Flat feet and questions

No, this isn't a blog about fallen arches, or high arches, or any arches at all, really. It's about what you do with those arches.

I was musing about ballet, the other day (I'm a geek), and came up with something that I think we all know, but sometimes don't really think about.

When dancing, your feet should be flat on the floor as much as possible.

Well, duh, Jerry.

Not so duh as you might think.

Whenever you plie, are you making sure you don't roll onto your big toe, every time? I wasn't the best dancer out there, but I tried to be very diligent about what little technique I had. One time, my sister and a friend had come backstage at the Kennedy Center (okay, so I drop names...) and were chatting with me as I was doing my warmup barre. My sister's friend looked at my feet and said, "Wow, you don't roll in at all." I also didn't have a knee injury in my 18 years as a dancer. You know when I got my first knee injury? Teaching. (Wasn't warmed up properly, did something I shouldn't. Don't worry; I'm better now).

I came to this conclusion about feet flat on the floor when re-reading a book on Balanchine technique (more on that, later).

I have a theory about teaching: Simple is better. I try to make things simple. Teachers (anyone) who make things overly complex are doing their students a disservice. The way I look at it, is this: Someone who tells you something is VERY complex and will take YEARS to understand is trying to take your money. I tell my students, ballet is simple. It really is. What it isn't, is easy. It is very difficult. That's why it takes years to get really good.

It's like chess. You can learn the moves of all the men in about 15 minutes, probably less. Get really good? A lifetime. True masters at anything are always learning, always evolving, always asking questions.

That brings me to my next point.

George Balanchine.

I was lucky enough to study at SAB.

Mr. B. was brought up in the old Russian school, but helped to lead ballet into the 20th century. He created Neo-Classical Ballet. He wasn't satisfied with what ballet was, felt there were better ways to learn, dance and teach, and questioned what he had been taught. He came up with whole new ways to do tendu, to shift weight, to dance. When he started his Neo style, he was criticized by many old teachers as being, simply, wrong. This did not stop him. He knew ballet must always be an art that grows, or it will die. It is performed by living, breathing artists, and they must always be growing. An actress on a set said a high school teacher of hers (whose name I, unfortunately, do not know) told her, "You're born, you learn, then you die."

Think about what that means.

When you stop learning, you die.

We should always be learning. That is why some of the things I learned at SAB I agree with whole-heartedly, and some I don't. I have one of the best ballet books ever written on Balanchine technique, by Suki Schorer, a brilliant dancer and teacher. It is amazingly detailed, and extensive. Every dancer should read it.

We should also question it.

I'm a Sagittarian, so I question a lot of things in my search for the truth. I do not question just for the sake of being a rebel; that doesn't make any sense to me. Do not be a rebel without a cause; that makes you a rebel without a brain. If something doesn't make sense, of course, ask. If your teacher, or whoever, cannot explain it, maybe you are the one who will find the truth about it, whatever it is. Maybe you will find a new way to teach pirouettes, or jumps. Who knows? Balanchine didn't when he was young, but it became his life's work.

Reading Ms. Schorer's book, I found some things that contradict each other, and some that simply don't make sense. I have taken these things and, in a tribute to Mr. B. and his quest for ballet truth, dissected them and found better ways to teach them.

BLASPHEMY! BURN HIM!

Let me say here that anyone who slavishly adheres to one syllabus, even Mr. B.'s, does an injustice to him. He questioned. Why can't we? Wasn't a quest for the truth behind what he was doing? Shouldn't ballet continue to grow into the 21st century? If we robotically teach only what Mr. B. said, we deny his work. Ballet stops, somewhere in the 1970's. When Stanley WIlliams came to NY to teach at SAB, his style was different from Mr. B.'s. After a while, Stanley started to teach more like Mr. B. and Mr. B. started to teach more like Stanley, so you see, Mr. B. was constantly adapting, constantly growing, constantly questioning, EVEN HIMSELF!

My teaching style has elements from every syllabus, because every syllabus has something important to say, and every syllabus has trained and will continue to train, fantastic dancers. I believe that every ballet dancer should explore every other ballet syllabus, just like they should explore every other type of dance. You don't have to like everything, but you should know something about other forms, if only so you can know what you don't like. You also never know what you'll be asked to do in your career. In "Rodeo" we all had to do a time-step, travelling in a circle, backwards, around another dancer. I really wish I had taken tap before that, so I wouldn't have had to fake it.

The whole point of this is that dancers, as all artists, should be constantly learning. I'm still learning (remember the whole flat feet thing?) Mr. Joffrey encouraged us to go see other forms of dance, to museums, poetry readings, anything that would help us grow as artists. Learn, explore, question, or, in Latin, Discere, Explorare, Quaestio.

Maybe that should be above the door to every ballet studio.

See you in class.

J