Curtain up.

Evil, in real life, is something to be dreaded, avoided, and condemned. But in narrative ballets it is often a theatrical necessity and a challenge to performers--plus, a touch of spice. Virtue would have no impact if it didn't triumph over evil. In ballets like Swan Lake and The Sleeping Beauty, we can relish evil portrayed as outrageous mythical figures and reassure ourselves that evil is a foreign force, not something from within.

And yet we all have evil impulses--which, hopefully, we keep in check. It's much more fun to fantasize about revenge than to act on it. Why else do we have so such a good time dressing up for Halloween--as witches, as the Scream People, or as Freddy Kruger?

Evil, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. In this issue, Senior Editor Allan Ulrich muses on the nature of evil and how that plays out in dance. Like the musical Wicked, he shows that some people have wickedness thrust upon them--and he has a sinfully good time writing about them. In our interviews with New York City Ballet's Merrill Ashley, American Ballet Theatre's Victor Barbee, and Pacific Northwest Ballet's Olivier Wevers--three dancers who excel at portraying evil roles--we learn how they dig inside themselves to come up with a convincing portrayal of wickedness.

Whether evil or virtuous, every character role benefits from a terrific costume. Merrill Ashley's costume for Carabosse, festooned with petrified lace as lethal as a black widow spider, helps her "turn malicious into delicious," in the words of our writer Joe Carman.

In "New Takes on Classic Costumes," we look at seven great ballet costumes and ask the dancers who wear them how they feel dancing inside them. And we tell you where you can find similar outfits--and make your performance even more convincing.

Sylviane Gold's "On Broadway" column is always witty and informative. But this month she rises to a level of eloquence that could wring your heart. When talking about the upcoming PBS special Broadway: The American Musical, she captures something very personal about memory, about the surge of emotion we feel when encountering a stirring art experience at a tender age. Yes, it's like young love, and it never happens exactly like that again.

WENDY PERRON, EDITOR IN CHIEF