I feel like I'm dating or something... Monday's date was really nice, but she wasn't my type, exactly. So, six blocks away, another studio, another teacher.
It wasn't promising, at first sight: basically, imagine what happens when you set up your dance studio in a converted self-storage garage type space. Yup.
No dressing room -- the other place was looking better and better -- it had the nicest dressing room I've ever seen at a ballet studio, to be honest. Date #2, not so much. I changed in the bathroom.
So, I'm waiting for class to start and the other students are starting to congregate. This very tall, skinny noodle, about 30, maybe, comes in. She's the kind of indie-chick I think I really wished I was, at that age, but I wasn't. A little dorky, a little cool. She starts stretching out and my god, the child has not a tendon in her body, evidently. I have never seen a white girl who was not Russian bend the way this youngster was bending. The other women, and the one guy, looked like Regular People, ranging in age, body type, and outfit from "Hello, I'm new at this," to "I bought this leotard in 1985 and I don't give a crap what you think." There were about eight of us all told. As we're finding our places at barre, and after I've introduced myself to the teacher, another tall skinny type, looking a bit like a yoga instructor with ballerina feet, Noodle Chick is stretching (again!) and one of the other students, who turned out to be a relative newbie, asks her "Are you a professional dancer?" Noodle Chick is embarrassed and flattered, and makes appropriate noises. The other girl says, "Because you;re so good." Noodle demurs -- no, she's not a professional, but she has been doing this for a while, off and on for years.
So, of course, out of the corner of my eye, I watch her. It helps that this is one of those weird studios with mirrors on three walls (WTF?) so you are constantly assaulted by your own, and everyone elses' reflections. Right off, like, during plies, I start to notice something incredibly disturbing about Miss Noodle. That hypermobility seems to have given her this bizarre disjointed, wiggly way of moving, so for example, when she does a grand port-de-bras, her whole middle comes unhinged. And her long, long, boneless arms are just flying everywhere, as if gravity itself is a bit cowed by their rubbery defiance.
Come grands battements, things get serious. I start to worry that Miss Noodle is going to do a damage to herself. Her back looks as if it's taking a huge amount of strain because the corollary to fantastic flexibility is, as we all know so well, poor tone. This woman has the moves, for sure, but it's strange to see a dancer who basically has no core, no center.
Meanwhile, the teacher isn't giving much correction, and certainly isn't messing with Noodle's contortions. Her combinations are challenging, from a mental standpoint, and she likes to set them to presto tempos. Good for the brain, good for training the feet and legs for petit allegro. Good for sweating buckets in the steamy southern California evening.
Center, and I get to watch Noodle in action -- beautiful extensions, of course, though no surprise she can not sustain them -- I think she simply doesn't have the strength. The more I watch her the more I worry about her -- there's something disjointed, literally, about the way she moves. She mentioned to the girl who thought she was a professional that she keeps getting injured. No doubt! It sort of distresses me that the teacher doesn't work with her on this issue a little more actively.
In fact, in retrospect, I don't think the teacher did a ton of teaching. She seemed like a great choreographer and her combinations were fun, dancy, way more enjoyable than Date #1. On the other hand, Monday's teacher really emphasized technique and was not shy to pinpoint my weaknesses and tell me what I was doing wrong right off the bat. Her combinations were not as much fun, but it's true that after class she said I should take her colleague's Saturday morning class too, "He teaches like a choreographer and I choreograph like a teacher," she explained. Well, Date #2 was all choreographer, I guess.
Conclusion: I think I'll go back to both studios for balance. I need Monday Night's discipline but I don't think I can resist going back to Wednesday, if only to gape at Miss Noodle and enjoy the live accompanist on Saturdays. Or, should I try a third blind date. I bought a bike so I can get around town (no car while I'm here) so I could possibly make my way out to what I'm calling the Important Local Ballet Company School this weekend. Hmm.
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