The journey
Okay, so I reorganized my original separate 100 different dance posts and condensed it into a few. I start at the beginning of when new to ballet (and also my writing was…young! lol) and progress into later years. Enjoy!
The beginning:
***
Today I woke up completely feeling like shit. But I forced myself to get in the cold shower, go get some black coffee, and take the city bus down to the ballet school.
Afterall, I hadn’t danced in so long, I was deadset on going.
The school was just as beautiful as I remember. There were boxes of brilliant gold garland, Christmas trees, glittery snowflakes and sparkly costumes everywhere as the school was getting ready for the Nutcracker season. All the company dancers were nowhere in sight, I’m sure they were all in rehearsal until the big day.
A few people ran around frantically, trying to organize everything.
I headed up to studio six, and laid motionless in my hoodie and sweatpants of the ground, trying to feel better and trying to lose the nervousness of being gone for so long.
Class started and I took a deep breath, as the piano rang out into my reflection in the mirror. My legs were trembling, my balance was off, and a looked a bit like Casper the ghost as a struggled to pretend I wasn’t getting sick and that I hadn’t danced in over a year.
My muscle memory kicked in as the steps were demonstrated:
pas de cheval, develope, degage, degage,
as I struggled to not look winded.
But 50 minutes into class I was seeing double, so I decided that was enough as I excused myself without reason. I pulled on my sweats, and beanie and headed out into the winter air.
I am so happy to be back dancing again.
************
Intermediate ballet.
*
Quick. Sharp. Intricate.
Complex combinations and no demonstrations.
I had to laugh a lot because I found myself completely lost in the rapid tangle of turns and chasses. I made a lot of strange faces with my held tilted to the side, and my lips pursed together, as I tried to repeatedly disassemble the steps in class quickly in my head.The pianist played briskly, and I had to force my jaw to not drop at the sight of everyone else executing triple pirouettes in perfect precision.
Our adage work was focused on developpes (groan) :/ and arabesque turns.
We did our allegro work in a circle, with pique turns, balances (groan again) and pirouettes, and we practiced spotting at different points of the room. I had such a frustrating time keeping the pace of this, and getting the steps in sequence as we all pranced around in a circle.
My teacher stood next to me and watched me dead pan and told me to breathe, and that I was holding my breath all the time.
Oh my, I have a lot to work on. But it was such a rush.
***
********************
I swirled the ballerina around like a tiny toy top. The music clinked, off key, sounding hauntingly beautiful. The top of the sage velvet box held an outline of an old mirror, it smelled of my grandma and pearls. I sifted through the jewelry, all of in invaluable to me only.
I was beginning to feel unearthed.
The pieces of myself slowly cracking off, an old statue decomposing. This world was slowing falling away from me, a sacrifice one remembers from dreams. Giving up the ghost of themselves for unfiltered eyes.
The Kauffman Center of Performing Arts opens today. Only the white-collar, black tie and silver spooned will attend. I shuffle around a restaurant serving them what they desire, dressed in black, perhaps a bit envious.
Intermediate ballet kicked my…quads. The hardest ballet class I’ve taken to date. I was overwhelmed with the complexity of the combinations. One of the company dancers stood next to me on the barre. She was doing the combinations times ten: Extra ronde de jambes, extra beats, extra counts, extra emphasis on port de bras.
On one hand it challenged me to watch a professional dancer do everything on pointe and to challenge myself, on the other hand it was killing me because I couldn’t even understand the combination to begin with, so I felt like I was spinning in circles.
We also did exercises on the barre that we haven’t went over yet: Fondu developpe to 45 degrees, enveloppe to attitude then extend to 90 degrees. Also, attitude en cloche insead of degage en cloche.
I hung in there for most of center work.
I died during the traveling combinations.
Died.
It was all so rapid. I got shuffled to the front of our group. That meant I had to remember and not cheat by watching someone else. Oof! The torture!
I tend to shut down when I feel like I can’t hang in ballet. So I did. My teacher said something about at least trying. I can’t even bring myself to do a single pirouette yet!!! Let alone a double/triple!
I just got red in the face and reveled…again. I felt her staring at me. I was actually looking forward to jumping (which has never happened) because I could at least do that decently.
