**This is the introduction and small-sized cover photo of the 1976 issue of PEOPLE magazine. Much of the article can be read on the PEOPLE link, but I am looking for my page scans and will post them again when I get the images re-hosted. If you would like to download the entire issue in PDF format, try this link here.

An Intimate Look at Rudolf Nureyev Life –a Dance Against Time

By Sally Moore
28 June 1976

"I am always cold."

With spring temperatures hovering in the 70s, Rudolf Nureyev sweeps into Manhattan's deluxe La Caravelle restaurant in a floor-length black mink coat, high-heeled boots and Dutch-boy cap tugged tightly around hair still damp from rehearsal. He immediately asks that the air conditioning be turned off. And before ordering a sirloin steak bleu, he sips the first of many cups of hot, sweet tea that he will consume throughout lunch.

"I should have stayed in bed this morning," he grouses, staring moodily at his plate. Suddenly he looks up with a smile of dazzling, seductive insouciance. "And what is it," he asks, "that you want to know about me?"

Nureyev is consistently evasive about his own relationships. "It's not the public's business," he says. He scorns marriage. "What for?" he asks. "To ruin some girl's life with the way I live?" And adds: "It is best to get on with the dancing and leave the emotions for later."

Always the adventurer, Nureyev is excited about his movie role as Rudolph Valentino, the screen's most famous lover. "Let's be honest," he says, "everyone wants to be a movie star. Valentino had incredible magnetism on screen—an animal quality he had the strength to maintain. It's a tremendous challenge. If it doesn't work," he smiles, "I'd rather have a failure of that magnitude. Anyway, it's time to do it before I get wrinkles and they have to photograph me through a mattress."

At the moment he is troubled only by his failure over the past 15 years to wrest an exit visa from the Soviet Union for his mother, whom he has not seen since his defection. "But I can't complain," Nureyev says. "At least there's still something to write home about."