Swan Lake: My Journey of Devotion to Classical Dance
Swan Lake, performed in November 1986 at the Romanian Opera in Cluj-Napoca, was the first step of a great journey for me. Every year in high school, I won first place in the National Competition on Trades (later to become the National Olympiad), and I graduated from high school, specializing in choreography, as the top student. I entered the Faculty of Philology in first place. I was 18 years old.
It was the first time in the history of the Romanian Opera in Cluj-Napoca that a new graduate was given the chance to debut in Swan Lake without having previously danced a role in the ballet ensemble. Hopes, doubts, curiosity, envy, goodwill—all the facets of theatre life floated around the long-awaited event.
The belief of my family and my ballet teacher, Mrs. Larissa Șorban, that I was destined to manifest the art of classical dance as a prima ballerina was likely the deciding factor. I knew that if the performance was a success, I would continue my journey into classical ballet. If not, I would have to focus solely on college. Both options appealed to me.
Certainly, the desire to pass the baton to a new generation was so overwhelming for Mrs. Larissa Șorban that she overcame every written and unwritten barrier in the theatre. With her fiery personality, she convinced directors, conductors, and ballet masters, finally managing to impose her point of view and, especially, her artistic taste. Her argument, "such talent is only born once in a hundred years," and her encouragement to the leaders, "Take the chance!" secured the opera's management's approval to allow me to debut in Swan Lake in November 1986.
Madame Larissa, who had become Șorban through her marriage to the art critic Raoul Șorban, was charmingly intelligent, quick-witted, and unbeatable. She never forgave the slightest weakness. Any mistake was immediately, irredeemably, and relentlessly sanctioned, though always with humor and grace. It was impossible to win any argument with her. She was the prima ballerina of the Romanian Opera in Cluj, dancing until the age of 53. A self-taught dancer, she learned classical dance from Soviet films shown in Cluj cinemas, watching them repeatedly until she memorized the choreography. She intuitively sought out teachers and managed to win the gold medal at the Moscow Ballet Competition in 1957 in the pas de deux from Don Quixote with Gabriel Popescu. Born in Austria to a Jewish father and a Russian mother, Larissa Șorban survived the Nazi ghetto and, by a twist of fate, arrived in post-war Romania, a foreign country whose language she did not speak, without parents or relatives.
"I am Jewish when everyone is against the Jews. Having only a Jewish father, I can't be recognized as Jewish. I'm Russian when everyone is against the Russians. As a Russian, I can't be recognized, having only a Russian mother. I am Romanian. But I have never suffered because of these things," Larissa once said.
According to her, it was she who had me to thank for appearing in the world of dance, giving her peace of mind and the contentment to hand over her personal baton. She lived another 13 years after my debut in Swan Lake, studying three more major roles of the classical ballet repertoire with me: Giselle, Don Quixote, and Coppélia, and rejoiced in each of my successes as if they were her own.
Of course, Mrs. Larissa's plan found favorable echoes in my parents and even more so in me, as the success of the plan would determine my future: either as a prima ballerina or as a Romanian language teacher.
This turning point in my existence marked my life as a continuous oscillation between extremes and a constant search for balance. Could it be a sign?
Larissa's intelligence was beginning to pay off: the partner was found, the director was convinced, and I was working tirelessly. Florin Brândușă, prima ballerina at the Romanian Opera in Bucharest, accepted my father's invitation to be my partner in my debut performance, to everyone's surprise, and came to Cluj to study the role with me.
The rehearsals were picturesque, taking place in various halls of the Opera, sometimes among musical instruments in the rehearsal rooms of the instrumentalists or among theatre sets in rooms reserved for the actors' troupe of the National Theatre, an institution that shared the same building with the Romanian Opera. Often, we would devote an entire rehearsal to one passage, with a lively rhythm. Long discussions followed at my home, around tables specially prepared by my mother and decorated with her impeccable taste. Florin's and Larissa's humor competed for priority, their sparkling dialogue relaxing us all. Amidst jokes and stories, we would return to analyzing the previous rehearsal, redefining the goals, discussing the way partners should interact, musicality, and the phrasing of movement. It was the first time I understood that movement could also be phrased, in a way similar to spoken text.
I was beginning to apply in practice what, 36 years later, I would theorize with the LMA concept (Laban's concept of motion), according to which any movement can be analyzed by the relationship between function and expression.