I also realized during class how many negative things I say to myself , in my head.
Its a lot.
Rough. Class.
**************************************
I’m caffeine free…mostly…busting out green tea instead of espresso. I’ve had lots of new idea’s and energy whirling about in my head.
I’ve had lots of sleep, lavender bubble bath’s and time to unwind and focus. My teacher today was a stern one. She stretches us into impossible angles, and her center work is alwaysinconceivable, complex and quick. And there is an edge in her voice that lingers, a distinct inflection that I can’t quite figure out, like maybe a particular man broke her heart, and never said he was sorry.
****************************
I made it through Intermediate Ballet class today.
Holy hell.
What a rush.
Also, I also almost started crying during warm ups, because the guy playing the piano was amazing, and he loves music so much, that you can tell by the way he closes his eyes and gets all caught up. And for whatever reason, I was stretching backwards watching him in a peculiar way, up side down, and I shut my eyes like blinds closing, and I could feel silver tears starting to sparkle in my eyes. And he then opened his eyes, and I shut mine so no one could see… and for a second, I forgot where I was.
***************
I sat in my car breathing hard, borderline anxiety attack, thinking about ditching class. I called a bunch of people, knowing no one would answer, because no one would have the answer I was looking for. “I have to go to class,” I thought shutting my door in slow motion. I walked into class, quiet today, just trying to clear my head. My teacher’s favorite student arrived, smelling of coffee and cigarettes, and my teacher beamed at her, extra wide and her teeth were extra white and gummy. My teacher kept telling her to do all our steps in advanced timing and technique. I could feel the entire class become insecure, shrinking down to the tiny scared girls we all were. And of course, this girl was wearing a cranberry colored leotard today, and I singed with jealousy because in my opinion, every time I have class with a girl in a cranberry colored leotard, it’s game over for everyone else. Well, it’s now or never. So I guess it’s now. I have to step it up.
*******
I took my sweet time getting into my second class today staring at the company dancers rehearsing, until i walked past my classroom and realized they started ten minutes ago!!!!! Whoops. That’s what I get for daydreaming! Intermediate ballet has been fun, and extremely difficult. I’m keeping up better that I expected, except with all the jetes, glissades, pique, and chaines turns and combinations. AHHHHHH!!!! For the first time, I didn’t participate towards the end of class, because I was embarrassed and flustered, and I didn’t even know where to start, nor did I want to hold the entire class back. And I started doing that THING where I mentally say to myself, “What the hell am I doing here? I can’t keep up. Why am I even dancing…blahblahblah” until I realized that I was doing that, and shut it down immediately…because everyone was staring at me waiting for me to go, and my face was bright red and I just shook my head. Oof!
My core is pretty weak, but my balance is getting somewhat better??? I got split flats that FIT yesterday…but I’m pretty attached to my full sole ones now. Oh the challenges.
******
After one week spring break, today my teacher was extremely harsh critiquing and pushing us all class. She reiterated that she could tell we weren’t practicing in our free time, and I was scared for my life, because I could have sworn fire was about to come out of her mouth.
“Your core is not engaged, your coordination is off, why are you bending that leg, you are not putting everything into every move….” on and on, each word like a rock being thrown at glass, and making the classroom full of awkward glances and sweat. Woof! What a long class. But back to be in it! Guess I have a lot of studying to do.
**********
This week has been really rough, per say. Everyone has been yawning in class, and my teachers have seemed to reach the end of their patience with most students. Also, I have been getting multiple corrections lately, about my feet, and leg muscles…*sigh*. One of the girls in my classes is constantly picked on, because she never shows up on time, and never has the right clothes on. I’m bringing her a leotard and tights tomorrow because I’m tired of the other students and my teacher hounding her. I think it’s a bit ridiculous. It’s been so dreary here, that I think everyone is ready for sunshine, tulips, and fresh inspiration and for the snow to melt away. I feel like I haven’t had any time for friends,or anything I used to be able to do. I have been in a cycle of classes, work, studying, coffee, baths, hot tea, rest, and repeat.
