The impressive life of New York City Ballet’s first Asian male dancer
In new documentary 'Ten Times Better,' filmmaker Jennifer Lin tells the unique story of George Lee
Words by Caroline Cao
The title “dance pioneer” has never occurred to octogenarian George Lee during his 40 years as a blackjack dealer at the Four Queens Resort & Casino in Las Vegas. He deals cards eight hours a day, five days a week. And on his days off, “I gotta do my housework, do my laundry, buy some food...not much [free time],” he tells me. But decades ago—before his knees went bad in his 40s—Lee had an unparalleled ability to spring into jaw-dropping double tours, leaping, twirling, and landing like a round ball on the New York ballet stage.
I recently spoke with Lee on the day of a panel discussion at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts. In addition to Lee, the panel featured filmmaker Jennifer Lin, and Lincoln Center’s head archivist Arlene Yu, and they discussed Lin’s new documentary on Lee’s life as a dancer, Ten Times Better.
For a time, Lee didn’t know he was a pioneer to Asian American researchers, especially to Lin, the Chinese American journalist and documentarian who directed the 30-minute documentary spotlighting his story. While researching Asians in ballet for another unnamed documentary project at the Library for the Performing Arts in November 2022, Lin was poring through archival newspapers and photos. She was intrigued by glowing reviews for a Chinese dancer, a George Lee, among the 1954 New York Nutcracker cast. She suspected he may have been the first documented male Asian dancer with the New York City Ballet. His name also sparked the interest of Arlene Yu, who was the collection manager of the Jerome Robbins Dance Division archives at the time, and Phil Chan, co-founder of the Final Bow for Yellowface organization.
But how do you track down the right “George Lee” when it’s such a common name? It took Ancestry.com and newspaper searches to lead Lin to his naturalization papers (in which his last name was anglicized from Li), an obituary of dancer Stanislawa Lee, a quote about a surviving son living in Las Vegas, and five possible phone numbers. When Lin’s voice message reached Lee in Las Vegas in December 2022, he was so shocked that a friend suspected Lin was a scammer. But then the friend’s son Googled Lin’s filmmaking profile to ascertain that she was legit. And Lee allowed Lin to interview him. The film’s title is based on a mantra his mother instilled in him: “You are going to America, it’s all white people, and you better be 10 times better.” He’s fond of repeating his story to me. The film premiered at the Lincoln Center on Lee’s 89th birthday, Feb. 10, with pending dates for festival screenings and a public broadcast.
Lee was born in Hong Kong in 1935 to a Chinese acrobat father (who died tragically in a truck accident when he was young) and a Polish ballerina mother, Stanislawa Lee, and was raised in a Russian- and Polish-speaking household (the panel moderator emphasizes, as trivia, that Lee is not a Chinese speaker). They moved to Shanghai in 1941 to live within its Russian diasporic communities. His mother, a semi-solo dancer for the Warsaw Opera, was his “greatest critic,” Lee says with love. She taught him ballet privately, while Shanghai ballet classes also trained him to pirouette among adult Russian students. Lee would earn rice by performing ballet, polkas, and sailor dances at Russian-owned nightclubs. Later in 1949, he and his mother fled the Chinese Civil War between the Nationalist Chinese and the Communists. What was supposed to be a four-month stay in the Philippines’ Tubabao Refugee Camp, turned into two years. One of the reasons for their extended stay was that Lee was ineligible to immigrate to Australia since “those days they wouldn’t like [Chinese] Asians,” Lee says in the film, likely referring to the country’s federal White Australia Policy at the time that barred Chinese immigrants from entry. A dancer friend of his late father eventually sponsored them to come to the United States, where Lee received a scholarship for the School of American Ballet (SAB) in New York and was the only Asian face among white dancers.
In 1954, George Balanchine, the co-founder of the New York City Ballet, cast Lee as Tea, a Nutcracker role historically associated with Asian stereotypes and white dancers in yellowface, as documented in Chan’s book Final Bow for Yellowface. A modern viewer—especially an Asian dancer—would likely wince at the black-and-white photo of Lee mid-split-leap, with orientalist ornamentation: Fu Manchu mustache, queue hairstyle, and conical hat. But to Lee, the role was a job.
