Always Find The Beauty

One of the reasons I chose ballet was because I like being around beauty. I like beautiful things. Ballet is about beauty. Beautiful movement, beautiful music. But, Jerry, what about music that's atonal, or movements that aren't supposed to be beautiful, or evil characters?

Everything has beauty. It's your job as a ballet dancer to find that beauty.

Now, it's easy to find the beauty of the Sugar Plum Fairy, or Prince Siegfried. Even Myrtha, the Queen of the Wilis, who is a stone cold killer, must be beautiful. Her beauty is part of what makes her so terrifying. Where is the beauty of a grotesque character like Carabosse in "Sleeping Beauty", or the frightening visage of Death in "The Green Table"? How do you take the Rat King and make him (or her) a thing of beauty?

In "The Lady and The Hooligan", a 1962 ballet by Konstantin Boyarsky to music by Shostakovich, the Lady is obviously beautiful. The Hooligan, a common street thug, is her complete opposite. Where she is refined, he is crude. Where she is gentle, he's a brute. Where she is graceful, he is ungainly. His opening variation has him stomping around the stage, spitting, flexing his muscles. Yet, he must also have his own beauty. Beneath his rough exterior, there is a loving heart. Beneath his bravado, there is a yearning to be known for his kind soul. His beauty is within. She brings it out.

In "The Green Table", Death is a towering, unstoppable force of Nature. He stalks the battlefield, taking victim after victim. Wearing a plumed helmet, skeletal costume and heavy boots, his face is a horrifying skull, striking terror into the hearts of all who see him. How do you make that beautiful? The power and majesticity of his movements can and should be beautiful, but there are moments of unexpected kindness, which give the dancer the opportunity to create beauty from horror. A Young Girl is forced into prostitution because of the war. She dances with an Old Soldier who takes pity on her, but she knows that there will be others who will not treat her as well... Death comes for her, violently, at first, dragging her around the stage. Then, suddenly, he embraces her gently. She finds escape from her horrible situation in his arms. He gives her the peace of the grave, carefully lowering her body to the stage. He becomes her savior. He is beautiful to her.

Sometimes the beauty is simply in the choreography. Our Rat King in Santa Clarita, is always played by one of our senior ladies, and en pointe. Carol Guidry, the choreographer, gives the dancer demanding classical steps that allow her to show off her pointe work, her extensions, jumps and turns. The costume is a stylized Victorian tunic and unitard, so the lady's legs can be seen, even though her face and head are hidden by a large rat's head. If the choreography gives you steps that are inherently beautiful, long lines, pleasant angles, good lighting, you're pretty much set, but if not, or the costume or makeup are at odds with that beauty, you have to find, or create the beauty. Maybe the character has an elegance that can shine through, or grace that becomes apparent in spite of the steps.

When you stand still on stage, or pause in a movement, you can say a lot. Your gaze, your focus, can say what's important to you. Maybe the beauty comes from what you see, instead of what the audience sees in you.

In the second act of "Giselle", Albrecht has a tough job. He must get the audience to like him. At the end of the first act, Giselle lies dead because his betrayal drove her mad and caused her weak heart to fail. He's pretty ugly at that point. How does he get his "beauty" back? He might get it, by seeing the beauty in Giselle. Maybe he never really looked at her; all he saw was a pretty little peasant girl. Now, he sees how much love there was, how much she loved him. He sees her begging Myrtha for mercy. The crack in Myrtha's armor shows her to be a woman who loved someone very deeply, once. The beauty there helps Albrecht get his back.

Always look for the beauty, especially where there seems to be none.

See you in class.

What Students Mean To Teachers

I took class with one of my favorite teachers, Willie Burmann, after not having been in his class for a while. When I walked in, he said hello, and asked me, "Are you still with Joffrey?"

I didn't even think he knew who I was, much less who I danced for.

When I was dancing, I never thought I meant anything to my teachers. It's not that I thought they were inconsiderate people, I just never thought I was important enough to be more than an insignificant blip on their radar. I never wrote to them after I had moved on, or called. I didn't think they would even remember who I was. I can't tell you how surprised I was, when I visited SAB a few years ago and saw Andrei Kramerevsky, still teaching in his 80's. I introduced myself (I hadn't seen him in 30 years), and he said, "I remember you."

Now that I teach, I realize how much my students mean to me. Not just the ones I see on a regular basis, but all of them. Students are a teacher's family. We really do care about them.

This weekend will see several of our graduating seniors doing their last show with us. One of my ladies, who is not in the show, was backstage during rehearsal. We talked about what she was going to be doing, where she would be going to college, etc. I told her that we, teachers, miss our students when they move on. She asked, "Really?" I said, "Yes. That first class when we look over and you're not at the barre... We miss you." Like me, I don't think she ever thought of that. Sure there are always new students, young ones coming into my class for the first time, some of them terrified, some excited, bringing new energy and new artistry with them, but we will always miss those who are no longer there.

Just like you should call your parents and tell them you love them, give your old teachers a call, or drop them an email. Just like your parents, we think about you all the time.

And we love you.

See you in class... Always...

Acting and Humor in Ballet

Oh, this one really could be an entire book.

I often tell my students to watch videos of the Russians from the 50's-60's-70's. The technique has changed and improved in many ways, but the main reasons I want them to see these great dancers is their passion and their acting. 

