[Music]

Sara Marinelli (00:05):

I am Sara Marinelli, and this is Letters to Italy. In this series, I speak with Italian expats in the Bay Area at the time of Coronavirus. How has the pandemic reshaped our lives here and our relationship to Italy? If there has ever been a time to look back on our choices and ask the question “Where is home?" It is now.

In this fifth episode, I'm speaking with Angela Greco, principal dancer at San Francisco Ballet. Angela was born on the island of Sardinia and grew up in a very small town near Modena,  called Concordia sulla Secchia. Here is how he talks about it.

Angelo Greco (01:01):

My home is a Modena, uh, close to Modena. Uh, Concordia sulla Secchia. It's a really small town. And my street is like, like probably there are 20 people, 30 people living there maximum. It’s insane. I love it. There is nothing. I mean, there is everything for me, but there is nothing like you can find in San Francisco, of course.

Sara Marinelli (01:26):

Angelo has been living in San Francisco for about six years. And for someone who, as he tells me, didn't want to leave his hometown and move to a nearby city to be in dance academy, the relocation to San Francisco was a radical choice. It also cost him ending his lifetime contract as a soloist dancer with the prestigious opera theater of La Scala in Milano when he was only 20 years old. Of course, I asked him why he made that decision.

Angelo Greco (01:59):

When I was in La Scala, I was really lucky because I had the chance to dance all the principal roles since the first month that I got in the company. In my first months I did Basilio from Don Quijote. The second month I did Romeo and Juliet by Macmillan. And, uh, after that, I kept on going with The Nutcracker and different other different ballets. And, um, I was really happy. Of course, uh, I think I got really lucky to have all the opportunities, but at a certain point, I felt that I needed to be more on stage. And unfortunately in La Scala I was having, if I was lucky, probably one performance every month, which it wasn't that much for me. I felt that I needed to be more on stage. I wanted to try new things. You know, when you're young, you want to feel new. I tried to ask for a year off because I had the life contract in La Scala. Unfortunately they couldn't give me the year off. So I had to choose either to stay there or either quit my job. And I chose to quit my job.

Sara Marinelli (03:19):

Knowing how important it is to have a lifetime job in Italy and knowing how that idea is ingrained in our society and culture, I wonder how Angelo felt in making this risky move.

Angelo Greco (03:33):

Of course, I was afraid. My parents didn't know anything about what I wanted to do. They thought that I was really happy, and they were really proud, of course. At 19, 20, I think 20, I had a life contract there. I mean, it's really important in Italy. It's really important for them. That was a crazy step for me. They thought that La Scala was, you know, that's it, uh, it was the top. You, you got there and you have to grow there and you have to make your life. And I never thought that way. I think life doesn't stop in one company. It doesn't stop. It's not for the companies, it’s for your own self. Our career is really short, so you need to get the best that you can and experience everything you can. You know, the train past just one time, it's your choice to get on the train or just see it passing by. And I thought that San Francisco was a big train that actually changed my life.

Sara Marinelli (04:37):

I relate to Angelo's inclination to always want to experience something new. It's probably one that many immigrants and artists share. Besides, the yearning to change seems to be a trait of his personality. He started professional ballet at 13, not only quite old for a ballerino of his caliber, but also after having been a soccer player in a small team for six years. This to me already sounds like a dramatic switch. But I have to ask him the question that we all get asked here, why San Francisco?

Angelo Greco (05:15):