Florin Brândușă was the first and one of the best stage partners of my entire career, not only because of his height and physical strength, but especially because of his belief that the dance partner must be protected and supported. His "elephant memory," as Mrs. Larissa called it, retained even the minutest choreographic details of the partner's role. We had no video, no written score. I was shown what to do, and I absorbed it like a sponge.
Late autumn in Transylvania can be very cold. In 1986, the snow arrived earlier than usual. The heating pipes at the opera house, caught by surprise by the unexpected frost, cracked, and all work was suspended indefinitely. Anyone else might have postponed the performance, but not Mrs. Larissa. With gloves and socks over my pointe shoes, a sweater over my tutu, and in a room at 3-4 degrees Celsius, we rehearsed the variations from Swan Lake every day.
Her Cossack discipline, the depth of her Slavic spirit, and her indestructible conviction in the art of dance were unbeatable. Neither cold nor any other natural or social obstacle stood a chance against her. "Out of solidarity with you, I'll take off my coat during the rehearsal...it's not pedagogical to ask you to make a sacrifice that I myself am not capable of making," she would say.
Many people claim that the Odette-Odile roles represent a chance to reach the pinnacle of female performance in classical ballet. Opposite in aesthetic temperament, they are in a dynamic balance that demands constant extrapolation. In addition to lyrical and dramatic acting talent, a solid technique of balance and turning is required. The dual role demands a certain physical structure of maximum elasticity and endurance—or, in sports language, the ability to operate in Full Range of Motion (at maximum amplitude, with maximum force).
The suspense of the action builds gradually throughout Act I, when, against expectations, Prince Siegfried prefers hunting to choosing a fiancée.
The appearance of the White Swan in Act II intensifies the mystery, and its glide to the middle of the stage creates surprise and amazement. For the first time, while hunting with his courtiers and jesters, Prince Siegfried sees something unreal, immaculate, maiden-like, yet bearing the markings of a swan. Torn from the human kingdom, cursed by Rothbart, and forced to exist as a swan until a prince swears eternal love to her, Odette confesses her sadness by the lake.
Odette appears in Acts II and IV, so she has more time to capture the audience's interest than Odile. The entirety of Act II is a tour de force for the lead, Odette, both physically and mentally.
The White Swan's first appearance on stage, as a monologue about sadness, loneliness, and a cursed destiny, is always full of emotions. Despite this, it must be well articulated, giving the first impression of the ballerina...and since the first impression cannot happen twice, it is advisable to repeat the moment on stage, even briefly, before the beginning of Act II (when there is a pause between the two acts) to refresh it as a technical execution and emotional experience.
In Danovschi's choreographic version, the first appearance of the White Swan on stage, with its typical bourrée steps and port des bras, is like a reflection of her in the lake's water.
The sense of reflection in the water of her own image as a swan suggests a mixture of the real and the fantastic, of the undulation and constant oscillation between the human, plant, and animal kingdoms. To prepare for the moment, a preliminary reading of verses such as those from Ion Noja’s "Marine": "Through my nights with Adriatic seas / Flocks of fantastic birds fly / Luminescent falls of jellyfish come / Circles of souls, ellipses of lips" can give the movement its faltering tenderness.
Held captive in a swan's body by the evil spirit Rothbart, the bewitched princess recognizes and relives her humanity only through her encounter with Siegfried. Looking at herself reflected in the water and seeing her maiden spirit trapped in a bird's body, she recalls the spell in which she is trapped. The encounter with a human being, though initially filled with great fear and reluctance, awakens Odette's hope that the spell can be broken, that her life can take a different course than Rothbart had planned. The play of glances between the partners, their eye contact—or more precisely, the avoidance of glances—can be an interpretative option in suggesting states of mind such as wonder, awe, tenderness, and fear.
The second scene is related to the presentation of the other companions in suffering, the 24 swans. The whole legato of the second act culminates in the long Odette-Siegfried adagio, or the possible harmony of the couple. It is one of the most beautiful love duets in the classical ballet repertoire. The complementarity of the couple's suggestive, dreamlike movement is so perfect that it truly seems from another world.
