Is Ballet Where We Thought It Would Be?

A young dancer asked me this question, recently. Wow, you could write a book answering it.

There are many retired dancers/teachers who say, with a dismissive air, that ballet was better when they were dancing. That's arrogant and insulting to dancers currently dancing. Ballet is better, no question. Technique has improved; all you have to do is look at pirouettes. Positions are cleaner and more turned out. You have more people doing more pirouettes, today. The level of technique is better than when I was dancing.

But, there are no true artists, the old ones say. Crap, I say. Of course there are true artists. There are dancers pushing the boundaries of not only technique, but art, as well. Ivan Vasiliev of the Bolshoi is technically astounding and he is growing as an artist every day. Some of the Russian ladies are getting a little carried away with flexibility, but they are also setting new standards, as are dancers in the Royal, ABT, everywhere. To say the past was better is simply not true.

It was different.

I love the Russians of the 60's and 70's. Their strength, their passion, their fire was AMAZING. Their technique was not as good as today's. Yuri Vladimirov was wild and passionate. Soloviev's jump was well-nigh unbelievable. Valery Panov will always be my favorite dancer, and was the reason I chose ballet over jazz and Broadway. But their technique was of their time. If they were dancing today, they would be even better because the training is better. Vasiliev is doing things no one even conceived of back then. Still Panov, Soloviev and the others were brilliant, jaw-dropping, wonderful, and I am not criticizing them in any way. I wish I could have danced like them. They would be stars today, but there are many more who are up there with them. Well, maybe not "up there" with Soloviev. Find him in "Le Corsiare" on youtube and you will simply not believe your eyes.

When I was studying, many teachers said you shouldn't drink water during class. They said it would go straight to your knees. What the hell did that mean? I knew, coming from a sports background, that dehydration was an athlete's worst enemy, and dance is a form of athletics. Gerald Arpino, my old boss and co-founder of The Joffrey Ballet, called us "Artistic Athletes". I was one of the first to embrace things like protein bars and drinks. I cross-trained, running, swimming and riding my bike while I was dancing.

Did I mention that during my 18 year career, I never had a knee injury?

The training, by encompassing more of the athletic world, has produced better dancers, and so, ballet is better. Do I think anything has been sacrificed? Higher legs over proper characterization? There have always been dancers (Or painters, or sculptors or singers, or what have you) who have been more interested in how many or how much, rather than how. Yes, we all know Margot Fonteyn never raised her leg above ninety degrees and she was an astounding artist, but the gold medal winner in the hundred meters in 1960 would be left in the dust by Usain Bolt.

Now, I keep telling my students that dancing is so much more than how many pirouettes you can do, or how high your leg is, BUT you still have to be able to turn well and get your leg up to compete at today's high level (pardon the pun). Still, don't get carried away. I had a wonderful student who could develope her leg pretty much to her shoulder and kept trying to get it higher. I told her, it was high enough; she kept trying to push it. One day, she will realize it, hopefully before she injures her hips.

Along with that technique, you must have passion. You must bring an audience to its feet with your turns and jumps, but you must also bring them to tears with your characterizations. The great Igor Youskevitch, one of my teachers, could reduce an audience to a sobbing mess just by walking across the stage to lay flowers at Giselle's grave. My own Dad, Kazimir Kokich, could draw every eye to him, just by sauntering through a crowd of dancers to make a pass at some girl. Without that emotional content, without that inner flame, dance is reduced to mere physical tricks.

So, is ballet where we thought it would be? I'm not sure. I didn't really think about that when I was dancing. I was just happy to have a job doing what I loved. Dance, in general, is more popular than ever, with all the dance programs on TV. I didn't think that would happen. There isn't as much money for dance as there used to be. I did think that would happen, since I lived through the cuts in NEA funding in the 80's.