And, today a lady in one of my classes gave me a bottle of perfume. She said, I told her a long time ago, she smelled like Paris and shimmering gold mixed together. Which made my entire day, because now I smell like Paris and dreams, life, sunshine, gold, and ballet, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever smelled before.
*****
Yesterday, I got to see the costume room at the ballet school, and it looked like everything you dreamed of as a little girl: tulle, sparkles, glitter, in a giant perfect white room. I was trying not to overstay my welcome, but I couldn’t help just to be speechless, and think of that photo of Karl Lagerfeld staring at the ballerina on pointe in her Chanel tutu.
Right in front of my face was Balanchine’s Serenade gowns, the periwinkle and waterfall colored gowns, and I caught a glance of the Nutcracker collection… maybe another day I’ll get to stay longer.
***
Feeling conflicted has been the theme for this week. I have had some reaffirmation that I am on the right path, today, after spending much of the week questioning what I’m doing. My (physical therapist/former dancer) teacher for Pilates told me not to give up, and that what I was doing was wonderful and smashed every doubt I had. She loves her job so much, it kind of makes me jealous and her energy is like fireworks at all times. I always have to pry myself away from talking to her after class. Also, I just had this really positive unexplainable feeling all day today, that I can’t shake. I worked really hard on stretching my Développé position and front splits, and 2nd position. All which seem terribly hard for me.
In terms of other things in my life, work has been exhausting mixed with dance (is it me or am I always eating, sleeping, or in the shower?)and I had the grueling task this week of returning things to someone I once dated. It’s as if I was hanging onto something selfishly, instead of letting it go. So I did what any girl would do, I put on a sob song, put together all of his things in a crappy walmart sack (hey I had to get in one last jab) and dropped it off on his porch with a letter I once wrote to him. I felt like crying the entire process of this, but once I dropped off the stuff, I felt like I did the right thing, even though it probably hurt both of us in some way to do so. He did teach me how to open up, in turn, making me follow my dreams and becoming a better dancer in the long run. Ugh, somehow dance and love always coincide.
( I later found out this guy and his NEW GIRLFRIEND read my letter out loud as they went through the bag and I was so humiliated. This guy was a Class A douchebag.)
So I ask you, how can you ever dance great if you don’t know how it feels to find love and lose it, and find it again??
You have to know how to lose yourself completely, to find yourself again
*****
“Class today we have a news station coming to film you.”
“Excuse me?” I stammered, looking into the mirror at my messy bun, smeared eyeliner, and half awake reflection.
I sprinted outside the room and tried to put myself together. I opened my bag looking for god knows what, courage maybe?…and I shut my bag and yelled “Screw it!” and went back inside, and warmed up.
There is this girl who always puts on lotion during class. and red lipstick. and drinks coffee out of straws. and brings muscle milk. and leaves it in the middle of the floor while we are doing center work!!! ! "I know George Balanchine would have a panic attack if we were in his class!" I thought to myself as I stood as far away from her as possible.
The entire class was filmed and I was pretending that a glaring black lens wasn’t being shoved into my peripheral vision at all times. It was terrible trying to concentrate, but it was kind of fun.
Of course, the girl with the muscle milk and red lipstick stayed after for an interview, and I rolled my eyes because I think she does not represent all of us that well.
So lesson for today: You never know what life will throw you.
*********************
I traced my steps back into beginning ballet yesterday. The feel of the brick building, the dancers all around, it felt so good to be back. The company dancers stretching and giving me the eye, like they always do. Like I’m competition.
I actually got a shout out in class (my first?!) for remembering a complex combination, and she did it mid combination so I couldn’t react or smile but I knew I was advancing. The pianist played so beautifully I almost just stopped dancing entirely to listen. It was the best pianist I ever had class with. I could hardly remember what we were doing because the notes were killing me with beauty. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. I looked around the room. Didn’t anyone else hear this? It gave me the chills, goosebumps, made my eyes water, and I remembered every beautiful feeling I have ever felt all at once
I then went to intermediate ballet today where I suffered the worst kid in class syndrome. I shocked myself by keeping up with a lot of it, but I was sandwiched between two company dancers whose pointe shoes rhythmically clopped out a faster pace than I dare to keep, their backs resembled rippling desert sand.
Center work consisted of quick arm transitions, combined with dizzying turns and complex jumps.
