What makes a modern dancer great? In "Private Domain" (Knopf, 1987), the choreographer Paul Taylor tells us what he admired about Carolyn Adams, who was in his dance company for 17 years.
When you're able to get dancers, even ones as fine as Carolyn, to do a third of what you see in your head, that's a very good average. Whatever the role, her dancing was unmannered and wondrous. To put it poetically, she was an elegant nectar laced with warm delicacy, easy and effortless. To put it less poetically, she never heaved, let her tongue hand out, or even sweated. Her neck was without noticeable tendons, as was the rest of her, and she was one of those dancers who jump from the small bones of the foot without any understandable preparation. ... Both on- and offstage she gave the impression of being about the size and weight of something you could lift with one finger and drop into an eggshell. She was able to pack more steps into a second than most dancers could execute in a full minute, and she made this seem as if nothing much had happened.
[from a The New York Times clipping, undated, probably 1987]