I do know that I have some outstanding students who are going to have fine careers. A few of them will be true artists and will contribute to dance as both performers and, later, teachers and directors. I'm happy to see a level of technique that makes me stand up and applaud, that makes me cry at the beauty and innocence, that warms my heart, because I know the art I dedicated my life to will never die, and flourishes today with a generation of talented, determined and wonderful artists.

Is ballet where it should be?

Yup.

See you in class.

How do you know when you're doing too much?

One of my students asked me this today. She takes a lot of classes and teaches and choreographs, and today was sore and tired, which prompted the question. In sailing, the answer to "When should you reef the sails?" is "The first time you think of it."

When your body starts to ache, to hurt, when it's telling you not simply to rest, but to stop, NOW, perhaps that is when you have reached the "too much" point. When injuries that should heal quickly, don't, when you can't remember the last time you didn't feel tired, when you start to question your love of the art, all these are red flags that say "too much".

Side note: this is a great site. Thanks, Gloria, for recommending it:
http://www.med.nyu.edu/hjd/harkness/patients/injuries/

One way to prevent injuries, is to do everything as correctly as possible, but the quest for perfection in dance can be deadly. We can always be better, and we should strive to be the best we can be, but there is the Law of Diminishing Returns. More is not better. Yes, you need to take a good amount of classes, not simply to work on your technique, but to increase your strength and stamina. One of the flaws in ballet class is the shortness of the exercises. The longest thing you're going to do in class is an adagio, or a long fondue combination that will last for 2 minutes, maybe. When you start performing, you quickly realize that "Waltz of The Flowers", or the Entrance of the Shades in "La Bayadere", or "Les Patineurs" are all a hell of a lot longer than 2 minutes, so you need some kind of stamina base so you don't die in your first rehearsals.

That being said, you can take too many classes. Not only physical fatigue sets in, but mental fatigue as well, and that takes a lot longer to recover from. If you're physically tired, a good night's sleep and you're good to go (remember to take that one day off a week). If you're emotionally exhausted, that can linger for weeks, and is downright dangerous, not only in dancing, but driving a car, or just walking down the street. If you do the exercises thoroughly, two classes a day is plenty. If you have the drive and energy to do more, by all means, go for it, but learn to listen to your body. It's going to give you the answer to
How do you know when it's too much?

Or. maybe it's time to reef the sails.

See you in class.

Starting Over

I tell my students that, when coming back from a vacation or injury or any time away from ballet, they should take the opportunity to start over. I don't mean forget all you knew about dancing; I mean, use the "new" time for your body to really dance properly.

When we, as dancers, get into a class, or class/rehearsal rhythm, we start to develop habits in our training. Some of these are conscious, as in working on something we don't do as well as we would like, or avoiding something we know we should work on, but don't. Some are completely unconscious, such as favoring one side, doing pirouettes more to our preferred side, or rehearsing a part and not realizing that it's all on one leg.

Coming back from an injury, we tend to work very correctly, so we don't re-injure ourselves (or, at least, we should). Coming back from a vacation can be all sorts of things: you come back slowly, which is good, too slowly, which isn't so good, or too fast, which isn't good at all.

I was thinking about all this the other day, when I was missing my students (yes, I do think about you when you're not around), and I thought, why wait for the vacation, or injury, to "start over"? Why not make it a daily thing (starting over, not getting injured).

Ballet class is your entire career in a microcosm. You begin with small, simple movements, holding on to the barre (not so tight!). When the body is ready (warmed up- which you should be when you start class, but that's a subject for another blog), you move on to more complex/difficult stuff, then you move to the center, and on and on, to the grande allegro. Every class affords you the opportunity to "start over". Every class, you can "learn" your technique anew, but with the added benefit of all the things you already know. You can go through the corrections your teachers have given you about specific stuff before you do it, apply them, and teach yourself to dance all over again, every day.