I kept up with most of it. I refused to pirouette from lack of being out of the game for so long, and just pléid-passéd-relevéd. I could feel how self conscious I was being. Now it’s spring break. So I won’t be back into the studio until next week.
***
I’m beyond exhausted…to quote my teacher from class tonight, “dancers, break your toes.”
on that note, I’m going to bed.
*****I am tired and slightly broken from ballet. Oof. Dare I say I hit it too hard last week. 5 days almost in a row. My teacher made some comment that I was blowing the rust right off.
I struggle to straighten my back leg & open up from the hips.
I am progressing at an “enveloppe” speed. I’ve been watching more and more videos which is helping me visually understand the body, feet, how to move, and how the body all cohesively moves together like a pendulum of weights acting and reacting.
I’ve had a full week of ballet; a busy work week plus I worked the boats this weekend, my poor eyes were almost swollen shut.
I also caught the local “prowler” (finally) in our yard which was good & awkward considering I didn’t have any clue who it was and I felt some peace of mind. I realized all at once how busy our neighborhood and street are.
I spent some time, for the first time in almost two months with former co-workers and went to eat Indian food & just to talk about life. I only have one friend who lives here and it felt tranquil to have a night of just being with people. And not working, or dancing, or sleeping for work or sleeping for dance.
*************
I am doing just fine, fine & dandy at my adult ballet classes until…a fresh faced young classically trained dancer joins our class yesterday. Shit. Then I am automatically jealous of everything. Her epaulemant is perfect, everything and I mean everything is over the top.
I’m trying to hammer out the forty degages that were just asked and my teacher makes a comment about me not coming to class as much, but she’s sure I can keep up, as I feel my legs bending and doing all things there are not supposed to do.
*I have been working nights (already of which I am quite burned out) and missing class due to exhaustion.*
Needless to say in class I unraveled down to the tiniest size of a babushka doll because this girl was better than me. And by no means, am I the best. But I do study, practice and train in my free time.
But I can’t even begin to compete with this girl. So I remember something I’ve been working on. Space. Take up more space. So every movement I begin to reach towards the ceiling. Extend all the way out from the spine. There is all this space and as a dancer, I always forget. This keeps me occupied the rest of class. Thank goodness.
Why, as a dancer, are adult dancers given less preference? So what if we didn’t start at five, So what if we are not going to be “stars” on stages at the Royal Ballet by next fall?
There seems to be an entire generation of dancers that have grown up dancing ballet, they can execute all movements and techniques, they have the deepest second positions, the highest archers, the perfect lines…yet….they are like robots, perfect robots.
I used to run into the pianist of my former classes at the local coffee shop. Imagine a school full of perfect SUVS and expensive cars and wildeyed dance moms all pushing and pushing and pushing. This was my former dance school. He said he was so miserable playing for the school & company dancers that he would start to fall asleep during classes (thus why he was at the coffee shop).
He said although we were adult dancers, our class was engaging. I laughed because I never thought I WOULD HEAR THAT IN A MILLION YEARS. I do recall laughing a lot in class now that I think of it.
I work & work and with my money, after bills, I come to class. And in class I am alive and in love and filled with joy. Even if I’m sick, broke, lethargic and run down. I show up. So I guess the point of this is to show up and try your best, because there will always be someone there better, some “Becky With The Good Hair” but maybe they are the push you need to do better.
******
I drag myself out of bed from work last night. Get dressed. Debate going to see the live stream of the Russian ballet at the Theatre. Decide to go to class instead. Actually put my hair in a classic ballet bun with a hair net. Snag my prepacked dance bag from last night. Get on the bus. Head downtown. Watch Royal Ballet class videos on the bus on the way to class. 40 minutes later… walk to the studio. Get to class. Watch the previous class. Change. Walk into the studio & realize I just missed my class. Almost cry. Take a deep breath. Head to the coffee shop for an herbal tea. My card is charged twenty times on accident because the screen froze. I grab my tea & take this opportunity to smile. One. Of. Those. Days.
