Still beautiful and going strong.

New York City Ballet principal Nichol Hlinka looks back on her career on the eve of her retirement--and at the start of a marriage.

It's hard to believe that the girlish woman in practice clothes with the ready smile and wayward wisps of hair is thirty-eight. Or that she's a ballerina, intensely musical, with the lightness of a sylph and the ever-vernal charm of a soubrette, a virtuoso who takes your breath away but is always her own unassuming self. Nichol Hlinka joined New York City Ballet in 1975 as a fifteen-year-old wunderkind. She became a principal dancer in 1990; in 1995 she choreographed her first ballet, Three American Pieces, for the School of American Ballet. Her repertory includes some of Balanchine's most glorious ballets--Divertimento from Le Baiser de la Fee, La Source, Theme and Variations, Serenade, Tschaikovsky Pas de Deux, Donizetti Variations, Brahms-Schoenburg Quartet, Square Dance--as well as The Sleeping Beauty.

L.G.: You say you plan to retire at the end of the spring season. Why?

N.H.: It's been on my mind since last summer in Saratoga. I spent a lot of time thinking about it, and I decided that the best time to retire was when I could still dance at a high level. I also want to pursue other things.

L.G.: Like what?

N.H.: I hope to work in ballet in another capacity, possibly with Mr. B's ballets or teaching children or choreographing.

L.G.: You were married recently. Did that influence your decision?

N.H.: Well, yes, I do want time to spend with my husband [Bob Love, an editor at Rolling Stone], and that's hard when you're a performer.

L.G.: I've always been curious about Hlinka. What kind of name is that?

N.H.: It's Slavic-Russian. My grandparents on my father's side were from Slovakia and on my mother's side from Italy. So I'm half Slavic-Russian and half Italian. I was brought up in Closter, a small town in northern New Jersey. I was a real student. I loved school and had wonderful grades. It was my mom who put me in ballet classes when I was about seven. I don't remember much. Then I went to a ballet camp run by Istvdn Rabovsky, who was Hungarian. For the first time I realized how much you had to work and what it was to apply yourself. That's when I began to think of dance as a future.

It was my mom who decided to try the School of American Ballet. I was small, only four feet eleven (I later grew four more inches), and New York City Ballet was for tall, long-limbed women. But my mom had heard it was a marvelous school. So I went for an audition. It was with Antonina Turnkovsky, and she remembers it to this day, because I was really tiny and because of the transformation that took place when I started to turn and jump. That's when they decided to take a chance on me. I was thirteen.

I had great teachers. My first classes were with Madame [Helene] Dudin, Madame Turnkovsky--you see, we still call them "Madame" after all these years--Muriel Stuart, and Elise Reiman. Then I moved into Level B2. That was an amazing year, because I had Madame [Felia] Doubrovska as a teacher and one class a week with Madame [Alexandra] Danilova. Those women were a huge influence on my life. They were of a different era. They had an air about them. They taught us that ballet class wasn't just about steps and technique; it was about the way you carried yourself, the way you moved, the way you acted--all the time. They were grooming you to be a ballerina. And their stories--about Diaghilev and every body--were fantastic! Later, I studied with Stanley Williams, who taught adagio class and gave us some great training in the Bournonville style. Finally, there was Suki Schorer. She was the voice of New York City Ballet at the school, of what Balanchine would want when you got into the company.

And Balanchine himself was around. He would come to workshop rehearsals; he would coach you and talk to you. When I did Concerto Barocco--that was in 1975, my graduating year--he gave me some direction, although I didn't really know him yet. A week later, I became an apprentice. I was an apprentice for maybe two weeks, when I was cast to do the lead Butterfly in A Midsummer Night's Dream in Saratoga.

When I first got into New York City Ballet I thought I would be tracked as a soubrette--you know, like Pierrette in Harlequinade--petite, cute, sweet. But I was lucky: Balanchine thought of me as Patty McBride; he saw that there was a side of me that was dramatic. He started grooming me quickly. I was put into everything, all the corps parts someone my size could do. Today, there are a lot of ballets that short girls can do. Back then, I couldn't be in the corps of La Source or Barocco, which used taller girls. Elise Flagg, Laura Flagg, and I were the only small girls in the company.

