Raising the Barre
This was the beginning. I’m sure there are a few more entries laying around in some old journals, but this sums up the challenges and joys of being a beginner adult dancer. I remember first seeing a flier in one of the schools about how to wear a correct ballet bun. I sheepishly took a quick photo and later practiced in the mirror for weeks. No one ever had told me that was a “thing” for class. One of the many nuances I had to figure out on my own.
One thing I wish someone would have told me a long time ago is be kind to yourself and most importantly, have fun! It’s dancing after all. You could be a gifted savant and you will never make it past the emotional and technical hurdles of dance. Everyone must endure this part. It’s all about breaking yourself down and building yourself up. Literally, you’re creating a rewiring of your entire body. Be patient. There is no way to skip this.
So grab a cup of coffee or a glass of wine, preferably accompanied by classical music and enjoy.
If you by chance are not a fellow dancer, which is a high probability, I will be including a page on terminology, so you can start to learn yourself. Lucky you!
*******
I always wish I had learned French, I always thought it was pretty and have never told anyone that, because everyone thinks French is so romantic and they say it so much. But I had fallen in love with it again, through dance when my teacher once said "tendu" and I pretended to know what she meant, and watched everyone else pointe their toe.
******************
Back to school:
I was thirty minutes early, out of sheer excitement, and I didn't care what anyone thought.
We warmed up with pliés, then worked on Battement tendú en croix.
Then I started remembering things.
We then did ron de jambe en dehors (from front to back), and en dedans (from back to front).
And then we dove right into Passé Relevés, which I have the most difficult time doing, because I've been out of class for so long and my knee still wants to pull inward because my hips are not turned out enough.
Then we did center work, ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I hate it because I turn so red because I know we are going to work on the waltz, which makes me want to die!! So I decided to go first, with the first group, and get it over with. I did better than I thought, because I went with goofball Raphael, who is always stifling a laugh down when someone falls. So going with him in a group, puts me at ease a little I guess. We then added turning with the waltz and everyone just started laughing because it was pretty awkward. We closed with basic glissades... which is sort of a jump slide motion. It's pretty tricky, and everyone was having a hard time understanding the timing...including me.
Finally we stretched and cooled down. It was all over, and I have class again tonight so yipee!!!
Basic things to remember:
1) Terminology
2) Stretch
3) Stand in mirror where I can see.
4) FEEL the music. <----I struggle with this one
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Today we did the Waltz! And should I say, I managed to do it across the floor!!! Well, that's sorta true. My teacher stopped the class, singled me out *I could feel my face redden horribly* brought me to center, and showed me the waltz slowly. And....I got it! I think the problem is no one has ever shown me step by step before! I had just tried to dive right in. It went (sorta) like this "LA da da, LA da da, LA da da, LA da da and bruuuush step step turn, brush arebsque and hold...and start all over." I think I remembered that right. I just watched the guy in front of me, who was doing it perfect. It felt so awesome to conquer that...I felt like it was some sort of elephant in the room for me.
I have class again tomorrow. I just checked out I Was A Dancer by Jacques d'Amboise, and the library MADE me return Allegra Kent’s Once A Dancer because I had it too long, but I'm getting it back tomorrow. Also reading basic French terminology, and finally hearing it in class without thinking. My posture is improving, I am actually LOOKING in the mirror, and the only thing I noticed today was my death grip on the ballet barre. I have GOT to ease up.
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"This building is so beautiful," said Dale, and slid me a side grin. "It feels like New York or something!" and he let out a laugh and I smiled as I watched the Nutcracker rehearsals from above them, the window let us see down into the 1st floor classroom. The grand piano was being beautifully pricked in the corner, the teacher sat in the middle, squawking in her distinct accent "No, NO-ah NOOOhr! Like this... see? Try again!" and everyone stared at her, breathless.
"They’re amazing, aren't they?" Dale said and I didn't even have to say anything. He walked away and I sat there entranced, as some guy looked right at me and did three extra pirouettes and I singed with a bit of jealousy and respect. At that moment a few people saw me staring, and I slid out of view, and traced the old blood stained floor up to my classroom on the top.
