In his element: at age thirty-two, Christopher Stowell has added artistry and interpretation to the virtuoso technique that launched his career with San Francisco Ballet, performing at Manhattan's City Center, October 20 to 25

At age thirty-two, Christopher Stowell has added artistry and interpretation to the virtuoso technique that launched his career with San Francisco Ballet, performing at Manhattan's City Center, October 20 to 25.

Success in ballet would appear to be a given for Christopher Stowell. The son of Kent Stowell and Francia Russell, two influential ballet dancers and artistic directors, he "met" George Balanchine when he was but a few days old, grew up in theaters in America and Germany, was groomed in his parents' school at Pacific Northwest Ballet, polished his technique at the School of American Ballet, landed a contract at San Francisco Ballet on the recommendation of his father, and rose quickly through the ranks to become a principal with a wide-ranging repertory.

Yet the concept of Stowell as the inevitable product of an insulated hothouse doesn't match the reality of the dancer whom SFB audiences have come to know and admire over the past thirteen years. In reality, his success has been almost entirely a result of dogged determination and an intellectual approach to his roles that has made him the thinking man's dancer in the company.

Versatile, technically flawless, intelligent, and emotionally expressive, Stowell is the embodiment of what artistic director Helgi Tomasson has achieved in San Francisco. "He is completely at home onstage," says Russell. "It's a wonderful combination of being so instinctual onstage and feeling so comfortable, but doing all of the work to prepare and make it read to the audience." Former SFB principal Elizabeth Loscavio agrees: "When Christopher goes out onstage and does a solo, whether it's classical or neoclassical or contemporary, he's in his element. He does a lot of solo stuff, but in principal caliber; I don't mean in soloist stature. He's a virtuoso."

Stowell, however, pauses thoughtfully when asked whether he would be a dancer had ballet not been the family business. "I'm almost positive I wouldn't be," he explains, "because in some ways it's not natural for me. There are dancers who really need to be and should be dancers, because they don't overly cerebralize. I've discussed this with my parents; it's something we call `dancer smart.' They don't evaluate things too much, they're really a body to move. I'm not really like that. I'm overly cerebral and technical and conscious and planned. I think it is easier to be a dancer if you are not all of those things."

It may be easier, but it's not Stowell's habit to take the easy way out. Discouraged by his parents from studying dance as a child, Stowell has also had to overcome having a difficult body for dance, being rejected by New York City Ballet, and reaching an early career plateau.

Stowell's entree into the dance world, at only a few days old, was inauspicious. When he was born, his father was dancing with New York City Ballet, and his mother, a former company member, was the ballet mistress. In the recent book Let's Go On: Pacific Northwest Ballet at 25, Kent Stowell describes introducing his newborn to Balanchine, who reportedly did not approve of his dancers intermarrying or having children. "When we had our first child, Balanchine came over to our apartment on West 69th Street near Lincoln Center, took a look at little Christopher, and said, `Not as bad as I expected."

Stowell grew up surrounded by dance. "Christopher was walking around in the New York State Theater when he was two years old," says Kent Stowell. "He rode around on the donkey in Don Quixote before the performance began." After a seven-year stint in Germany, where the Stowells danced, choreographed, and eventually codirected Frankfurt Ballet, the family settled in Seattle when Stowell and Russell took over Pacific Northwest Ballet in July 1977. It was only after the family moved from the suburbs into Seattle a few years later that Christopher was finally allowed to study ballet. "We discouraged him," says Russell, "but he was determined."

For his part, Stowell was initially less interested in dancing than in performing for an audience; like many children, he didn't necessarily want to follow in his parents' footsteps. "I loathed, I hated ballet. I thought it was so boring," says Stowell. "The first year I did Nutcracker, I wasn't in the school. I just did it because I could do a pas de chat, because I had seen them plenty of times. But then they said, `You really have to be part of the school to be in it next year, otherwise it's just not fair.' That was the only reason I started ballet--it was the key to getting onstage."

This love of being onstage distinguishes Stowell from his parents, who describe themselves as having been "reluctant performers." This characteristic, combined with his intelligent, thorough preparation, has served him well in roles demanding cleverness and humor, such as Alain in La Fille Mal Gardee, Ignatz in Brenda Way's Krazy Kat, or Mercutio in Tomasson's Romeo and Juliet. "We like to ham it up in much the same way," confirms Loscavio, "and we feed off each other in that aspect."