline and teamwork. It’s like being in an organized sport and it’s just as hard.”
Soccer player Austin Hawkins groaned Saturday during his first male ballet class at Centralia Ballet Academy when Gunter showed the class some of the stretches. The 12-year-old from Chehalis said he was curious to try the art form and was surprised at how hard it was. “It was pretty difficult because I’d never done it before,” Hawkins said after the hour-long workout. “I’ll definitely be back.”
Gunter said ballet is not just for those who want to dance. He recommends dance to any athlete or martial artist to improve their balance, agility and strength. He pointed out that Pittsburgh Steelers Hall of Famer Lynn Swann began dancing at the age of 8 and never stopped. The top highest vertical leaps recorded by the National Basketball Association range from 28 inches to a little less then 6 feet. Talented male ballet dancers can leap 4 to 5 feet high with no running start. On good days, Baryshnikov could leap six feet.
Daniel Holloway, 13, of Olympia, who has been doing ballet for four years and recently started taking classes at Centralia Ballet Academy, said most of his friends are supportive of his involvement in ballet. For those who aren’t, he said ballet has given him the ability to prove male dancers are not wimps. “I only had one kid who thought ballet was just for girls, but I beat him in wrestling so he gave that up,” Holloway said with a grin.
In many respects, ballet is much like any other sport, Keech said. You have to learn to work together, especially when it comes to partnering with a female dancer. He said lifting a 100-plus pound dancer is not as easy as it looks. Lifts are a 50/50 relationship, with the male dancer lifting at just the right moment and the female learning to hold her core straight and in just the right position to help her partner. Keech said it is something that has to be learned. You can’t just walk onto a stage and lift a partner or someone will get hurt. One exercise dancers at Southwest Washington Dance Center use to strengthen their muscles is lifting the 5-gallon water cooler jugs. The dancers place their hands on either side of the 40-pound jug, much like placing their hands on the waist of a partner. Then they lift the jug up, down and to either side. “We have to know how to support ourselves and how to position ourselves,” Keech explained.
Besides striving for credit for the difficulty of their sports, local male dancers said more than anything they want to find a way for ballet to have a place among athletes. Gunter said he’s not trying to lure any athletes away from sports but rather encouraging them to take his class as a way to condition for their chosen activities. As someone who has seen both the physical act of dancing and performance change his life, Gunter said he simply wants to share the experience with more males.
“We want to make it so that you can still be a guy and do ballet,” Gunter said. “You can still like sports and go to ballet as well.”
Copyright © 2009 The Chronicle
Alison Lowson
Perthshire Advertiser
Oct 2 2009
PERTH is fast gaining a reputation as the dance capital of Scotland. The latest in a long line of talent finely honed by Julie Young Dance Studios is making the grade at the top level in UK ballet. The dedicated dance and performing arts school operator admitted: “The success of the current crop of local talent is unprecedented.”
Aiden O’Brien (11) has caught the eye of the Royal Ballet School. As one of just 12 boys selected from more than 1000 worldwide hopefuls who auditioned, Aiden has begun training at the famous school, chasing a dream of becoming the next Carlos Acosta.
He has been a junior associate with the Royal Ballet for the last two years and has been dancing since he was six.
Aiden joins former pupil Stephanie Rae, who is now in her fourth year with the Royal Ballet, having already savoured the Royal Opera House atmosphere in their production of ‘Nutcracker’.
There are just four Scots at the Royal Ballet and two emerged from the Julie Young school.
Meanwhile, Michaela Rondelli (16), a former Perth Grammar School pupil, and 17-year-old former St Columba’s High pupil Adele Duffy, have enjoyed a successful year.
Michaela, who added the senior Scottish ballet and senior Scottish Modern titles to her name in 2009 enjoyed successful auditions at top UK colleges. She has decided to embark on a three-year BA hons course in theatre dance at the London Studio Centre.
Adele has performed in various Perth Theatre productions. No stranger to the London dance circuit, she has chosen to attend performers college on a full-time professional dancer’s course.
In the younger age bracket, Kirsty Michie, from Coupar Angus, and Jodi Milne of Kirriemuir – both 11 – successfully auditioned for the Dance School of Scotland, part of Knightswood Secondary School in Glasgow.