*** *** *****
Intermediate ballet has been fun and extremely difficult. I'm keeping up better that I expected, however towards the end of class with all the combinations, I get extremely overwhelmed. All the steps are more quick, complex, intricate, and honestly I haven't been studying as much as I should. But I've been taking (in addition) modern, hip hop, and Pilates...so I'm exhausted at all times, but I feel strength. My two biggest weaknesses right now besides my core, is all the tension in my shoulders and neck. I need to figure out how to loosen up! My teacher always says something about it.
Also, I am continually broke due to the expense of classes, but I wouldn't trade it for the world!
I went to an amazing hip hop workshop this past month, and I got my butt kicked, and I got inside of my head and forgot everything and couldn't keep up. But I was working every night till 3am, so by the day of the workshop I was a ghost. I will never do that EVER again. I was so embarrassed! We did choreography to E-40's Slide thru, and Rhianna's Diamond.
Yay! For dance
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I almost talked myself out of going to class today, because I had an enormously draining night last night...so I convinced myself to shut up, get up and go. My intermediate class was so great, I couldn't stop laughing at the funny things that people were saying (and doing) and my favorite teacher in the world teaches that class. She is so amazing, and I just can't put into words how awesome she is. We had a new guy from New York in class, and he was like watching a marbled sculpture come to life. Too bad he's leaving this week, I was insanely impressed and inspired by this guy, who had NO CLUE he was so great. He told me he quit dancing and I told him not to, and he smiled, and I yelled at him down the hall, "Never give up."
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I stood above the dancers, watching below as they shifted lines, front to back, drenched in sweat. The school had been search of a new artistic director and ballet mistress. So everyone was on edge and walking the floors felt like every one was whispering right around the corner. The girls all wore backless leotards so you could see their muscles which resembled wind rippling sand. "I have a crush on one of them," this girl appeared out of nowhere, and slid next to me. The girl was from my class and broke ever etiquette rule that existed in ballet class.
"That one, right there," she pointed and I looked at her, still trying to figure out where she came from.
“How do you know he’s single?” I said.
"Oh I don't care!" A high pitch of desperation shrilled in her voice. "I would make him like me. His balls are huge!"
I choked on my water I was swallowing..."Excuse me?" I said
"His balls...they'r--"
"I get it!" I yelled in a whisper. The room five feet next to us contained the board of directors, that decides who replaces the new artistic director. They shut the door, and I grimaced. The current artistic director rounded the corner, as a lady I hadn't noticed standing close to us, turned to face him. He approached her solemn-like, "Well he sure know his Balanchine." she said and he looked at her with a stiff smile. "Yes, I'm sure he does, but ---" He looked peculiarly at us. "Come this way with me," he said and they walked off, entangled in hushed gossip. I headed up to class, embarrassed to be around that girl from my class and shaking my head.
***************
I think about the following things in class;
Work, aligment, trying NOT to look in the mirror too much, getting new leotards, my turnout, if anyone has texted me, where is my water bottle?, what song is the pianist playing?, how this one girl always stares at herself like she's dating herself in the mirror during barre work, epaulement positions, bills, eating, sleeping, what am I doing with my life!!?, not laughing at my barre partner, why this one lady is so rude to our teacher?, love, life, loss, and if I'll ever get over him, dreading waltzing, anatomy, spotting during pirouettes, and when can I take my next bubble bath and nap.
*******************
My first day back at beginning ballet in a few weeks. There were a couple advanced students in the beginners class, which gave me the up and down before class started. *eyeroll* I don't know why girls always do this, but this isn't tryouts for Black Swan here.
Class proved to be more challenging than usual, and of course, one of the newer student's complained of the teacher giving us too advanced moves...to the teachers face. She then presumed to point her finger at my corner and said "Clearly they have been dancing since they were little. How am I supposed to understand any of this! This is hard. I thought this was a beginners class!!"
Awkwarrdd.
My teacher's face was so red. (I admit I was flattered) and at the cost of my possible secret advanced/professional student reputation, I spoke up and told her "Hey, I'm an adult beginner and the only way I went up a level was watching and dancing with people better than me." Needless to say the rest of the class was weird, and a bit uncomfortable. I can't help but to wonder if George Balanchine would ever allow someone to speak at ALL in class, let alone speak like that.
So I guess I'm getting better...slowly. And my teacher helped me to work on my leg in attitude today (yay, finally!)
And now other things off subject, I have been really anxious not being in dance the last few weeks. I have been sleeping terrible, and have been well...really unhappy. I have been trying to avoid it, (i.e. not looking at my dance books or clothes etc.) and I just couldn't afford to go. But man it's so freeing to be back.