Every time you step to the barre to start class should be fresh. Yes, there are the aches from yesterday's classes or rehearsals. Yes, you might still be rolling on your feet. Yes, school, life, etc. may be weighing you down. All that has to be taken into account, of course, but it doesn't have to stop you from doing what you're in class for in the first place, learning to dance better. You can do that by "starting over" every day.

Happy New Year, and see you in class.

Recommended Holiday Viewing

I was very lucky to have grown up in New York. I lived right next door to the City Center Theatre, and within walking distance of Lincoln Center, and all the Broadway theatres. If I wanted to go see a ballet, or any kind of dance performance, I could leave my apartment at 7:30 and pretty much make it to any theatre by 8PM. In the case of City Center, I could leave at 7:55. When I was a student at SAB, it was a common occurrence to be leaving evening class and have someone on the school staff hand you tickets to NYCB at the State Theatre, and "order" you to go see the performance. We didn't have to be told twice.

My students here in LA don't have those kind of opportunities. However, youtube is one of the greatest dance teaching aids ever. Where I had access to dozens of dance performances any night of the week, youtube provides you with thousands, at any hour of the day or night.

Here are some suggestions:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OYiMNsSe6s
Flames of Paris Pas de deux with Osipova and Vasiliev, the Beast of the Bolshoi.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HP8U62qHcnE
Yugi Ogasawara, 17, and Myles Thatcher 16

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=csFqrkx9FF4
Viegnsay Valdes. Astounding fouettes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NaqouUlHX5M
1976 (the technique has evolved, but the passion is amazing)  Timofeyeva and Vladimirov

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wlso3-JuD6c
The great Yuri Soloviev from around 1960

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3J1YssDjjsc
Kolesnikova. The video is squeezed, so she isn't really nine feet tall, but she's still... tall.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4u7ja9xAGcU
Kumakawa, one of the greatest male dancers of all time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4u7ja9xAGcU
Carlos Acosta. Some of the most beautiful pirouettes, ever.

Enjoy.

See you in class.

Rest

When I decided to become a dancer, my godmother, Alexandra Danilova, a famous ballerina, told me I had to take one day a week and do nothing, and two weeks a year and do nothing. The woman taught into her 90's, so she knew what she was talking about.

Resting is the hardest thing for a dancer, of any age, to do. We're physical beings, and only feel like dancers when we're dancing (or when you wake up feeling like you've been run over by a truck). If you don't rest, however, you will have that just-run-over feeling ALL THE TIME. The body needs time to heal and recharge, especially if you've been performing. If you're simply physically tired, a good night's sleep can do wonders, but if you've been going through emotionally trying times, such as doing 6 "Nutcrackers" in four days, that kind of fatigue can last a LOOONG time. That's why you need to rest on a regular basis.

Do not think that one day a week will take the place of regular sleep. Don't try and tell me "Oh, I do fine on five hours a night." No, you do not. Most people are not truly awake because they haven't been truly asleep. You don't hit that necessary deep sleep until several hours of continuous sleep. Five hours just won't cut it. 7-9 is the normal range and you have to find out what works for you, but no one, NO ONE can function at their best on less than 7. Oh, you can get away with it for a little while, A LITTLE WHILE, but it catches up with you. Your body will try and tell you, nicely at first, with minor aches, some soreness. That progresses to muscle spasms, then pulls, tears and breaks. Save yourself all that and get a good night's sleep EVERY NIGHT.

Yeah, I know, with ballet, homework and life in general, there aren't enough hours in the day. If you want to be the best you can be, at anything, you need to rest, you need to sleep.

Good night, and see you in class.

Being a Professional

Another post, written about "Nutcracker" a few years ago.


Some people define a professional as someone who is paid for what they do. This is part of the definition, sure, but there is far more to being a professional than that. I have known some "professional dancers" who had no right to the other parts of the definition, parts that deal with personal conduct, attitude and response to pressure or a crisis.

One of my students was dancing a lead role in "Nutcracker" this past weekend. In her first entrance, she had a bit of a stumble and came offstage doing her best to laugh it off. I could see that it meant more than that; before her next entrance she said, in a "joking" tone, that she had to redeem herself.