With input from Michael Ellacott and Amanda Beveridge, the popular Perth dance school has widened its net to nurture dance, music and acting talent under the umbrella of the Julie Young School of Performing Arts.
Julie takes pride in the progress made by former pupils who are reaching for the heights in their chosen professions. “Shaun Kelly is in his final year with the English National Ballet School and will be performing in their Christmas production of ‘The Nutcracker’. Along with others, they have all played key roles in a wide variety of charitable and community entertainment.
Julie observed: “The pupils enhance the cultural life of the city and with greater emphasis on musical theatre Michael and Amanda are making the most of the raw talent we have in Perth.”
© 2009 Scottish & Universal Newspapers
by KATE CRAWFORD
The Moseman Daily
Photograph by Dave Swift
August 27, 2009
STEP aside Billy Elliot, here come’s Seaforth dance student Perry Scott. The 15-year-old has made one of the most spectacular leaps into the elite world of ballet by being accepted into the prestigious Australian Ballet School just seven months after deciding to learn to dance.
Perry was not inspired by the Billy Elliot story but by the film Strictly Ballroom. He saw the film with his mum, thought he’d like to learn to dance and began weekly lessons at Mosman Dance Academy.
“As soon as he walked in, I knew,” academy principal Jasmin Bobyk said. “Perry is a born dancer with the perfect physique for ballet.”
Bobyk said after Perry completed one term of weekly dance lessons in tap and classical ballet, she encouraged him to concentrate on ballet.
Perry had only done another three terms of three lessons a week when he successfully took part in an audition class in June for the Australian Ballet School though only 14.
Hundreds of aspiring young ballet dancers from across Australia, most of whom have undertaken years of lessons, audition each year for the school.
Perry said he was shocked when he was accepted. “The whole family was giddy and mum was crying,” he said.
Perry will move to Melbourne in January to attend the four-year course, which also includes regular academic studies.
Perry comes from a talented family. His mum is Lyndall Brasier, a teacher at Mosman High School, and his father Craig is head of jazz at the Conservatorium of Music. His older brother Joel is training to be an opera singer and sister Lucy is studying for a double degree in fine arts.
© 2009 News Community Media
AMY GRAY
EDP24
23/09/2009
A young ballet dancer from Norfolk will perform alongside ballet’s biggest stars at the Royal Opera House this winter – after less than two years of dancing lessons.
While most young dancers can only dream of being a ballet dancer on the world’s stage, 10-year-old Tyler Carey was picked from dozens of young hopefuls to join the ballet elite in a production of The Sleeping Beauty.
Last year, Tyler was made a Junior Associate of the prestigious Royal Ballet School after just one year of lessons.
He was invited to London to audition for a part in The Sleeping Beauty last week and later this year will play a king’s page.
“I watched all these shows and wanted to be in them so I started to do some jazz and tap, and then ballet,” said Tyler, from West Winch, near King’s Lynn. You have to be quite strong to be a ballet dancer and you have to jump high.”
Tyler, a pupil at Middleton VC Primary School, said rehearsals with the Royal Ballet would be “really, really technical” and he was currently learning to do the splits.
He added that one of his favourite dances to perform was a Blues Brothers routine with his twin brother, Finn, who goes to jazz and tap lessons.
Penny Cooke, who teaches Tyler at Watlington School of Dancing, said it was the first time that one of her pupils had appeared at the Royal Opera House. “To be able to have this opportunity to be on the Royal Opera House stage at his age and mix with the stars of the company is brilliant. It is rare and he does have a talent. He’s responding very well to the extra teaching and making progress.”
As an associate, Tyler trains with the Royal Ballet School every fortnight at their studio in Covent Garden, as well as several lessons a week with Mrs Cooke.
Like the famous ballet dancer of film and literature, Billy Elliot, Tyler is the only boy in his ballet class.
Tyler gets lots of support from his parents and his mum Tracey Carey said she was proud of her son’s achievements. “He works very hard and sometimes, if there’s a weekend where there’s a party, Finn will go but Tyler knows he has to go down to London to train,” she said.
In January, Tyler will audition to keep his place as an associate of the Royal Ballet School and from there he could be accepted into White Lodge, a boarding school for young dancers.
Copyright © 2009 Archant Regional Ltd
Related article: Ballet dream comes true for Norfolk’s Billy Elliott
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