I also realized today I give like maybe 8% of my life to dance instead of more. And I get discouraged and just quit (a pattern I habitually do). I need to dedicate more of my life to it...all or nothing baby!
**************
Yesterday in class, I thought after a long break I would easily be one of the more advanced students. Wrong, once again. My teacher asked a few other girls if they would like to do the more advanced moves and made me go with the new kid. Which is fine, but wrong wrong wrong I am yet again. And my car officially is dead, so I'm stuck stuck stuck trying to figure out what to do and how to make it to dance.
Which made me hark back onto the times I was shoving twelve classes in a week.. I couldn't remember where I had to be, at what time. I could barely afford to live, and dumped all my money into dance. And I was trying to have a social life, which was killing me. I was getting stronger, but weaker because I was pushing myself over the limit. (My Achilles was so terribly sore). My studio actually gave me money back because at how much I was spending!
And the things I do to make it to dance class are quite ridiculous. Being a dancer, means being broke. And don't worry, I've already done plenty of research on investing in stocks because I just watched the Great Gatsby, and felt really...well broke.
I can short cut anything to pay for dance (coffee houses that give free refills, early bird specials at the dance studio, free salsa classes around the city, not eating and just drinking coffee all day, etc....I don't have any shame here). And I've even considered taking the city bus to class and the bus in my area is weird and creepy terrifying. And I haven't even made it past beginners. I have a feeling this is going to be a hard, long road. Literally.
******************
A rapid fire series of questions can be heard before I even ascend the stairs. She chatters manically as I glance at the clock counting down the 20 minutes before class.
She always has to mention how long she’s been dancing. She parades around the studio hallway asking questions to strangers, and not listening to the answers. I find the find the corner of the hallway. I reach into my bag. No head phones.
I can feel her staring wildly at me.
The door finally opens. I wait until she takes her spot at the barre, and find the furthest spot away.
She asks another four questions as the teacher starts the music, then stops to listen.
She replies shortly and resumes the music.
In my head during class, I caught myself saying, “shoulders down, head up. Core in! Listen to the music!!”
I realize I never get lost in the music. I’m always narrating all the steps and what my body should do.
The music stops.
That girl walks over to the side of the room and grabs her big gulp.
She asks another question.
“Have you been watching me? Am I doing it correctly?” she shrills out.
We all stop.
You can hear a pin drip. The ballet no-no. Asking about yourself.
And then the music resumes again.
Today, I feel really thankful for everything. The beautiful brick exposed studio I get to smell, and feel, and dance at every week. The struggle of trying to become more tenacious, knowledgeable, fragile, expressive and technical, and where it all is leading. The statuesque dancers in my class, who come everyday because they WANT to, even if it means nothing to anyone else.
The cogs are slowly clicking into place, and I can feel it in my deepest being.
There is always more to study: Anatomy, French, History, Biographies, Films, and books on top of books.
This is what all those great writers write about. This feeling. The ups and downs, the passion and fury, the sadness and beauty blended harmoniously together.
It is all worth every second of it, as I watch a crystal droplet of sweat, trail down my nose, and feel another fall to the piano crescendo, down my spine
****************
I give myself a brief pep talk.
You’re not going to get any better if you don’t go.
I am laying down staring at the ceiling.
Okay. GET UP!
I knew I was scared of this teacher. Of this level.
I fumble for my things. I hear the bus hiss by. I grab my backpack that I packed the night before. I time my route to the bus stop, it’s short enough that I don’t have to wait that long in the ghetto. I listen to classical music as I walk my 42 minute route to the studio.
Rust colored spots decorate the floor in scattered places. Blood from the pointe shoes has left it’s stamp on the pale wooden floors. A bobby pin lays in the corner.
Today I had class with the lady that talks too much. A different one. She also corrects students alongside my teacher.
The piano player says my name today. I spin around and say hi as I was hurrying to get changed.
The lady with jet black hair and almond eyes with a body like a prima ballerina talks to me today. She says she can’t turn on her pointe shoes.
I smile.
“Well, maybe try a different vamp?” (a vamp is the hard part of a ballet shoe where your toes stand up on)
She laughs, so hard on herself even though her dancing is flawless.
“Yeah. I was just thinking that.”
