In Southern California, Skylar Brandt and Herman Cornejo Are Bringing Fresh Depth to ABT’s ‘Giselle’

When Skylar Brandt first got the opportunity to dance Giselle, it came as a shock. The year was 2020 when, in conversations with American Ballet Theatre artistic director Kevin McKenzie, he casually mentioned the 1841 ballet, a role every ballerina aspires to, but offered no commitment. Even so, she spent weeks studying with husband-and-wife team Maxim Beloserkovsky and Irina Dvorovenko, former ABT principals who had been privately coaching her for four years.

Months later, with a Kennedy Center performance looming, Misty Copeland, the company’s renowned principal, suffered an injury, and Brandt got the call. With time for only one rehearsal with partner Herman Cornejo as Albrecht, the pair took the stage. Brandt danced flawlessly, including the demanding mad scene at the end of act one, and the critics gushed, some calling it “jaw-dropping” and “breathtaking.”

Following its triumphal revival at the Met earlier this month, ABT brings Giselle to the Segerstrom Center for the Arts in Southern California this week for a four-day run. Brandt and Cornejo are scheduled to dance on Sunday, July 27.

Set in the Middle Ages to a score by French composer Adolphe Adam, Giselle tells the story of a peasant girl with a weak heart who finds love in the arms of Albrecht, a handsome nobleman in disguise, who promises to marry her. When she learns he is betrothed to another, Giselle descends into madness in the famous Act I closer and dies of a broken heart.

“Some people really go full straitjacket, pulling their hair and weeping. But for me, she’s so stunned, it’s like she’s replaying the movie of what happened twenty minutes earlier in the act, when she’s pulling the petals off of the daisies,” Brandt tells Observer, describing how she picks petals from the flower out of rhythm with the orchestra. “There’s a delay that tells the audience something’s not quite right with her. So, it’s the fine line of being in the moment and having the emotion be genuine and come out in real time, but also not losing the quality that makes a ballerina so exquisite. You still have to have exquisite beauty.”

For Cornejo, the scene is made unbearable by Albrecht’s passivity in the face of such raw feelings. “At least the ballerina is moving and channeling all those emotions. I find it very draining emotionally,” he sighs. “In many other ballets, if there’s a mistake—Don Q or Swan Lake—you can fix it and people won’t see it. But because Giselle is so slow and smooth, any tiny moment something goes wrong, people can see it. It’s very demanding; you cannot relax for one second.”

The second act finds her in the afterlife land of the Wilis, spirits of women who died before they could marry. There, she protects Albrecht from other Wilis bent on exacting revenge on double-crossing lovers.

“Adagio is not my favorite thing. I feel like I have fast twitch muscles,” says Brandt about what is for her the more challenging portion of the dance. “It takes an enormous amount of effort to look effortless and look light, like a spirit, like you have air in your bones. A lot of that has to do with training and rehearsing, but it’s also how your partner handles you with care. And in Act II, there’s a lot of partnering, and the strength, coordination and natural ability of the partner can also make or break the qualities Giselle possesses. I look good because Herman makes me look good.”

Originally from Purchase, New York, Brandt trained at the company’s Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School in 2005 and joined ABT in 2011, dancing first in the corps de ballet and then rising to soloist in 2015. Following her Giselle debut, she was elevated to principal dancer. Then came the pandemic.

“It was the first time I was off the hamster wheel since I was eight years old,” recalls Brandt. “I feel like I grew a lot more as a person and as a dancer. I was still at home working on my dance. I expanded my view of myself in that time so that my world opened up even more. Every year, you hope to get a little better.”

Originally from Buenos Aires, Cornejo came to the U.S. in 1998, aged 17, joining the ABT Studio Company as an apprentice. In 2022, he was chosen to receive the Carnegie Corporation of New York’s Great Immigrant Award.

“I was honored to receive that award,” he beams. “It put it in perspective that, as an immigrant, sometimes you have to prove more than an American. I’m proud of that. America opened the door for me, and I came and I did my job and showed how I can be part of this nation with pride.”

Early in his career at ABT, he danced the Bronze Idol in La Bayadère and the Jester in Cinderella. At five feet six inches tall, he was deemed too small to dance principal roles. But his talent and stage presence are so strong that he was elevated to soloist in 2000 and became principal in 2003.

“There is a bias against short dancers doing lead roles,” says Cornejo, who made a name for himself back then dancing roles like Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet and Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. “I hope that will be over one day. It’s about your character, how you move, the weight of your interpretation.”

While fellow ABT principal Gillian Murphy eyes retirement at the age of 46, Cornejo focuses on choreography, even if it’s just for himself. At 44, he sees the next phase of his career as artistic director.

“A director sees what the audience wants, what the company needs and what dancers you have,” he says about his post-dance future. “You want to do titles that will make your dancers look amazing. So, you select based on which company am I leading and how can I make that company the best company.”

But for the time being, if 62-year-old Alessandra Ferri can dance the principal role in the company’s recent Woolf Works, then Cornejo can dance till he drops.

“I want to celebrate my thirty years with the company in 2029, and I want to keep going. I’ve really enjoyed this journey,” he says, looking back on his career. “Before, it was almost like I had to prove myself every time I went on stage—prove myself to my director. But now I feel like everybody knows me; they know who I am and what I can give. So, I feel like it’s exactly what I want to say.”

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