******
“Never stop playing this song, Jeffrey. Play it until you die. It’s just perfect.”
glances at our class starting off across the floor
“Wait, stop, stop. The dancers are all off.”
quotes from my ballet teacher
**
I wonder if any romantic energy towards a guy takes away from ballet and my dance life? I told a guy this past week I wasn’t interested because of dance. I meant it…didn’t I? I could hardly believe it when I said it. I’ve always held this belief that when I started investing emotional energy into a guy, I struggled with dance. And in fact, do worse and go to dance less often. I have to be onto something here. Right?
I wonder if any romantic energy towards a guy takes away from ballet and my dance life? I told a guy this past week I wasn’t interested because of dance. I meant it…didn’t I? I could hardly believe it when I said it. I’ve always held this belief that when I started investing emotional energy into a guy, I struggled with dance. And in fact, do worse and go to dance less often. I have to be onto something here. Right?
**
“Shimmie!”
(Marches over to me in front of everyone)
“Girl! You haveeeee to shimmmmieeee!”
(my face is bright red & I am dying as I’m being shown appropriate “shimmie technique”)
“There. That’s better.”
Quote from my ballet teacher during conditioning class
****
If I have to petite allegro one more second….I simply cannot bear it. My teacher spends a good 45 minutes in class on it. (jete, assemble, glissade) I have a look in my eye as if I detest it, well frankly, because I do. My grande attitude (or any attitude for that matter) is quite unsightly. I have no idea why this is so challenging unless it’s due to my hips. We then worked on center splits against the wall, also something my anatomy (hips) are not built for. I was the only one sticking way out like a splinter.
This girl who is too new to be on pointe WILL NOT stop talking to me the entire class. I just don’t acknowledge her. Why must we talk at all in ballet?
**
My teacher was making us sit in second position with our legs pressed against the wall.
She glances at me. “Hm, this look like you really are enjoying this stretch.” As I am covered in buckets of sweat my abs and legs tremble under my voice.
“I fucking hate it,” flies out of my mouth and my teacher lets out an entertained laugh and says, “Good. We will stay in this stretch longer.”
**
Beginning ballet today we had a visiting dancer from New York. I prayed she wouldn’t stand next to me at the barre, because she was chiseled rail thin and was wearing calvin klein.
We focused on doing most of barre in releve and also balance turns. My teacher is relentless and will make us do one exercise several times until the entire class is drenched in sweat. And then sometimes, she will even say, hmmm. I think one more time. I ended up not intimated at all by the new york ballerina and we had an insightful class. My pique turns are still….”challenging.”
I then went to boxing class where I feel a little intimidated because I am still a beginner. I don’t have the corporate look that every single person in my class encompasses. Then I didn’t have a partner for part of class, so I just did the exercises on my own. Also, I am a south paw which no one likes to pair with. My coach just watched me out of the corner of his eye and finally put me in a group of 3, which I could tell were less than excited to slow down for a new person. However, I didn’t care and when the guy in my group tried to slow down and half ass the steps for me, I ignored him and did the more advanced moves. Out of everyone in class, besides the red haired guy who is an incredible boxer, I was the last man standing for all of our cardio and core work. My teacher stopped me at the end of class and asked me why am I so quiet. I just shrugged my shoulders and said “what is there to talk about?”
We are working on the *drumroll* Mazurka step in ballet. It’s hard and involves a waltzish timing. I don’t know how I feel about it to be honest. I kind of, well..suck at it. But overall, I think I am advancing in class. There is a new girl I have been avoiding on wednesday nights because she constantly asks questions instead of just being present in class. Like CONSTANTLY asking questions and she wants to be everyones bff in class. Oof.
My teacher handed us a slip of paper with famous ballerina names on them and we are supposed to research them and “become them” to quote my teacher
***
I was finally asked by my teacher if I was ready to go on pointe. It caught me so off guard that I said "No," and my face turned lobster red. The entire class stared at me. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I say yes? I know that's what everyone is waiting to be asked. It's the one of the most honorable privileges in ballet.
I suppose it was the stress of trying to find a job in the big city, not drinking more than 2 glasses of wine a night, balancing boxing AND ballet class, and trying to squeeze tightly a dwindling budget that I guess, true to form, pointe shoes were the last thing on my mind.
But honestly, I am secretly thrilled.