A chain of one-legged walks and maximum extensions of body, legs, and arms in a legato fluid, accompanied by a slightly syncopated tremolo of the head, enhances the lyricism of the performance. They require high physical stamina for the ballerina and strength and adaptability for the partner. During the duet, the dancers’ two bodies tend to become one, the most difficult part to achieve. The variation and coda of the White Swan come as an echo of the duet, the difficulty being to render the state of flight without a partner. I shortened the linking time between the adagio, variation, and coda in rehearsals to increase the chances of stamina during the performance.
Is it "Odette" who, through the love of a noble-blooded earthling, is "humanized," or is it Siegfried who rises to the high spheres of fantasy through the intensity of his feeling? It is, in a way, an inverted Luceafărul... Odette is like the Luceafăr, who fluidly and ingenuously "lights" the way, while Siegfried is the one who dreams, following her.
I evoke here with emotion and great respect a teacher dear to my heart, Mrs. Ioana Em. Petrescu, who could have become the greatest philologist of the Faculty of Letters in Cluj, had death not snatched her from us so early. It was she who, during her fascinating classes on Eminescu in my first year as a literature student, encouraged me to continue dancing, telling me that she felt the same emotion watching me dance as she did when she saw Baryshnikov perform.
These are guiding motivations for performers. I believe that affinity with poetry can open the path to artistic inspiration and serve as a source of inspiration by relating its metaphorical meaning and the musicality of its verses to the interpretive state of choreographic movement.
With the help of Mrs. Larissa, who drew my attention to the aspects of my dance that bothered her in Act II, I managed to veil them in such a way that the viewer's eye focused on my strengths rather than my shortcomings.
From the seraphic and poetic lyricism of the White Swan to the vain and mysterious voluptuousness of the Black Swan, focusing on what I had, rather than constantly focusing on what I still lacked, was vital. The rendering of the dramatic disjunction between love and destiny, the shifts between different planes of sensibility, could only be sustained by a meticulous dosing of physical and mental effort in the presentation of technical virtuosity.
Sometimes it is overlooked that the White Swan is the one on which the narrative and performance are based as a carrier of meaning and significance, while the Black Swan serves as the counterpoint where the plot culminates. Ideally, the characters appear as antonyms: Good-Evil, Light-Dark, Pure-Devil, Real-Fantasy. The duality of the swan is concretized with the appearance of the Black Swan: Odile, or Swan-Woman, as opposed to Odette: Swan-Girl. Odile appears only in Act III, surprisingly and poignantly, and could be characterized by the dictum "veni, vidi, vici." She is the disguise of evil in the attractive. As Oleg Danovschi argued, she is neither coquettish nor vulgar; she has an evil mission to accomplish. She has exactly one pas de deux at her disposal—adagio, variation, and coda with the 32 incandescent fouetté—so about 10 minutes of stage time, after which she leaves the stage with imperative detachment, changing the course of the action irrevocably.
The technical performance in this act is rightly considered a test of the ballerina’s strength. The role must be practiced every day and under great fatigue to increase the chances of success in performance. The difficulty is not in performing 32 fouetté in general, but in performing them at that moment, after the second act, and at the end of the pas de deux!
The audience eagerly awaits the climax when Siegfried is convinced and decides to swear eternal love to the Black Swan, believing her to be the same pure and innocent being he encountered by the lake. Like a thunderbolt, once the vow is made, Rothbart and Odile reveal their true identities, disappearing spectacularly, leaving the queen and her entire court in shock and a prince running desperately in search of lost love.
The end of the second coda of the Black Swan pas de deux holds a symbolic memory for me: the last arabesque (pose par terre in the third arabesque) of the diagonal was, according to Mrs. Larissa, the first moment when my personality found its way to the essence of the character; the role was roaring from somewhere deep inside and making its impetuous presence felt. She noticed it immediately, delightedly revealed it to me, and that magical state remained forever anchored in my artistic interpretation. I often returned to it in moments of artistic doubt and searching.
Act IV continues the lyricism of Act II. The elegy of the captive swans, who suffer together with Odette from the betrayal of the prince, accentuates the drama with its tragic ending (except in Danovschi's version, where the ending is a happy one). The focus is on the struggle of the two protagonists, Odette and Siegfried, against Rothbart. In some versions, they survive because of love; in others, they do not.
But what has survived for more than 100 years is the ingenious combination of story, music, choreography, and famous roles, thanks to the great performers who have both ennobled them and been ennobled by them.