I first came to San Francisco for vacation because I wanted to see how the life here was. And I watched one or two performances at San Francisco Ballet, and I fell in love right away. I was like, I want to be in this company. I think I got in love with San Francisco Ballet because every night it was a different ballet, and it wasn't just classical. It was neoclassical and contemporary too. And of course I'm in love with classical. I love classical. I prefer classical, but it was impressive to me to see how many dancers were capable of changing the movement every night. And also the amount of work that it takes behind all of this, you know, if you have to perform every night, a different ballet, it means that behind there is a lot of work. And I think I wanted to experience that — to grow.  I wanted to take the risk to change my life. And of course, when you change is difficult at the beginning; and also to make that change it’s difficult. It's difficult to take the choice of saying, okay, I'm going to quit and I'm going to leave my hometown, my life, my family. I mean, San Francisco is really far away from Modena. It's really far away from my house and from my family and from everything that I know.
Actually the first time that I came here, I  was afraid. I didn't speak English. And I didn't know anyone. It was really difficult for me to adjust. When I first got in the company, I didn't know whom to speak with. I didn't know. I just knew how to dance.
(07:04):
My second day, I saw my name on the rehearsals schedule. I, so my name and the name of Maria Kochetkova, she's an amazing principal dancer.  And I was shocked. I was like, I cannot believe I'm dancing with her.  And I was also afraid. And when we got in the rehearsals, so we did Don Quixote, Pas de Deux, the music started, and after a few seconds she stopped and she looked at me and was like “No, this is wrong.” And I couldn't even, I mean, I could not understand. I was just guessing what she was saying. And she didn't look happy at all.  And the metre, the teacher was trying to speak in Spanish to me, just to try to make me understand what it was, what it what she was saying, what I should do. And I couldn't understand anything. I went home destroyed. And after that, she never came back. She just said that apparently she just wanted to come for the performance.
And after this, it went well, it went well.  And after the performance, I was like, Okay, I think I can make it.  And that was just the first month.
After two months, I have to say, I thought to go back home. I called my parents. And I was like: “I think I cannot stay here.” It's really hard. It's really difficult. You know, go home alone and being alone. So I call my parents and I was like, “Could I come back home?” And my dad said “Ti è piaciuta la bicicletta? E adesso pedala.”  “You wanted to have a bike? Now use the bike.” And that was it. He turned off the phone.  And, I understood that that was it, that I had to do something. And, and I was like, “Okay, I can do it.”
(08:45): I mean, my first year I remember I did for entire year, I had salad, eggs, and tuna. For an entire year. That's all I could afford. And it was crazy. I mean, I was in a great shape, I have to say, but it was really crazy. And I loved it. I didn't know why I was 20. I loved it. Every time after dance, I was walking to the supermarket and I was buying tuna, eggs and salad. And for me it was beautiful going home. I was putting a movie on the TV, of course, in English, just to help myself to start understanding English, even then I would understand anything. I was putting some movies that maybe I had already watched a few times and I could try to understand what they were saying. And that was it, that was my evening: watching movies and eating my same dinner for an entire year.

Sara Marinelli (09:34):

I am in awe of this story. The strict diet of eggs, tuna and salad clearly paid off — as well as all his efforts. After only five months, Angelo got promoted to principal dancer at SF Ballet. It was a new start in his professional life, in a new country, which also brought him other opportunities like guesting around the world. And, just like he wanted, he was performing every night a different ballet.  Until the lockdown in March 2020 and the abrupt cancellation of the ballet season

Angelo Greco (10:12):

When COVID came, and we had the news that we were going to shut down, we were having many performances. Every night I was dancing a different ballet with my partner Mia Kuranaga, and we were getting ready to go to Japan, to Tokyo. We were supposed to go twice in a month for a big performance in Tokyo, with 20,000 people, TV and everything. And we were really excited about it. It was my first time in Japan. So I was ready. I was ready to go. Even if I was destroyed after an entire season, I was ready for a new thing.  
But COVID came and we shut down. And the first day that I was home, I felt empty. I think for the first two weeks I slept. I didn't do anything. Just slept all day long: eat, drink, sleep. That's what I was doing. I felt a little sick. And I think it was because of the stress, the drop of the stress: from high up to nothing. It was a big step that, of course, no one expected. Of course I was sad. And I was just worried. You know, you are in San Francisco, the most expensive city. We didn't know if you were going to get paid. And we didn't know anything.  And I didn't know if to go home or not. You know, you didn't know if they were going to stop flights and everything. So it was a weird moment. 
When they shut down, the company started to have meetings with us and try to make a plan, try to see what we could do. Even then we didn't know what was going on. They thought to do Zoom classes just to keep our body in shape, because we were thinking: maybe in June, we can open and go back to the theater.  So at first, I started taking some classes and it was really hard because I don't have a mansion. It's a small apartment. So I was taking classes in my bedroom. The bar was my chair and the floor was carpet, and literally I had two meters to dance. So it was actually complicated. But I was motivated at first to do it. At least with the Zoom class, you could try to keep your body in shape. You know, don't lose the shape, because we were thinking maybe in June, we can go back to the theater and perform again. 
At a certain point when the situation was getting worse and worse, nothing was getting better, the company thought to make videos of us, thanking the donors for helping us to get through this difficult time, without them, we cannot survive. So it was rough. It was rough because, yes, ballet's my life, but in that moment, it didn't exist ballet. It was a life change, no theaters open, no nothing. Now we're not open. Probably, we're not going to open until 2022, who knows. I thought that I didn't know what to do. I needed something because I like the stage. I like to be feeling emotion, sensation, create art. And during the quarantine, I missed that.