I see many dancers today who are fantastic technicians, but are lacking in the acting/passion department. Yes, it's the 21st century and legs must be higher (within reason), lines must be cleaner and you must do a lot of pirouettes, but without passion, acting and communication, ballet can be quite hollow. Even in the most abstract ballets, the dancer must communicate something to the audience, must make them feel something.

What has this to do with humor, Jerry? I'm glad you asked.

There are some ballets where the humor is obvious, even though it might get overlooked by the performers. In John Cranko's "Taming of The Shrew", there are many, many moments of outright hilarity. One night, for the wedding of Kate and Petruchio, we all lost it when Billy Forsyth suddenly appeared on stage as the Priest. The role is comedic, but he took it to another level, completely. Like I said, some moments are obviously played for a laugh, but others aren't, because they're not so obvious.

Kitri's first entrance in "Don Q", for example. One of the more common versions of the variation has her doing three crosses of the stage with high battements followed by split jetés, the last one kicking the back of her head. Then she starts another cross the same way, but instead of a high battement, she brushes her foot barely off the stage. "Psych!" Then she continues with a toss of her head and a laugh!  She's played a joke on the audience! Now, the dancer had to be sure that the audience knows it's not mean spirited; everyone loves Kitri. She plays with you, but never makes you feel like she's making fun of you.

There's other obvious humor in "Don Q"; Basilio faking his death with a straight razor and so on. There's humor in "Nutcracker". Heck, in "La Fille Mal Gardee" the darn thing starts with chickens! Here's one that might not spring readily to mind:

"Swan Lake".

Wait, what?!

Oh, yeah! Odile, the Black Swan, has a sly, biting sense of humor. In her variation, where she continues the seduction of Siegfried that began in the pas de deux, she blatantly makes fun of Odette! "Oh, geez, that Odette! Swan Queen? Drama Queen is more like it!"

Her variation starts out with raw, naked technique. "Look what I can do." A series of demanding pirouettes, done dead center stage- right in the middle of the palace ballroom- where you can't miss her. Another diagonal, displaying herself, with a quick, Odette-like Swan pose. Then she rushes to the corner, and makes fun of Odette's bourees, her flapping swan arms (Odile is not an enchanted creature; she's Von Rothbart's daughter, who resembles Odette close enough to be her twin), and the sissones from her variation, before returning to her own style of dancing. If the swan arms are done without knowing the insults Odile is making, they tend to look like bad flapping arms, which many dancers are guilty of in both roles (if I haven't gone off about that in a post, I'm sure I'll get to it).

This humor needs a consummate actress to pull off, as well as a dancer in complete control of her technique. You shouldn't hide so-so physical technique behind acting, jut as you shouldn't hide so-so acting behind physical technique. A dancer must understand that their technique, their actual technique, is both physical and emotional, and both must be worked on.

Acting classes for dancers? Heck, yeah! When I was working with a spectacular young dancer on the Temple Destruction variation from "La Bayadere", I loaned her some DVDs of Silent Movies for her to see some acting that really lends itself to ballet, but regular acting classes would be a great help, as well.

See you in class... both kinds...

En Dedans Pirouettes

You should be able to do as many en dedans pirouettes as en dehors pirouettes, if you're doing them correctly.

Oh, I hear the cries of protest, now! Let's dive right in, shall we?

When do dancers usually do the most en dehors pirouettes? When they're pulling in from fouettés or turns in second. Why? Because they're using the force from the leg swinging around to launch themselves into their turns. In partnering, when the woman swings her leg through second, as in finger pirouettes or whip turns, you can get a whole lot of pirouettes without that paddling that I hate (I'll get to that in another post, if I haven't already).

One of your legs is a fifth of your body weight. In grande allegro jumping, throwing the leg is a big part of the movement. In turning, it is also.

There are a number of ways to do en dedans pirouettes, including one that Mr. Joffrey taught that pretty much nobody does anymore. The two most common ways are taking the raised leg directly into retiré, and taking it through second position, in a fouetté movement. You will get much more force by doing the fouetté. (I'm assuming you know that you must have more balance than force).

Now, fouetté, whipping the leg, is a circular movement in this instance. So, why do so many teachers teach brushing the leg through first to start an en dedans pirouette? If you are in your typical lunge position to start your turn, and you brush your leg through first, you are performing a linear movement. You are throwing your energy to the side in a straight line, then trying to translate that into a circular movement. It's not impossible, but it will never generate enough force to give you a lot of turns.

I was taught the best way to do en dedans pirouettes by the great Luis Fuente. He regularly did nine in the ballet "Fanfarita"... with castanets! From his deep lunge preparation, he took his leg through a true, circular fouetté, doing a round de jamb to take the leg to second. Staying in plié until the leg got there, he would then bring the leg into retiré as he rose up to relevé, and around he would go!

I was actually told at one school (I'm no longer there) to stop teaching en dedans this way. They wanted me to do the brush through first, even though I could explain and prove that my way was better, AND none of their students could do many en dedans turns their way.

(You must also maintain the turnout of your standing leg throughout the turn. Every en dedans turn, in whatever position, is an en dedans promenade, which must be led by the standing leg. If you are constantly turning out your leg, leading with that heel, you will continue to turn because you will be over your standing leg. If you let that leg turn in, your weight drops back and you're done.)

Now, if you have to adhere to a specific syllabus for exams or certification, okay, do it their way when you have to, but if you actually want to do it well and get more than two turns...

See you in class.