Now this girl is young and I will cut young people a lot of slack, especially in a high-pressure environment such as a series of performances during the holidays, after an extensive rehearsal period, the weekend before finals, blah, blah... blah. If she had let her early stumble get to her and affect the rest of her performance, I would have said something gentle, yet firm, about being in a lead role and having responsibilities as a principal and how she could not let that happen again.

I did not have to.

She went back on stage and danced exquisitely. I wasn't amazed at how good she was, but with how she stepped up and took her dancing to another level, a professional level. Her balances were sure, her extensions eloquent, her jumps spectacular. The role is not only technically demanding, but a real breather. Usually corps work is physically harder, with soloists coming on and off with the more complex and elaborate steps, but this just keeps going and going and ends with a series of pirouettes- well, you get the idea.

I was so proud of her. She ignored the previous error and went on to do her best show of the weekend. She showed what it is to be a professional, no matter whether you are paid or not.

Good girl!

Merry Christmas.

Tight Calves

I wrote this a few years ago, when Gerald Arpino was still alive. He may be gone, but I still wouldn't cross him.

One of my students said to me, with quite a distressed look on her young face, "My calves are tight and really hurt! What can I do?"

Okay, if your calves, or any of your muscles are tight and causing you pain, there are two things you must look at first; water and stretching- are you getting enough of either? Dehydration is a primary cause of muscle cramps, and tight muscles are heading that way; every time you use a muscle, you are contracting it, so you must stretch it out as well.

You must drink water. You must drink a lot of water. You must drink water on a frequent basis. You should take a water bottle with you into class and take a couple of sips at least every 15 minutes. If you are with a teacher that doesn't let you drink water, run, run away, run away screaming from this lunatic! Dehydration is an athlete's worst enemy and ANYONE who says dancers aren't athletes is a fool. Go ahead; tell 'em I said so! No lesser than Gerald Arpino, co-founder and current Artistic Director of The Joffrey Ballet calls dancers "Artistic Athletes" and if you want to argue with him, I have only one thing to say to you: where do you want your body sent?

Quick tip: every time you pass a water fountain, anywhere, take a sip.

Stretching is like drinking water; you probably won't do too much. (Now don't go out and try to prove me wrong and stretch so much you look like an old rubber band). In an ideal world, you would stretch after every exercise. As it is, most dancers wait until they've done something really strenuous, like one of my fondue combinations, to stretch and that's like waiting until you're thirsty to drink water- it's too late, you're already dehydrated. Stretch BEFORE your muscles get tight, and drink water BEFORE you get thirsty, that way, your muscles won't get tight and you won't get thirsty.

Yes, it is that simple.

But, wait, there's more!

Your technique has a great bearing on how tight or loose your muscles are. I learned this the hard way- I tore a calf muscle. Two months before I had to go guest in a NUTCRACKER! I had to quickly relearn landing (and stretching), but I did, and when I went to do my NUTCRACKER, the local director said I had the softest plie she had ever seen. This was because I had changed my technique out of sheer necessity. I do not recommend doing it that way. Try this, instead; when you land from a jump, you must use the muscles in your feet and calves to control the landing, placing the heel gently onto the floor, but after your heel is down, you can relax the calves, using the muscles in your thighs and hips to keep control. If you keep a muscle under constant tension, it occludes the blood flow (go look it up) and fuel (nutrients) cannot get into the muscle. This results in fatigue. One of the reasons marathoners can run such incredibly long distances, is they have trained their muscles to relax as well as contract, so that there is a constant flow of fuel. If you don't relax your calves when you have the opportunity, they will get very tired very quickly. I was working with a fantastic dancer last year on the Lilac Fairy variation for Sleeping Beauty and I made it a point (pardon the pun) to get her to relax her calves at certain moments, giving the muscles vital time to rest. Just coming off pointe for a few seconds and walking gently (in classical ballet style) gave her enough rest to get through a dificult solo.