Sara Marinelli (14:00):

During these months, being deprived of the stage and distanced from the ballet community and his art, Angelo was able to still create something new working with filmmaker, Pietro Pinto, who directed him in a short film called Icarus.

Angelo Greco (14:18):

In that moment, I got lucky because I met Pietro. His energy gave me so much energy. We started shooting this short film Icarus.

 (14:39): [SFX: Sound of film backstage ]

How are you doing?   I'm tired, I dunno, definitely, it's really the worst stage ever,  but I like the experience and I'll learn how to make it work. In this beautiful city, San Francisco. I love it. It’s my first film. We are going to create, create, art! I'm excited. Let's do it.

Angelo Greco (15:13):

It was so beautiful. Out of nowhere with nothing, just dancing on the beach in front of the Golden Gate, on a foggy day, dark, it was really reflecting my feelings of losing the stage, losing my life, losing the perception of time.

[SFX: Music from the film Icarus]

Sara Marinelli (15:52):

Angelo dances on dirt, sand, concrete, and asphalt in the empty city. As he says, the worst stage ever. But that dancing on the most unstable grounds is a symbolic expression of the resilience of the dancer, who in this time of suspension and stillness urges his body, not to stop moving. Of the artist who tries to keep his art and spirit alive. 
I ask him how he feels when he dances, when he's at the center of a stage and what dance means to him.  I am also curious to know how high he jumps.  He says that it's not that high, that he doesn't know. I can't believe it.  I think he's playing it down, but here is what he tells me.  
And of course he's not really jumping.  He is stepping into his power and grace. He is expanding in the air.

Angelo Greco (16:52):

I don't know how to explain what I feel when I dance. I just know that the moment that I step on stage, I feel free. The few moments that you are enjoying what you're doing is on stage because you do everything that you practiced before, but you have to go through a training that can be rough and difficult, and you have to give your best. And when you go on stage, you're enjoying yourself, you feel free because you know what you're doing, you are in control of it. But at the beginning, you're not in control of it. Sometimes, my conductor asked me, you know, Angelo, how do you do it? It looks like you're risking all the time. And it feels, it feels, you know exactly what you're doing, but you never, I mean, every time you never know; like, sometimes I fall, and I get up. Uh, but in that moment when I jump, I love to jump because it's like, when I prepare for a jump, I mean, I have an image of what it should be in the air. And I try with my mind to reach my imagination. Literally, that's the preparation for me.

[SFX: jump sounds] (18:13):

And when I jump, I don't even think anymore. You're just feeling free. It’s like an explosion. And I love it. It's the same thing, also, when I do a ballet story and maybe it's Sleeping Beauty, or it's Romeo and Juliet, and you're just looking at Juliette, it’s the first time that you see Juliet and you're like, you're not breathing anymore. You're just looking at her. You're shocked. You're in love. You're there. It’s that emotion. It's like, you feel it really, you feel like the chills, you feel everything: you're living. It is like a dream. 

[Music: Romeo and Juliet]

You're living a dream. You're living something that is not real, but it's real. And you're giving to people that, to the audience, an imagination. When they leave the theater and this still their thought is still there in the theater, and they imagine to be on stage. They probably imagined to be that particular role. That's our job to make them feel special, make them dream. That's art in general. That's the art.

Sara Marinelli (19:39):

I am moved by these words that evoke a whole word in my mind.  Full disclosure: I am a modern dancer, a really bad one. And I am a dance lover. I watch a dance performance and dancers with a desire to do what they're doing. And I dream about what my body could do and reach but can’t.  What Angelo describes from a real, a star dancer’s point of view is a dream within a dream. The one they live in and the one they create for us. 
When the world of performing arts came to a standstill this year, we all experienced the loss of another dimension to seek shelter in, a scar in our imagination, a missed chance for delight and reverie.  And right when we needed it the most to counter the dire reality of the pandemic. Angelo’s story puts me before the pain of the artist's loss, of his being bereft of one of his powers.  
And on top of that, the disempowerment that us all Italians abroad felt in hearing the COVID news from Italy, the angst of coping with both realities.  I ask Angelo how he felt during that time.

