POWER MOVE
A member of Cuba’s ballet royalty laces up in Houston
Striding into one of Houston Ballet’s sunny studios last week, Carlos Quenedit could have passed for an energy trader. His jacket, button-down shirt and Oxford shoes lent him an air of easy authority that was tempered by his quick smile, especially when his wife, Ana Robles, and 3-year old daughter Luna followed him into the room.
The company’s newest principal dancer does have a strong relationship with kinetic energy. Quenedit (pronounced almost like Kennedy, but with stronger emphasis on the y), was born in Havana, trained at Cuba’s national ballet school and began his career there with the legendary Alicia Alonso’s national company.
He arrives during a pivotal moment in his career, at 32, ready for a comeback after he thought his performing days might be done. He still winces a bit when he recalls what could have been a career-ending injury.
It happened Dec. 21, 2016, in San Francisco, where Quenedit danced seven years (including five as a principal), during a moment that should have been a skate. He was performing the final manège during the grand pas de deux of “The Nutcracker,” landing a double saut de basque
— a running, leaping double spin with one foot in a pirouette position at the knee — when his leather boots stuck to the floor, which was clammy under the hot stage lights. Half of the ligament in his left ankle was torn.
Shocked and in pain, he crumpled immediately to the floor and crawled off the stage in agony. That unfolded in five seconds, but it felt like an hour to him. The injury hobbled him for a year.
Depressed but eventually accepting it was time to move on, Quenedit retreated to Guadalajara, Mexico — Robles’ home, and a city he loves. By July 2017, the couple and a business partner had created the Institute of Dance and Arts Centre there, to train new ballet dancers and provide classes of all types, at all levels, to the public.
That seemed a natural progression. Ernesto Quenedit, Carlos’ uncle, operates a school in San Antonio. The Quenedits are practically ballet royalty in Cuba. Ernesto is a former National Ballet of Cuba and Joffrey Ballet star. Carlos left Cuba as a soloist, and his younger brother Rafael is now a principal with the national company.
When his ankle healed, Carlos realized he wasn’t done yet. “My whole life was dancing,” he said. “I needed to dance again, to get up and go.”
He thought he would continue to perform by securing work around the world as a guest artist. He’s that caliber, so it wasn’t a pipe dream. Among other gigs, he landed a show last April as Basilio in Houston Ballet’s “Don Quixote,” one of his best roles, partnering with Alison Miller in her debut as Kitri. He also spent time in class, and liked it. Quenedit also missed the camaraderie.
“Since I graduated when I was 18, I’ve been in companies the whole time,” he said. Between his period in San Francisco and his days with National Ballet of Cuba, he had performed with Miami City Ballet and Mexico’s Ballet de Monterrey.
Working as a guest artist had other negatives, too. Freelancers don’t have guaranteed work; they wait by the phone a lot. And even the best end up dancing the same signature roles all the time. Quenedit didn’t want to limit himself, and he still yearned to try new roles.
Sir Kenneth MacMillan’s “Manon,” one of the works on his wish list, is in Houston Ballet’s repertoire. It’s not on the schedule this season, but Quenedit has plenty of other ballets to learn, including Stanton Welch’s new “Sylvia,” which premieres in February.
While San Francisco Ballet is bigger (with 75 dancers, versus Houston’s 60) and stages more performances (virtually nonstop from January to May, with eight programs), Quenedit said the companies are similar in many ways. Both present a mix of classical and contemporary repertoire by leading choreographers and have 10 a.m. to 6:45 p.m. workdays.
Houston Ballet fans who have been around a while will have big expectations for a Cuban named Carlos. Quenedit said he feels honored to be following in the footsteps of his idol, Carlos Acosta, the Cuban star who dazzled Houston audiences in the 1990s, before going to England’s Royal Ballet.
Quenedit doesn’t just know of Acosta, he learned a few things from him when Acosta returned home for visits, including discipline and how to work. But training with Alonso’s company, which is also how Acosta got his start, shaped Quenedit’s style.
“The Cuban school for male dancers makes you look very masculine onstage, very powerful,” he said. “Cubans dance with power.” Acosta was special because he also performed with an infectious joy, never looking labored.
Quenedit aspires to that, too. While he is prone to nervousness before shows, once he steps onstage, he feels free, he said.
While some of the company is in the Berkshires this week for Houston Ballet’s first performances at the Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival in 40 years, Quenedit will be learning his way around town and rehearsing for his first performances in mid-September. During a three-night mixed-rep program at Miller Outdoor Theatre, he’ll perform “Raymonda” and pas de deux from “Don Quixote” and “Romeo & Juliet.”
His Houston job is full time, so Quenedit and Robles will have to get used to being apart. They co-direct the school in Guadalajara, but she will run it most of the year and also keep Luna, their adorable daughter, who already stands naturally in first position and can balance with her arms and legs extended, high in her daddy’s arms.
Offstage, Quenedit loves soccer: Real Madrid is his team. He also is studying currency trading, through an online course with a teacher in Miami. (So that impression in the suit wasn’t far off.)
Reminded that trading, like dancing, has built-in risk, Quenedit laughed.
“I really love it. I’m excited,” he said. “Yes, we get these butterflies in the stomach. We are used to that; you want to feel it all the time.”