The long-awaited date of my debut in the legendary role in Swan Lake finally arrived. My costumes, rented from Bucharest (being created for prima ballerina Anne-Marie Vretos) courtesy of Florin Brândușă, arrived, makeup was done by a lovely volunteer from the chorus, even nature seemed to cooperate as the cold subsided, the hall of the Romanian Opera in Cluj-Napoca was packed, and finally, the curtain rose.
A deep silence filled the hall. The dance and the music crossed their paths towards the magical field that unites the artist with the audience, a field under whose fascination I was to enter frantically on that day of November 24, 1986, and remain forever...
In a way, I started preparing for this role as a child in the Olympic gymnastics team, where I learned that the desire to stay on the beam is stronger than the fear of falling. Later, master Vasile Solomon taught me not to fall off pointe, and Mrs. Larissa Șorban taught me the secret of how to keep a smile on my face even during the 32 fouetté...
Odette and Odile were beginning to take an interest in me.
I have great respect for this role. I took my Diploma exams with these characters, I started my professional career and ended it with them, and although I danced them in various choreographies, companies, and with various partners on different continents, Swan Lake remains for me a test of my insight, which I have gratefully accepted over the years. Always, always, facing the same opponents for 21 years of my career; getting to know them gets deeper and deeper, and you don’t start the fight from the beginning, but rather pick up where you left off. After hundreds of battles, you know the pitfalls, you take the dangers into account, and carefully build your success.
The secret of success in meeting the role depends on synchronizing the frequency of one's own vibrations on several planes—physical, mental, and spiritual—with the high vibrations of the role.
The photos below are taken at the same moment of the ballet. Teacher and student. I want to believe the splinter didn’t jump far from the torso.
Ms. Larissa Șorban, Francisc Zsigmond, and Marin Turcu in Swan Lake choreographed by Oleg Danovschi at the Romanian Opera in Cluj-Napoca in 1975. Photo@Szabo Dénes
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Simona Noja, Francisc Strnad, and Oleg Danovschi Jr. in the same choreography at the Ballet Theatre "Fantasio" in Constanța in 1987
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Here are a few articles about Odette-Odile's approach to the role:
"The latest poster of the Romanian Opera announces the debut of ballerina Simona Noja in the role of Odette-Odile in Swan Lake. But if the audience usually comes to a debut performance willing to make concessions, this time such... feelings were not necessary. Simona Noja presented herself as an artist of high standing, capable of elevating her performance to the level of a celebration. The spectator, accustomed to artists of great value, may wonder—rightly—why so much power of persuasion in a performer just out of her teens? From a miraculous yet naïve Odette, it is natural to move on to an Odile that dominates the imaginative force of the enigmatic. Let’s add that the young performer so confidently and easily overcomes the most difficult elements of classical virtuosity that she completely spares us those negative emotions we often feel when faced with great variations. Simona's 32 fouetté are performed with such precision and grace that it’s as if you’re watching a prima ballerina who has performed on the most prestigious stages. Here we find it necessary to make a due clarification. Just as a tenor without a B-flat cannot be considered a prima-tenor, neither can a ballerina without 32 fouetté be a prima ballerina. Simona Noja, however, juggles with this 'B flat.”
"The Cluj performance of Swan Lake is not new: on the contrary, it has been on the posters of the Romanian Opera for several decades, as befits an opera house that honors its calling card. We are sometimes the soloists who try our luck in this masterpiece of choreographic art. With a partially renovated cast, the Romanian Opera of Cluj-Napoca recently presented a performance of Swan Lake that became a highlight of the season with the exceptional debut of Simona Noja as Odette-Odile, the appearance of Florin Brândușă—a Cluj native who has moved to Constanța—as Siegfried, and the very young Ioan Dorin Coșeriu (also making his debut) as the Jester. (...) With this performance, the Romanian Opera launches through Simona Noja not just a ballerina in the narrow sense of the word, but an authentic sensibility, supported by a special technical certainty, always the same, no matter how difficult the choreographic combinations approached. It was not the technical performances, nor the virtuoso passages—which delighted the audience—but the subordination of these means to the poetic and dramatic sense of the role that gave her debut its value. A maturity of attitude that leads her to leave nothing to chance or free fantasy ensures Simona Noja the precision of her effects..."