Furthermore, you MUST put your heels down when you plie, either in adagio, turn combinations, or jumps. This is where I disagree with Mr, Balanchine. I think Balanchine dancers are wonderful and I base a lot of my teaching on Mr. B's principles, but keeping the heels off the floor is something I think is simply wrong, We were taught at SAB that you should be able to slip a piece of paper under your heel at all times. This puts constant and, in my opinion, undue stress on the calves, never giving them a chance to relax. (The guys in my class actually wrote a song, "Tendonitis Blues" about the subject). You must put your heels down, not slam them into the floor, of course, but put them down, to relax the calves and for balance. Mr. B felt that keeping them off the floor allowed for greater speed, but there are better ways to teach this. The Bournonville style of not sitting in your plie, and taking off again the instant your heels contact the floor, is much safer and can be just as fast. The great Stanley Williams taught this. To do this properly, you have to be able to relax your calves instantly, so that you can get that moment of rest. Practice, practice, practice. It isn't bouncing, but that's a subject for another blog.

So, water, stretching, and putting your heels down properly. Those three things will go a long way to giving you supple calves and a soft plie.

See you in class.

Beats

Batterie. Entrechats. Beats.

A rose by any other name...

Uncrossing and crossing the legs, as in entrechats quatre or entrechats six, can be spectacular to watch and, like much of ballet, very frustrating to learn. There are a few different ways to perform (and teach) beats, but they all encompass uncrossing and crossing the legs. Some schools favor opening the legs wide, others prefer keeping the opening small and emphasizing the crossing more. I teach beats by emphasizing the first battu, the first crossing of the legs. My changements (called "Jerry's changements" by one of my students, although I take no credit for them; the great Stanley Williams taught me how to do them and I simply pass on his teachings) are not simply jumping up and landing with the other foot front. I want the legs to change instantly. The instant your toes leave the floor, you have changed the position of your legs. You do not wait, you do not open the legs and wait till you land to put them back into fifth; you change instantly. This first battu, this first crossing, takes care of two movements, each movement of the legs being counted as one movement. From fifth, out is "Un", in is "Deux"; one, two, with each "In" going to a strong, crossed, fifth position.

Fifth position is often referred to as a position of the feet, when in reality it is a position of the legs. You must feel fifth postion in your thighs, very high up, not in your ankles. Since turnout is rotation of the leg in the hip socket, proper turnout will allow you to have a very high (in the legs) fifth position. Since beats go from fifth to fifth most of the time, you have to cross the legs very high, just as you should stand in fifth.

The problem with a lot of jumps is not starting whatever you are doing soon enough. If I asked you to jump up and do entrechats six on the way down, you'd say "Jerry, now you're talkin' crazy!" And yet, that is what a lot of dancers do; they wait to start their aerial work. You must begin the instant your toes leave the floor; it gives you more time. Some dancers think, for entrechats six for instance, that you have to jump really high to do them. In the Danish school, you are expected to move your legs so rapidly that you don't have to jump high in order to perform a six; if you jump really high, they expect you to do more beats, such as huit or even dix. Entrechats six was originally a woman's step, performed very rapidly and in a very exciting way, close to the floor. To do this, you have to change the legs quickly, and practicing by doing changements Stanley's way will help.

One of my students said another teacher was telling her she had to open her legs more- she was confused as to which was right. Both this other teacher and I are saying the same thing, just in different ways. Yes, you must open the legs first- how else can you cross them if you don't un-cross them first? What you must do after you open them is cross them, REALLY cross them, back into fifth, then repeat until you've done your quatre or six or douze (twelve uncrossings and crossings, which Nijinsky could do). If you don't cross your beats, they not only don't look very good, they aren't correct. Most dancers have got the opening part down, but they don't cross their legs in the air enough. Emphasizing the first crossing will help that and that's what Stanley's changements do.