When I was seventeen, Patty, who was never injured, got sick, and she had to cancel one performance of Harlequinade, so Mr. B asked me to come in. He sat there all day and taught me the ballet--from morning to night. I was a wreck. And really young. I had never kissed a man in my life, and now I had to kiss Jean-Pierre Bonnefoux--upside down. I couldn't, I just couldn't. Finally, it dawned on Mr. B that I didn't know how to kiss a man.

You have to realize what faith we had in him. We believed that if he believed we could do something we could do it. That night he was in the wings for the whole performance, giving me advice and talking to me. It wasn't a terrifying experience, because he was there.

L.G.: After that, did you share the ballet with Patricia McBride?

N.H.: No. Back then, ballerinas didn't share their roles. There were no understudies, no second casts; but occasionally, Balanchine would give other people a chance.

I was around eighteen or nineteen when it all became too much. Balanchine wanted me to start moving forward and had talked to me about dancing with Misha [Mikhail Baryshnikov]. Emotionally, I wasn't ready. So I became injured. It happens to a lot of gifted young dancers. They can handle the pressure, but only for so long. I didn't feel I had lived enough to perform at the emotional level of the principals I admired. And we used to dance so much. We were on every night, three ballets a night.

I was injured for three years. I had knee surgery. The operation was called an arthroscopy, and it was supposed to heal in six weeks. But it didn't. So I had to have a second surgery. Then I fractured a vertebra in my back and lost feeling in my legs. All because I was trying too hard.

My generation was the first to have sports medicine. Before Marika Molnar began to work with the company, we never had therapy--none. You danced until you couldn't, and then you were injured, and then when you felt better you went back. Now we actually started doing things for our bodies. Without therapy, I might never have come back.

I returned in 1982. Mr. B was great. He gave me a beautiful ballet, Norwegian Moods by Lew Christensen, for the Stravinsky Centennial Celebration that year. It was scary: three years off the stage and then walking back on. I felt that it was his gift to me for making it back.

Mr. B really honored what was going on in your life. He taught me that being an artist was more than taking class or doing steps; it was your life. When we were in Paris, he'd say, "Now, did you go to this museum? Did you see the Rodins?" He wanted us to open our eyes to everything around us, which would become part of our existence as artists.

Then we lost Mr. B. It was devastating. Some dancers left; they felt, without him, why? And then there were those of us who loved his ballets so much that we stayed. I started to learn from Peter Martins, who had become the company's co-ballet master in chief. Now, Peter's approach to us was different from Mr. B's. With Peter, you had to find your own identity and your own strength. Some of us had a hard time with that. I know I did on occasion, because I had been so coddled by Mr. B. He told you what shoes to wear, which earrings to put on, how your makeup should be, how you should do your hair. He was unbelievable. He even noticed when you changed your eye shadow! Now in the new New York City Ballet we had to make those decisions on our own.

L.G.: How would you describe your repertory?

N.H.: I dance a wide range of ballets, and I can only say that it's because of Peter. He saw me in different ways than I did. I saw myself more like Patty. There are some ballets I dance that weren't choreographed for me, but just fit. And those ballets are always Patty's or Violette Verdy's. With Coppelia, I don't know how to explain it: I walked in, and it worked. It was the same with Baiser, which was also done for Patty, and Donizetti Variations. Some ballets Peter cast me in--Stars and Stripes, Square Dance, Ballo della Regina, Theme and Variations--didn't come easy; I really had to work at them. I never saw myself as a virtuoso or technical dancer like Merrill Ashley. So it took a while to make them my own.

L.G.: Have you ever danced "Emeralds"?

N.H.: No. I learned it. And I've always wanted to do it. But I do La Source, which Balanchine also made for Violette. It's such a beautiful ballet--hard, too.

L.G.: Before you danced The Sleeping Beauty, did you see yourself as Aurora?

N.H.: No!

L.G.: What was hardest about the role?

N.H.: I think the classicism of it. The purity of line. I'm very comfortable being a soubrette, doing Coppelia and Harlequinade, and I'm very comfortable doing the second movement of Brahms-Schoenberg, which is very romantic and dramatic and swoopy. But Aurora's pure, clean technique--it's the hardest thing. The ballet was definitely a challenge.

L.G.: Is there any role you secretly hanker after?

N.H.: No, I have so much, although for years I wanted to do Scotch Symphony. I just love that ballet, and finally I got to do it. It was the same with Brahms second movement--I always wanted to do it, and finally I did.

L.G.: Do you have any ballets by Jerome Robbins in your repertory?