Younger generations would likely be more inclined to directly critique the representational politics of the dancing industry, but Lee navigated the era-specific barriers to the best of his abilities. During the panel discussion, one Asian audience member—decades younger than Lee—asked if Lee had proactively approached Balanchine for the Tea role commenting, “Sometimes we self-eliminate. We, as a minority, as Chinese, we’re not aggressive enough [to ask for the roles we want].” In this case, Balanchine noticed Lee’s talents within SAB and Lee performed what was asked of him. And as Lee explained to the audience member, “Balanchine mostly likes [to cast] the girls with the long legs, and me, no place for me [a short male dancer in New York City Ballet] yet. That was it.” Yu followed up on this comment by alluding to the general disenfranchisement of Asians in American ballet spaces. “I know that there have been [Asian] women who have struggled–even now–to become accepted in ballet [against white-dominated institutions]. So there would be issues with [Asian] men getting in as well,” she explained.
While Lee didn’t become a dancer in the New York City Ballet after Nutcracker—on the apparent account of being a “short shrimp”—another historical part materialized for him when the legendary choreographer-dancer Gene Kelly persuaded him to learn something new: jazzy, Broadway-style dancing. So Lee auditioned and joined the original 1958 Broadway cast of Rodger and Hammerstein’s Flower Drum Song, a Kelly-directed watershed musical that explored Chinese American assimilation (many today know the musical through its 1961 film adaptation). You can spot Lee as one of the springy dapper-suited dancers pulling off his double tours in the Ed Sullivan show clips.
Lee’s dancing career came to an end as his knees began giving out in his 40s. A friend suggested that he join dealer school and that’s how he ended up working in a casino. Being rediscovered by Lin, and having the interview spotlight shined on him, brought Lee back to New York City for the documentary’s premiere, as well as a lunch with surviving Flower Drum Song veterans Pat Suzuki (the original Linda Low) and Baayork Lee (also an original Broadway cast member in A Chorus Line). Before this, George Lee hadn’t been back in the Big Apple since 1993. “New York, it’s okay, I can’t complain,” he says with affection.
During the panel, Lee mentioned being invited to see the Nevada Ballet’s December 2023 production of The Nutcracker, and he praised its—likely de-stereotyped—Tea dance. “It was different but it was good!” he compliments. Otherwise, Lee informs me he has since been mostly disengaged from the dancing industry. “Modern dance is not my thing to me. I don’t have feelings for modern dancing,” he says.
Lee suspects the advice of being “10 times better” doesn’t apply as much to the current generation of Asian dancers, though he hasn’t found much of a connection with younger dancers. He recalls trying to give helpful suggestions to younger non-Asian dancers, but, “They think you come from the third world…I did try to tell guys one time, ‘Hey you gotta do this way [as I was taught]. You can do better.’ They looked at me [like] ‘Who the hell do you think you are?...’ After that, I keep away.”
I ask if the moment “would have been different if you were speaking to an Asian dancer.” Lee responds, “Maybe, yeah, because as an Asian dancer, we would understand each other—’cause we are Asian and we got to do better in everything. I’m sure they would do the same thing to be good.”
That said, the new spotlight might draw the younger generation of dancers to seek his wisdom. Georgina Pazcoguin—a Filipino-Italian American ballet dancer who co-founded Final Bow For Yellowface with Chan—stood up during the panel’s question-and-answer session and could barely contain her excitement. “You have an incredible ability to reinvent yourself over and over and over again,” she extolled, dancer to dancer. “As someone who’s going through a big transition, what is your advice for dancers to make a huge career change?...I can’t miss the opportunity to ask my elder here, ‘What are some words of advice?’”
Lee answers, “[Transitioning into] something different? Well, [become a] blackjack dealer,” much to the laughter of the room. He affirms to her and the room, “I did the best I could.”
More information and news about screenings for Ten Times Better can be found here.
Published on February 28, 2024
Words by Caroline Cao