ro3‘July 16, 1866.“Ah, six! well, let us go up and see it. You can show me the way.”I meet George Balanchine backstage at the New York State Theatre during an intermission of one of the season's first ballets. It's not hard to guess which man is Balanchine from a distance because, as usual, he is surrounded by young dancers. When he turns to face me, I see that he is dressed simply but with a touch of European elegance. The man is small of stature and quite frail in appearance. His English is strongly accented yet easy to understand. A smile seems to be forever playing on his lips, and when he converses with someone, he gives that person his full, undivided attention.Ĥˤδ֪ΤΤ̽󤷤Ȥ򳣤˳֤äƤ˼ޤg`ʤһN̽Ǥro3
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