Ballet School Show

It’s been ages since I’ve added any posts, but since last October I danced in my first show at my ballet school. Before then, I’ve only ever done a couple of shows from my adult ballet class. It was fun, but it was the first time I danced with teenagers. Everyone is so good that I suddenly found myself losing confidence in my own abilities. I started having thoughts like, ‘I’m really rubbish.’ Ballet Teacher noticed my technique had slipped after the show. She said that the second I start gettting bogged down about my feet, my body crumples whereas I am aiming for the opposite. If my body crumples, it means I’m not pulling up so everything I do looks awful. ‘The minute you enter the studio, you are a dancer,’ she said. ‘You don’t need perfect feet to be one.’ I know she’s right, as always.

Accepting Compliments

It’s so difficult to accept compliments as a dancer.

Last Friday as we were getting changed after class, two girls told me I was a talented dancer. This threw me because I know that if the work I produce looks half-decent, it’s only because I have been taught well. I’m not being modest; it’s just the truth.

However, the girls thought otherwise; I think they thought I was being modest. But maybe whether I’m right or they were right doesn’t matter. I know every dancer has classes where they feel they could have done so much better. So their comments gave me a boost and I felt better about my work.

Classical ballet is so hard because the goal posts keep moving; you’re always reaching for the next thing. The aim is to keep improving and there’s never a point where you feel, ‘I can just relax now’. But I like to think that this proves that the girls’ comments were correct; you can’t possibly judge the quality of your dancing yourself.

‘That Girl’

A couple of summers ago I went to a group of adult classes, which were packed. There were no other classes running, plus a wonderful and talented teacher was taking the class. So it wasn’t surprising that were at least 20 dancers keen to dance in a hot, sweaty studio on a weekday evening. 

Among us dancers there was one girl I just couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was amazing! I had seen her at other open classes and she always stood out. There were countless other dancers, including those at vocational school and professional dancers, but she was in a league of her own.

It wasn’t that she was a soloist/principal at the Royal Ballet/English National/etc, or something. She didn’t have endless legs and/or look like a beanpole. In fact, she just looked like a slim, healthy young woman. But the way she moved was amazing and she said she was a dance teaacher. After seeing her I spent ages trying to emulate what she had.

There was another girl who used to go to my ballet school and who ended up going to vocational school. Obviously, she was talented and had the right body proportions. Everything was effortless for her. I envied how relaxed her body was, yet at the same time her work looked technically correct. While I wish my work looked that good, I didn’t want to be her. I wanted to dance like that other girl.

I find it interesting that she is the only dancer I’ve come across who I’ve wanted to emulate. What was it she had? It’s that special something, which can’t be taught no matter how talented you are. It’s also about having confidence too.

My contempory teacher talked about the same thing recently. He said so many dancers leave vocational school and can’t get work because they’re tecnhically correct in what they do, but emotionally dead. He told me this because he felt I was getting too hung up on being technically correct. It’s difficult to be more relaxed when you’re used to classical technique.

So I’d like to become ‘that girl’ I saw a couple of summers ago. You can’t really dance exactly like someone else because you’re an individual. But you can do your best to make sure you’re not being technically correct and emotionally dead in your work. You want to let the technique help you interpret the music. That’s what we should all strive for.

Royal Opera House Bargin

I was early for class on Saturday and wondering into one of the charity shops nearby. I was delighted to come across a Royal Opera House CD recording of highlights of The Nutcracker, Swan Lake and The Sleeping Beauty. And it was only 99p! Even my teacher was impressed.

At the moment the CD is living in my desk drawer at work. I love the music. ‘Waltz of the Flowers’ from the The Nutcraker is one of my favourite pieces of music. Every time I hear it I can see myself doing temp leves and balances on a big stage. There’s something very indulgent about that piece of music.

Shoe Sizes

Here is another thing people and ballet books don’t tell you when you start pointe work; your feet get smaller. A teacher mentioned it one day and I didn’t think much of it. I only realised I was affected when shoes I bought in the sale last year didn’t fit me anymore; they’re now far too big! I had kept them for the summer months and now they’ll have to go to the charity shop. Unless I can find a way to customise them to my feet.

Weight Issues

I’ve studied pointe work for just over a year now. I’m amazed how much my weight dictates whether pointe class will be go smoothly or a struggle. But they don’t tell you this in any ballet book or discussion forum!

Two pounds is all it takes. I’ve discovered that if I’m two pounds lighter, pointe work is pretty painless and I won’t feel that terrible drop of energy in the middle of class. I think it might be known as ‘hitting the wall’ for marathon runners. Being two pounds lighter I also look a lot more streamlined as well; always a bonus in a world, which favours skinny girls (if we’re being blunt about it).

I learnt my lesson about watching my weight over Christmas last year. I had about 3 weeks without class and while I tried to keep active I indulged in Christmas treats and a few mince pies. Dark chocolate is weakest point; I can give up on any naughty food stuff but I love chocolate so much! Anyway, first class after break in my intermediate class I only had to two rises en pointe before I was exhausted. Just two! I was shocked and embarrassed.

Even now when I know I should watch what I eat I still find I can’t resist chocolate when it calls out to me.

Dance wear doesn’t help either. I’m a size 10 (British) but that’s a large in leotard sizing, unfortunately. My teacher says if a dancer puts on a pound, the dancer will feel it, if she puts on two pounds the teacher will notice, and if she puts on three pounds the audience will notice. It’s so true.

Bloch Soft Pointes

It’s ironic that there’s nothing at all soft about these shoes: http://www.dancedirect.com/uk/Products/Footwear/SO135/bloch-demipointe-pointshoe-danceshoes-so135/. In fact, when they were pristine from the shop I could rise en pointe in them (after ribbons were sewn on, of course). That’s dangerous I know. But it just goes to show how hard they are.

I’ve worn them a couple of times in class, but by the end of barre work my toes are in agony. I try to igore the pain that builds up during barre, but it doesn’t help. I’ve heard other girls say that they’re comfortable so it’s frustrating that they’re giving me so much bother. I’ve tried bending them, sitting on them and steaming them with a boiling kettle. Several times this week I’ve poured boiling water on the areas of the shoes, which pinch, then walking around the house wearing them. It’s not pleasant deliberately putting on soaking-wet shoes, but if it works it’s worth it.