N.H.: No. I did Mother Goose with him when I was really young. I learned Dances at a Gathering, and that was it. To be honest, I don't know that our temperaments would have worked. Jerry is very specific--this must be like this, this must be like that, that must be like this. I was brought up by Balanchine, who was hands off. He gave you the steps and saw what you did with them; he gave you room.

L.G.: Would you call yourself a Balanchine ballerina?

N.H.: I wasn't made a ballerina by Balanchine. I was made one by Peter. I was trained by Mr. B. I'm part of his era, and I'm part of Peter's era.

L.G.: You are an exceptionally musical dancer. When did you become aware of that?

N.H.: I've become aware of it because in interviews people always bring it up. But I'm not aware of it otherwise. It's really the way I move and the way I dance--and the way I was trained.

You know, I had really good role models. When I wasn't dancing, I was in the wings. I was watching Suzanne [Farrell]. I was watching Patty. I was watching Kay. I was watching Peter. I was watching Misha. I watched what they were doing with roles and the way they moved and the way each performance was different.

I had never seen anything like Suzanne and Peter before. We girls would run downstairs and stand in the wings, just to see what was going to happen, because Suzanne took everything to the edge. I hope I try to do that.

They were great people to learn from, so if there's something special about my phrasing or musicality, I like to think it's because I got to watch some really gifted dancers--and picked something up.

L.G.: Tell me about the pieces you've choreographed for SAB's New Choreography Workshop.

N.H.: The first, which I did in 1995, was called Three American Pieces and had music by Lukas Foss. The second, which I did the following year, was Physical Properties and had music by Steven Mackey.

L.G.: What got you started?

N.H.: I went to see Peter one day. I knew I wanted to try some other avenues, although I didn't know whether it was going to be teaching or coaching or ... And out of my mouth came, "And I'd like to choreograph." I thought, My God, what did I just say? He said, "Really?" I said, "Yes." And within two weeks, he said, "Do you want to try this out? You're sure you want to do it?" And I said, "Yes. I think so." I did a little project at the company, but we didn't finish it. My first real thing was at the school. I Lot to choose the music, pick the kids. It was all very exciting.

L.G.: How did you settle on the music?

N.H.: I didn't want to use one of Mr. B's composers. I wanted to find my own style first and see what I could do. It was incredibly nerve-racking; after all, only one other woman--Miriam Mahdaviani--choreographs here, so I don't have a lot of women role models. I had heard the music a few times, and I was taken with it. It's one of Foss's early pieces; it's very simple and has American undertones, and I thought it would be good for kids.

L.G.: How did you cast it?

N.H.: I take class at the school all the time, so I knew Kurt and Kyle Froman, who are twins, and Cara Copeland, who's a beautiful dancer; all three of them are in the company now. The piece turned out to be very interesting. And, from what I heard, it came out in my own style, which was all I could have asked. So, last fall, Peter gave me the opportunity to do another ballet at the school.

You know, those kids never get to do edgy, modern ballets, except for Mr. B's. But when they get into City Ballet or some other company, they hit choreographers like Billy [William] Forsythe and Kevin O'Day, who are not strict classicists. So I decided to try something modem on them, something that incorporated their youth and energy, and see how they liked it. They loved it. Mackey's score is for electric guitar and orchestra; it has a contemporary edge, but is still beautiful classical music. And my little girl, Alexandra Ansanelli, is now in the company.

Working with these kids, I get a little attached to them. So when they move into the company, I keep an eye out for them, make sure they're okay. When you're young, you think if you don't make it right away, it's over. But I know better. I tell them, "Don't worry!"

Occasionally in the company I'll pull kids aside and help them with something. Once, when Patty came back, I said, "I've simply got to know. What is this step in Baiser?" She was great. You can watch videos, but you can get a lot of information about a work from the ballerina. When Margaret Tracey did her first Coppelia, I showed her how to sit on the chair so it wouldn't rock. It had taken me five performances to figure that out.

When you're younger, you spend a lot of time preparing the ballets. When you're older, you have to spend a lot of time on your body. I'm at the point now where I can't spend all day preparing just to get onstage.

L.G.: What has kept you going?

N.H.: What has kept me going is what I dance. It won't be easy leaving Mr. B's ballets. They're so beautiful.

Lynn Garafola is a senior editor of Dance Magazine and editor most recently of Rethinking the Sylph: New Perspectives on the Romantic Ballet (Wesleyan University Press).