"The recent success of the young ballerina Simona Noja in the title role of Swan Lake did not take us by surprise: for several years now we have praised, on various occasions, the talent of this budding star of the Cluj choreography school. This time, however, at the age of 18 and only a few months after graduating from the Art High School, Simona Noja tackles a key role for the affirmation of any prima ballerina, a role that concentrates the summum of specialist knowledge through which rigorous classical training can be tested. The true artistic maturity exam taken on the stage of the Romanian Opera in Cluj-Napoca was passed with flying colors: overcoming the outdated conventionality of the stage development inherited from the last century, the main actress knew how to highlight her dynamic personality—combining both technical strengths and a dose of intelligent detachment and lucidity towards the character. This balance, combined with a harmonious physical presence, generates a positive, one might say, tonic reaction among the audience, more in keeping with the expectations of the modern audience. It is gratifying that, after quite some time, a major talent has decided (had the opportunity and succeeded) to link her debut success to the city that trains, year after year, half of our country's new choreographic forces. (...) In the opinion of this reviewer, Simona Noja's success under the auspices of Tchaikovskian classicism should only be a premise for further refinements and openings towards diversified choreographic horizons. The young ballerina's intelligence and talent, her appetite for a more complex cultural training (after graduating from high school, she passed the entrance exam to the Faculty of Philology of the University of Cluj), these are just a few facts that herald a career worthy of all interest in this difficult field of art."
"A new Ileana Iliescu!" exclaimed some of the ballet lovers (and connoisseurs) present in the Romanian Opera Hall in Bucharest last Wednesday at the performance of Swan Lake—a performance that combined the interest generated by the 70th birthday of the choreographer, Oleg Danovski, and the evolution, in the difficult double role Odette-Odile, of the ballerina Simona Noja from the Romanian Opera in Cluj-Napoca. The comparison with one of the stars of Romanian ballet is all the more laudatory as it refers, of course, to the image of Ileana Iliescu at the height of her career, when her experience in interpreting the two swans was measured in dozens and dozens of performances—while Simona Noja is only 19 years old (she graduated last year from the Choreography High School in Cluj-Napoca, where she worked with teacher Vasile Solomon), Swan Lake was her debut (on 24 November 1986, on the stage of the Romanian Opera in Cluj-Napoca), and the performance in Bucharest was only her third. However, her extraordinary talent was noticed at school, when Simona Noja consistently won first prize in the last four years of the Crafts Competition and in the last two editions of the national 'Cântarea României' Festival. And the success of this debut performance is due in no small part to the fact that, patiently and skillfully exploiting the remarkable qualities of the very young ballerina, a great master of the choreographic scene in Cluj, Larissa Șorban, guided her first steps in what promises to be a brilliant career."
“To play the character of Odette-Odile in *Swan Lake* at the age of 18, when for many ballerinas it represents the pinnacle of a career, is, let's face it, an exceptional feat. It is a performance to be celebrated in itself. The artist behind this remarkable achievement is Simona Noja, a soloist with the Romanian Opera in Cluj-Napoca, at an age when the vast majority of choreographic high school graduates begin their apprenticeship in ensembles. The premiere took place in November in Cluj-Napoca, and on February 4th, Simona Noja will perform as a guest in the lead role of the famous Tchaikovsky ballet on the stage of the Bucharest Opera. This performance carries a double significance, as it coincides with the celebration of master Oleg Danovski's 70th birthday—a man to whom Romanian choreographic art owes an enormous debt. This event not only confirms the value of the young soloist but also symbolizes a meeting between generations in the field of art.
Under this significant emblem, Simona Noja's performance was at its best. I was first and foremost impressed by the confidence and maturity with which she approached the role. No technical procedure seemed too difficult, no figure, however complicated, made her hesitate. The strong-legged ballerina, with a surprisingly effective way of working her poise—she seemed to simply screw herself into the floor—executed the entire choreographic 'score' with clean style and verve. More interestingly, in the pas de deux and the Act III variation, she incorporated personal elements that suited her temperament and vigorous style of interpretation. In this act, we witnessed the famous series of fouetté, distinguished not only by its number—over 32, including the last double—but also by its accuracy. Precisely because she is a great talent, it’s important not to forget that she is also perfectible. Simona Noja is a diamond that the jeweler has yet to fully polish to reveal its full purity and beauty.