Now, after we get that first changement down, we move to entrechats quatre. If you've done the first change instantly, then all you do is open the legs and land in fifth with your other foot front. It will actually feel as if you haven't done anything, as one of my students said when she really got it. It should feel more like "Change-land" instead of "Out-in-out-in". You've still opened the legs, but you've conceptualized the step differently, making it seem easier, which is what proper technique should feel like; easier, not harder. When you do a step right, it actually is easier. Proper technique is a more efficient way of performing a step, using less muscular energy due to coordination of body mechanics.

Wow, is that a mouthful!

Going further, entrechats six should feel like "Change-change-land", not "Out-in-out-in-out-in". In fact, the way you practice sixes is by doing quatres as fast as you can, and then landing with the other foot front. Don't think six is an entirely different beast; many dancers who have good entrechats quatres do this and their sixes are more rubbing the heels together than real beats.

So, you must cross your legs in your beats. Yes, you open them, but then you must cross them, REALLY CROSS THEM, just like your fifth position, and you must start this the instant you leave the floor.

See you in class.

Performing

Another of my "classic" posts. Some of you may recognize the dancer I refer to.

Several of my students are going to be competing in the YAGP competition. In preparation, we had a little "performance" at the studio. About fifty of the younger students crowded into our main studio to watch and applaud, and our dancers did wonderfully. The head of the studio, who had deliberately not been in rehearsals so the dancers wouldn't feel pressured, was extremely happy and impressed.

Afterward, one of the dancers admitted to being quite nervous before her variation. She said "Why do I do this?! I get so nervous before performing!" She is an exquisite young dancer with an exciting career ahead of her. Her technique is lovely, strong and expressive and everyone loves watching her. At her age (15, which I am sure seems quite old to her), getting up in front of people to do anything can create more than a few butterflies in her stomach, and dancing, which is very vulnerable emotionally, makes it seem even worse.

She'll get used to it. As she grows as a person and an artist, she will become more confident and at ease on stage. She will immerse herself in whatever character she is portraying, if in a story ballet, or in the demands of the technique, if in a plotless one. She may or may not forget that an audience is watching; either is okay- at the end of the performance, the applause she will undoubtedly receivve will let her know they were there.

There is so much to learn about ballet and performing; getting used to being watched is one of those things. That fear she feels now will change to excitement. Instead of feeling "Why do I have to go to the bathroom, AGAIN?!", she'll be thinking of how wonderful being on stage makes her feel. Instead of worrying about all the little things that can drive you crazy, lights, costumes, hair, makeup, life, she'll be exploring the emotional depths of her characterization of Giselle, or the wild abandon of Kitri, or the grand graciousness and protective nature of the Lilac Fairy.

She'll be fine.

See you in class.

Turns

I wrote this one a while ago.

I was so juiced today! Two of my students made breakthroughs in pirouettes. They found what the great Stanley Williams called "One...". They found what I try to teach for turns; no numbers, no limits.

"One...".

When you do chaines across the floor, you don't think, "I'm going to do twenty-seven chaines"; you just chaine until you run out of room (or get too dizzy-SPOT!- or bump into something). Yet, when you do pirouettes, most dancers pick a number to go for. No, no, no. Unless a teacher or choreographer specifically asks for a certain number of pirouettes, you shouldn't limit yourself by saying "I'm going to do two." Or three, or five. The great turners don't know how many pirouettes they are going to do, they just turn, or as Stanley would say, "One...".

My two students today, did "One...". They just turned, They held a beautiful pirouette position, spotted in perfect rhythm and went around three times (I'll take care of the counting, thank you). They took very little force, they didn't speed up or slow down, they just turned.

"One...".

There's a girl on youtube who does 37 pirouettes. Really. She has found "One...". She just turns. It's like chaines. "One...". Hold your postions, spot in rhythm.

"One...".

See you in class.