24 U. THE NATIONAL COLLEGE NEWSPAPER Life And Art APRIL 1988 Ballet dancer hangs up slippers for pre-med life By Lauren Neumer The Amherst Student Amherst College, MA For A. John Turjoman pre-med life at Amherst is very different from The American Ballet Theatre, where he spent seven years after high school. As a ballet dancer, he came in contact with people like Russian dancer and ABT Director Mikhail Baryshnikov, traveled to cities around the world and danced principle roles in major classical works. Now, he is beginning his medical educa- tion, a goal swept to the side when he began to dance professionally. After graduating from high school, Turjoman faced a major decision: academics or dancing. "I decided to try to find some- thing I liked better than pre-med be- cause medicine would take so long. I didn't want to have any regrets." During his first year in New York at the Joffrey School, a soloist from ABT saw Turjoman dance and offered him a position in their scholarship training program. For Turjoman, ABT was the only company worth dancing for: "I wanted to dance the classics." Turjoman recalls his first encounter with the legendary Baryshnikov. "I tripped him," he laughs. "I was sitting in the aisle of a theatre with my leg out. Baryshnikov was sitting in front of me. He has a habit of running out as soon as a ballet is finished in order to avoid the mobs of people. He got up to run and tripped on my leg." Accepted into ABT II, the training The dashing A. John Turjoman infuses the role of Romeo with passion in the American Ballet company, Turjoman began touring. "I Theatre's production of 'Romeo and Juliet' had ballets created for me. I got to work with different choreographers, dancing different kinds of movement-classical, modern, etc ... " ABT renewed his con- tract for the 1984-85 season and on New Year's Eve, Turjoman was asked to dance the principle role in "Romeo and Juliet." "The most amazing feeling came from the curtain calls, because well, I was a newcomer. People were yelling bravo, and I was only a corps dancer really. I did television and magazines; I had re views. I got all carried away," he said. "At this point, I started thinking ab- out my own goals. After that season, I realized I never wanted to be famous. That wasn't why I danced-I just loved it so much. I started looking at positions in the 'after-dance' world-choreogra- phy, teaching, coaching, directing. None of it interested me. I realized I didn't want a family in that world. I also, didn't want to be 40 without job skills. I always wanted pre-med. I wasn't with- out an academic goal." As he sits with both legs up on a chair, one is struck by Turjoman's graceful- ness and confidence. His posture, the very concern which sparked his dance career, is now impeccably straight. When Baryshnikov asked him to repre- sent the United States in an interna- tional dance competition in Paris,4 Turjoman turned him down. Medicine offered him something that dance couldn't. "The dance world is built upon dancers succumbing to their director's will. They don't want dancers that have a mind. I felt it was time for me to catch up. I didn't even have time to read the paper. I still dance, but I feel I have a more balanced life now." Student's film gets Festival spot By Kelly Hindley The Daily Utah Chronicle U. of Utah When U. of Utah student Dorna Khazeni mailed her film Whimsy to the Sundance Institute, she expected a standard rejection letter in reply. Her 16mm film was, after all, only two mi- nutes long. She wasn't an established filmmaker; she was just a graduate stu- dent. But instead of a rejection notice, Khazeni received a telephone call. And when the 1988 U.S. Film Festival opened Jan. 15, she was the only Utah filmmaker included in the festival. "Part of it is a fluke," Khazeni said. "It is, as far as I know, the tiniest portion of the festival." But having even two mi- nutes in one of the United States' most influential film festivals is a crucial step in her career, she said. Whimsy is a film about the ambiguity of sexual identity, Khazeni explained. Her black and white, silent film is also about magic, about quirky shifts in ex- pectations. "It's insignificant as far as the film world is concerned-it really is," she said. "But it maintains a level of tension for two minutes. People see it and they like it." Though she works three different jobs to finance her film projects, Khazeni be- lieves the expense and difficulty of film- making are more than repaid by the results. When she makes a film, Khazeni said, "a chunk of my mind is evidently put across to the rest of the world-you feel like they can finally see what you see."