Lincoln Kirstein, 1907-1996.

NEW YORK CITY--When Lincoln Kirstein raced out of the Metropolitan Opera House immediately after a dress rehearsal of the Kirov Ballet's production of Theme and Variations in 1989, Francia Russell panicked. "I thought, `Oh my God, was it that bad?'" recalled Russell, who staged the ballet on the Kirov, the first time a Russian company performed George Balanchine's choreography since he came to the United States. When Kirstein rushed back in, it was not harsh criticism but a copy of his book, Nijinsky Dancing, that the New York City Ballet cofounder offered to Russell. "He inscribed the book, `Thank you for bringing Balanchine back to his home,'" the former New York City Ballet ballerina and ballet mistress remembered. "What this showed is that he understood my whole motivation. Lincoln understood that it meant a lot to me. That's the way he was. I think lots of people have stories like

Russell, coartistic director with Kent Stowell of Pacific Northwest Ballet, is right. Kirstein's death of natural causes on January 5 [See Obituaries, page 104] prompted an outpouring of testimonials for the cofounder of NYCB and the School of American Ballet from many of today's ballet leaders. "If Lincoln hadn't had the vision that ballet could become an important art form in this country," said Russell, "none of us would be here." Edward Villelia, another City Ballet alumnus, now heading Miami City Ballet, concurs with Russell and goes one step further: "He really set it up for all of us, not just in the classical world, but for all the other dance explosions that followed. [He] raised the visibility of dance in general."

Kirstein's impact was not just on the grand level, but the intimate as well. "The first time I staged the Nutcracker children all by myself," Russell said, "Lincoln was the only person who thought of coming backstage to see me. Lincoln came running backstage and said, `The children have never performed so well. Congratulations, Francia.'" He could be bitingly humorous as well, she said, recalling the occasion when Stowell, at Kirstein's request, introduced him to children's book author and illustrator Maurice Sendak, who designed Stowell's Nutcracker. "Lincoln looked straight at him and said, 'I always wondered why the people you draw are so short and unattractive. Now I know --[it's] because they look like you.' Fortunately, Maurice thought it was funny."

On a more profound level, former City Ballet principal Daniel Duell described a visit by Kirstein to the hospital where Duell was convalescing from a back problem. "I commented to him that with so much time to think, I was having many dawnings of revelations, and his rejoinder was, `Nobody ever learns anything except out of desperation.'" Speaking in a throaty voice, obviously shaken by Kirstein's death, Duell added, "He was really a mentor; he was a formidable and heartening presence for us all. He felt very much--truly--like the heartbeat of the operation, along with Mr. Balanchine."

Kirstein was part of the heartbeat of the arts in general, recalled Barbara Horgan, trustee and general administrator of the George Balanchine Trust. "Mr. Kirstein was a visionary, in a way that I don't see anymore in other people. He had such an impact on so many people's lives in all of the creative arts, not to mention architecture and the establishment of different kinds of archival libraries." Former NYCB principal Helgi Tomasson, now artistic director of San Francisco Ballet, agreed. "He did so much for not only ballet in this count " said Tomasson. "I don't know if there are giants like that anymore." Kirstein arranged for Tomasson to meet W. McNeil Lowry, the former vice president of the Ford Foundation who spearheaded that charity's $7.7 million grant program to eight ballet companies, including City Ballet and SFB, in 1967. After Tomasson took over at SFB, Kirstein arranged for the two to meet in New York, and that meeting led to Lowry's going to San Francisco as president of San Francisco Ballet Association. "Setting up [that] meeting for me with Mac . . . was typical Lincoln, doing things behind the scene. It was his way of working: suggesting things, encouraging things, that would lead to other things: he was someone who was able to envision ideas way before anybody else could."

Villelia also benefited from Kirstein's encouragement. "He was phenomenally encouraging when I attempted to return to ballet" after four years away, he said. "I did not have parental approval for becoming a ballet dancer, so I owe him a debt. Lincoln [could] seem ... fierce, but once you got to know him, he was a wonderfully gentle and generous man ... who had incredible dimension." And left an incredible legacy: "His sense of the art form, his sense of the human beings involved in it, relationships, behavior, his generosity. Those were terrific lessons for all of us. I don't think any of us would be dealing in our field if not for him."

On Friday, January 5, before that evening's performance of Balanchine's Serenade, NYCB ballet master in chief Peter Martins took the stage, holding a bottle of vodka and the glass he said Kirstein had used when he joined Martins for a drink at the end of each day. "We have lost our founder, a great friend and our father," said Martins, his voice cracking, before inviting the audience to have a glass of vodka on the company after the performance. "It would please me very much if you all would raise your glass and pay tribute to this man who brought us all here." An appropriate toast might have been this summation by Villella: "Lincoln has given me a lifetime."