Memories and interviews

  Françoise SAGAN
French writer
 

I don’t know anything about dance and my admiration was therefore for the beauty of the man himself and the beauty of his performances on stage in Paris.

I saw him appear on stage, running into the spotlight, I saw him give a triumphant leap and somehow, I felt that his leaps, his steps, were more handsome, more vigorous, more superb than those performed by others.

Later on, during the night, I bumped into him by chance in a night club, a winged pedestrian, quick, offhand, with a wolf’s face and a Russian laugh.