The Romanian Opera and the National Theatre experienced a rich autumn, shared with us, the spectators. The debut performance of *Swan Lake* was a welcome addition to this cultural season. Even more remarkable was the performance itself, which became a delightful surprise while aligning with a series of successful productions. An eager, receptive, and warm audience watched Simona Noja perform Odette-Odile. For the audience, Simona Noja’s performance was an opportunity to discover and recognize a true talent. A former gymnast at Deva, an outstanding student at the Cluj High School of Choreography, and a constant first-prize winner at national craft competitions, Simona Noja was already more than a promise. On the evening of her debut, she surpassed herself. The roles were thought out down to the smallest nuance. Only years of hard work, effort, concentration, and ultimately sacrifice could lead to such a natural, harmonious, and artistically interpreted performance.
Her entrance on stage was executed in a manner that captured the attention and admiration of the audience, promising everything in a moment of dedication. Not a twitch, not a moment of uncertainty. Delicate and discreet, with natural charm, she combined mature distinction with the freshness of her figure. Simona Noja demonstrated great professionalism, precision, elegance, and complexity in her stage play. The ethereal, fragile, and diaphanous White Swan was followed by the explosive, dynamic, and exuberant Black Swan. These two highly suggestive, antagonistic, yet complementary characters were masterfully portrayed. We would praise her performance further if not for the anticipation of what Simona Noja’s future artistry will bring. The artist's conscious and deliberate choice of this performance may represent both the beginning and the climax of her career. Tchaikovsky's music, the temptation to match famous names, and the generous, open roles were all arguments enough for a debutant eager to test her strengths, and Simona Noja did so with profound artistry.
The famous fouettés were performed in a perfect chain and rhythm—energetic, explosive, and fluid. Her evolution on stage was an oxymoronic blend of fragility and strength, subtle impetuosity, security, and anxiety. The Cluj ballet school has not abandoned its traditions. Once again, it has managed to transform a promising fact into a certainty. We welcome Simona Noja as a talent in whom we can trust.”
The Seven Choreographic Versions of *Swan Lake* Throughout My Career:
- Oleg Danovschi's version from the Romanian Opera in Cluj-Napoca (partners: Brândușă), Romanian Opera in Bucharest (partners: Brândușă and Valsami), and Fantasio company (partner: Strnad).
- Pavel Rotaru's version from Atlanta (partner: Valsami).
- Royal Swedish Ballet version.
- Heinz Spoerli's version from Basel and Düsseldorf (partners: Guinea, Vanaev).
- Ray Barra's version from Deutsche Oper Berlin (partner: Dubinin).
- Nureyev's version at the Vienna State Opera (partners: Hatala, Malakhov, Picone, Solymosi, Wagner) and on tour on the Côte d'Azur, France (partner: Jean-Guillaume Bart).
- Bourmeister's version with La Scala in Milan on tour in Mexico City, Auditorio Nacional.
Once I started my professional career, not from the top rungs of a steep ladder, but from somewhere near the top, I encountered the same difficulties Yehudi Menuhin spoke of. These challenges can arise when one is projected to great heights in their career without the solid foundation that time and experience can provide. If one is not aware of the danger, flying at great heights can become fatal. Similar to the great violinist, I too had to build my career edifice from the top down. In this context, a smaller role, like that of the Fairy in *Cinderella*, played a beneficial role in building the foundation in reverse.
"...A delightful and charming appearance: Simona Noja, in a role different in billing and scope—the Good Fairy. Of course, this role also represents a step forward for the young and talented ballerina from Cluj, a step forward on the road to perfection and artistic excellence."
"Shortly after the resounding success of her double leading role in *Swan Lake* at the Romanian Opera in Bucharest, Simona Noja—the young and talented soloist of the Romanian Opera in Cluj-Napoca—performed again on the country’s main stage in the role of the Fairy in the ballet *Cinderella*, created with the Fantasio company by the same great master of Romanian choreography, Oleg Danovschi."
*Swan Lake* was a great first step in my ballerina career—more like a big leap. It propelled me directly into the professional world of classical dance as a prima ballerina. Fortunately, with Mrs. Larissa by my side, along with the support of my parents and a few dear friends, I managed during my four years at the Romanian Opera in Cluj to maintain my student status at the Faculty of Letters.
Other significant roles from the classical ballet repertoire followed, such as **Don Quixote, Giselle, Coppélia**, and **Carmen**. The artistic journey continues to be as fascinating as its beginning. (excerpt from Simona Noja-Nebyla´s Ballet Life on the Open Stage, Reflexions)