Angelo Greco (20:58):

When I received the news from my parents that they were shutting down in Italya, you know, it was the first place that shut down completely, it was something that was new to everyone. I was afraid because I was far away from my parents. I didn't know what to do. And after it came here in San Francisco and we shut down here too, with the lockdown, I was thinking to leave. I thought I have to go. I have to go back home. It was too much. And when you started seeing everything and hearing all the things every day and it can drive you crazy. And I didn't want that. I wanted to be realistic, and in reality, in my own reality, there is not much right now, as there is no ballet. And I need to create something to make my life happen, to make my life happy.  And after six months, one day I got up, it was September and the ballet started already just with classes, just taking one class  class a day, but if I have to say that through, I was not motivated at all, nothing to look forward to. And I was like, you know what? My family is not doing good. And my father was sick. I needed to see him. I was afraid. I was afraid that, you know, everything can happen. You never know. They needed me as I needed them. And I'm not happy. So I called my director and said, "I'm leaving. You don't have to pay me. I'm just leaving. I need to go home. I need to go to my family. I need to come back where I comes from.” My director was a little worried at first. He didn't want me to go. And, then he said, “No, I understand, you have to go. You have to go to see your family.”  And I wouldn’t have had any problem to leave the company, to leave ballet. I would have left my entire life to go back there. You can create something new. As I said, change comes no matter what. The only thing that I think is important for me is that I'm there when someone I love needs me.  
And I left, I went home to Modena and I felt it was exactly what I needed in the moment.

Sara Marinelli (23:38):

When he returned to San Francisco, all throughout fall and winter Angelo prepared for the 2021 digital season at SF Ballet, and produced world premiere performances specifically for the screen. He tells me how different it has been to dance in an empty theater without audience, but also how wonderful to set foot on a real stage again.

Angelo Greco (24:04):

The first day that I went back to San Francisco Ballet, after eight months, it was weird. It was weird because of course I wasn't in shape. It was beautiful because I was back to the bar, and the feeling of having a bar… as soon as the music start, I feel something, oh my God, I just, I just started dancing and I feel love. I feel literally love in everything that I do. It makes me feel like, oh my God. Yes. Okay. Let's do it again.  And I feel every single muscle. And I feel that I can, I can reach something, something new. The only thing that is really hard is to dance with a mask on, definitely I can say it. I die every day because you can't breathe. It's like, you're going to the restaurant with a mask on, how can you eat with the mask on? It's the same thing to me, but that's what we have to do to dance, so we'll do it.  And, at the Ballet, we have to get tested three times a week, three times a week, and still dancing with the mask on.  This is what we have to do to have the permission to dance, to do rehearsals together. And we are separated. We are different groups and we cannot see people from other groups like is all, uh, organized. And afterward I don't know exactly what the plan is, because, you know, even at the Ballet we are living day by day, because, you know, we can shut down from a day to another. And you cannot plan that much farther ahead. Like you need to plan little by little to see what is possible, what is not possible. It's a weird, it's a weird moment in general.

Sara Marinelli (25:54):

Despite the uncertainty, Angelo made the decision to stay here in San Francisco. Without any hesitation, he tells me that he loves this city, but that his home is Italy. 
To conclude our conversation, I invite him to imagine writing a letter to Italy.

Angelo Greco (26:14):

I don't know what I would say, because I am there even if I'm not there. And I'm bringing my soul as Italian person everywhere I go. The moment that you forget where you come from, I will be worried. I will be worried because I think I would be lost. 
So the thing that I can say is like, I cannot turn the back to Italy. I cannot leave. Yes, I'm here, you leave, but you never leave. You leave a part of you right there.

Sara Marinelli (26:55):

Since we recorded this conversation, sadly Angelo's father passed away. 
SF Ballet is planning to reopen and has recently announced the 2022 season, which will be a celebration of its beloved director Helgi Tomasson. 
This July, Angelo Greco, with his dance partner, the fantastic Mia Kuranaga, will perform at the Gala Roberto Bolle and friends at the Napa Valley Festival.

(27:39):  In next episode, I continue the conversation about the impact of COVID-19 on the world of performing arts with another artist, the musician and composer, Laura Inserra. Unable to perform in public and to teach music and the many instruments she plays, Laura recounts how from her homemade studio, she produced music sessions and sound meditations that she called Shelter in Music and how they became a way to keep her two communities, the one here and the one she left in Italy, connected. Join me.

“Letters to Italy” is produced, edited, and hosted by me, Sara Marinelli.
This series was made possible thanks to the support of COMITES of San Francisco and the Italian Consulate of San Francisco with funding from the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs and International Cooperation. I am grateful for their support. 
Thanks for listening.

© Sara Marinelli