“I think you’ll know it when you find it. I can’t even turn in these. I relevé (where you stand on one leg) instead of pirouette every time I have the opportunity.” I hold up my flimsy flats.
She laughs again.
She says if I can get in more classes that I’ll probably build the confidence to pirouette.
I agree. I remark about how expensive classes are and immediately regret it, knowing I sound like I am not well off.
“I work just to dance.” I say, again I regret it.
Another girl comes out of the the studio.
“Oh so heeeeeere is where everyone is.” and grins her braces showing. We all pick up our things and prepare for a grueling two hour class.
Post class I find myself walking in the clouds, my muscles crying out. I walk past the company dancers. I go over in my head the checklist of moves I struggled with. I feel like a puppet walking absently on strings. Tears fill my eyes from exhaustion. I felt like my teacher broke our bodies. Broke us. I feel my old self crack open, I feel light coming out from inside of me. I feel the pain of my body transitioning to something new.
Advanced Intermediate = HARD I couldn’t do some barre combinations. I tried. I was swimming against the current the entire class. There were new terms I didn’t know. I just mimicked the teacher as best as I could. I was told I have hyperextended legs. To not sink into my hip. I nodded and pulled up. Everyone was phenomenal. They fluttered through the moves after one demonstration like a butterfly opening its wings. The company dancers were below us rehearsing. I watched them over the barre through the translucent floor. Pure. Bliss.
******************
Wendy Whelan was distinctly standing with a brisk New York air about her. I watched her and remembered the black and white photos I had seen of her in a book about Balanchine. Former retired ballerinas stood around, sipping wine like a row of cut out “Anna Wintour style” paper dolls. Each prima was decorated in identical prestigious onyx shades, perfectly coiffed hair, sky scraper heels with a matching ballerina figure that was sculpted out of a mix of striving for perfection with an air of haughtiness. Each one like a walking Dorian Gray painting.
I slipped behind them in worn out black flats, a messy mane, cedar parfume and a black dress. I entered the orchestra section and slid into the Kaufman scarlet seat, nervously fanning through the program. I tried to pretend I was one of them. I snuck a handful of almonds out of my backpack, I know NOT classy but I was starving and running late, in my defense. I held my breath. The curtains drew upwards and my heart leaped inside of me.
**************
Last class I realized the extent of my hyper-extended knees. I am painfully aware of them now. I can’t balance, I can’t pirouette because I try to lock them back. I’m self conscious of it? While everyone else was flying about the room doing pique turns I was trying to balance on my leg without bending it. Oof! I talked to my teacher after class and she said they are tricky, just make sure I don’t lock them and to keep trying.
#danceproblems
*******
she watched the soft lavender
light on the floor
her body a corvette
as the muscles shifted
to the rhythm of the piano
her hands fell like soft snow
her eyelashes,
delicate daisies
as she peered through
them with cinnamon eyes
turning toward the mirror
********************
ballet in chicago
I jumped into the shower. 9 am. I have one hour to navigate the subway/El to downtown. I’m headed to the Joffrey. I’m nervous because this studio is insanely imitating. It's not exactly a warm place. It's competitive. I have always been ran through the wringer through these classes, to the point of tears. They are complex and more advanced than they say. I get it, sink or swim. Sink to swim. However, here I am. I haven't danced in two weeks and I'm chomping at the bit.
I enter the revolving door. The elevator. Check in. There is a row of people in the hall gossiping about the teachers. I throw my hair up and dig for my shoes. The basic ballet class was advanced. I struggled with a lot of the frappe combinations (which I notice is a pattern). Frappes vary from teacher to teacher, school to school, so figuring out the rhythm of each teacher is a challenge. We did an intense 45 minute barre and center consisting of developpés. DEVELOPPES. My weakness. Developpés.
If I say this enough times, will I automatically get better?
I embrace and acknowledge I need serious work at them. I actively remember to put my weight on the balls of my feet for the first time, most of all class.
We did chassé's and chaînnés, and I will admit I am getting slightly better. I struggle for balance with turns and relevés. Will it always be that way?
I jump on the train, with 40 minutes to spare to catch another beginner class. This class the teacher is lively, fun and uses visual imagery to illustrate how we should hold ourselves for specific movements. She drops the F bomb and is funny. We spent most of the class at barre going over breaking down every movement.
Four hours of sweating and I feel a little floaty, a little loopy. My body tired. But I know it's getting stronger.
