Bridging the Gap

Onstage, you see a slight, but muscular woman. She’s quick and coordinated as she runs, leaps, and turns, but even in her speed she finds time to choose her moves. It’s this strange combination of barely controlled energy and tense interiority that keeps you captivated. No matter how briefly she’s onstage, in her you see a heroine, a woman on a quest, and for that moment, you’re caught up in her quest too.

This is Penelope Freeh. Freeh’s not a usual ballet type—she’s not long-legged, and she has limited turnout (rotation of the leg from the hip socket)—but with early encouragement, the Dayton, Ohio, native never doubted she would be a dancer. After several years in New York, including two years at the prestigious Alvin Ailey American Dance Center, Freeh was ready for a change. James Sewell’s quirky, choreographically intricate work was a perfect fit for her.

Now thirty-six and in her thirteenth season with the James Sewell Ballet, Freeh is at an age when dancers in previous generations considered retirement. Being a professional ballet dancer is hardly easy. Freeh starts her day with a ninety-minute dance class, then goes on to another six hours of rehearsal. Add in performances, tours, and all the work dancers do to keep their bodies healthy, and you have a physically exhausting, full-time job. But Freeh isn’t thinking about leaving the stage. “I’m going to dance for a really long time,” she says. “I’ll always be a performer.” What she’s lost in youthful energy—which isn’t much—she’s more than made up for in artistry.

In recent years, Freeh has also opened new creative doors for herself. She choreographs her own work—dense, intricate contemporary ballet vignettes. Her choreography won a coveted spot in the Momentum showcase in 2004, and she showed a full evening of work at the Southern Theater last year. She is currently choreographing a piece for this spring’s Springboard dance performance and promises another full-evening performance before too long.

Freeh’s also exploring a new form—writing. In her blog, barefootpenny.blogspot.com, Freeh writes intimately about dance, choreography, performance, and the rest of her life, particularly her recent divorce. Surviving the divorce has made her stronger and ready to take more risks. “I’ve started saying ‘I love you’ to so many people,” she says. Her new fearlessness also inspires her work. “The thing I’ve held on to has been my dancing—and I think it’s gotten better.”

Sewell’s work and the company still excite her. As the most senior company member (with the exception of Sewell and his wife, Sally Rousse), Freeh has seen plenty of old friends go, but she’s also seen new ones come. This month, the company’s concert includes a new work, Proprio, but Freeh’s also excited to revisit Turf, a hard-hitting ballet that portrays torture.

What’s it like to move others with your dancing? “It’s amazing,” Freeh says. “I don’t take it for granted.” But after all these years, Freeh’s dancing is inextricably entwined with her life. In person, her intense, thoughtful manner is relieved by bursts of songlike laughter, just as her fierce dancing and choreography are relieved by moments of lush grace. In her blog, she writes with a dancer’s discipline about her life, her flaws, and her strengths. As Freeh matures as an artist and a person, she’s determined to unify the elements of her life. “I want it all to be one thing,” says Freeh. Jan. 19–21. The O’Shaughnessy, 2004 Randolph Ave., St. Paul, 651-690-6700, jsballet.org

Reach Lightsey Darst at lightseyd@msn.com.