Strengths:
Barre exercises
Weight transfer
Getting better:
Arm and body coordination
Relevé on demi point
Rond de jambs
More studying:
Developpés
Rond de jambs en lair
Pirouettes!
Dang you ballet, you have my heart.
**************
I’ve taken two more beginning classes at Joffrey ballet and one at Rast Studios. The beginning classes at “The Joffrey” (pronounced THE Jah-free with a breathy, stuck up voice for fun) consisted of triple pirouettes and advanced combinations. The first class wasn’t as complex and the second class almost made me faint. It was so intricate and our teacher never said a word to me although it was crystal clear I was struggling. The class at Rast was truly beginning. Every move was extremely slowed down so we could work on placement of every muscle, ligament and bone…which I still cannot get right for the life of me!!
*****************
I’m broke. But I must dance.
I take the bus and wait and walk a certain route to get to school. I listen to classical music on the way. I used to be envious of everyone driving to school. But now I realize it's my pre and post ballet time. I zone out, walk (warm up) and think about class. After class I cool down, gather my thoughts and relax as I walk to the bus.
No traffic. No gas. No sitting.
I am in tune with my body, thoughts and how I walk.
Today's class was difficult. There were bout 30 people in class. Some dancers. Some beginners. I sometimes feel as if I'll be in beginning ballet forever. There is always so much to work on.
My pirouettes! I have developed a fear of them! What happened? I was also too nervous to pique turn. What is my deal?
I am tired. I so wish we could be paid to dance. To stay in shape and better ourselves. And not to pay for it . Wouldn't that be nice? A girl can dream.
******
Coffee stain on my ballet tights from the bus ride, my hair in a messy damp bun. At least six company dancers in class today. We worked on complicated barre steps, waltzes and balancés!!
I was mortified and opted out on some center work but I tried to keep a smile on my face, since no one knows how to smile in ballet. Everyone was incredible, but boring. I tried clapping after a few groups went during adagio. Stone faced was the response. Serious. No joy.
WHY?!
My teacher helped me since I was so behind. Today was hard.
*****************
I was doing the thing I always do and circling around thoughts like a carousel about how I should just skip dance today. But I knew I should go.
It was an advanced level class.
Class consisted of a few younger training dancers and a few older ones and the random sprinkles of adults just enjoying it. This class also featured an 80 year old lady who was the best dancer (I've ever seen?)
She encapsulated the trance of dance. How did she do it?
I spent most of the class trying to remember things. I wasn't used to hearing those combinations. They were abrupt and methodical.
I refused to pirouette again. Miss H made a general overall announcement about not being scared to try them. She looked softly at me.
I looked away.
I wasn't scared. It was the equivalent of a writers block. A pirouette block. It's like my heart just stopped trying to put the courage together to do them.
I did center adagio with a little more bravery than I ever have. I did the arabesque promenade turn without hesitation, simply because we had worked on these in Chicago.
Miss H is one of the best. She is sharp and never hesitates. I can feel her mind processing and listening and assessing to the rhythm of the ivory keys being pressed. The pianist lately has been handsome.
Is he? Or am I just trying to find an in class distraction.
I am starting to notice everything reminds me of dance.
Plants. Trees. Flowers. Wind. Clouds.
**************
Ballet class.
*Sigh*
It felt so good to be back in a studio. It was located in a vintage “vibe” building with a slender corridor filled with ballet drawings and prints of Degas’ Ballerinas. The studio itself was long and narrow. There was an antique, white piano in the corner. Beginning ballet. I got this. I thought.
I thought maybe my teacher thought I was more advanced than I was because of my worn out looking shoes. She inquired about my life/background. I was hesitant to answer. I’ve never had a teacher talk to me while class was in session before.
Class began and barre work was grueling.
How are there always moves I have never done/heard of before? I felt a little foolish I suppose. But the teacher was patient and humorous. I tried to turn off my brain and turn on my muscle memory. It was tricky.
I struggled with combinations, pirouettes, petite battement and ronde de jambe en lairs.
But I felt so peaceful just to be back in class. I know I always have resting bitch face in ballet but I was happy. Really happy. I could have cried.
I left the studio trying to resist practicing the tricky combinations on the street.
I felt like I was floating. I was truly I think. I wish I could make everyone feel how I feel in ballet.
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