The dread summer doldrums of adult ballet have arrived. Summer intensives are over (more on that, shortly); summer session at our local ballet school has ended; next week the kids get a local intensive, but there's nothing for adults. What's a grownup bunhead to do?
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| Basement ballet, December, 2020 |
Thanks to the pandemic (did we ever imagine that would be a thing we could say, even sardonically, which, if you can't tell, is how it is intended here?), there are now a wealth of online options, from expensive live one-on-one coaching sessions to free videos where you can plié to your heart's content along with dancers from the Paris Opera Ballet led by Andre Klemm on the Pont des Arts in Paris. So, there’s the whole phenomenon of rec room or basement or kitchen counter barre. Which is… okay, I guess.
Earlier this summer, in the short spell between spring and summer sessions, I solved the problem for my peers (but not really for myself), by volunteering to lead some informal classes twice a week. It was fun, but kind of exhausting, despite that I did not really get to dance all that much myself. Probably, it was good practice for this fall, when I’ll be teaching adult beginners regularly for the first time. I’m excited, and not a little nervous, to take this on. My only “training” as a ballet teacher is the thousands of hours I’ve spent in class as a student, a very small amount of substitute teaching, some reading, and of course my background as a very different kind of teacher (e.g. college professor). I like that teaching makes me think about the movement more analytically, and it really challenges my brain to come up with intentional kinds of barre work that prepares people for specific exercises in center. Suffice to say, I have a lot to learn, and a lot of imposter syndrome (although, is it a “syndrome” when you really are, for all intents and purpose, an imposter) to get over.
I am taking inspiration from Julie Gill, however; she is sort of a guru of adult ballet, a real advocate for having an adult-specific approach that helps dancers progress through skills in a similar fashion to the way kids are taught, but with age-appropriate adaptations and acknowledgement of the reality of adult lives (e.g., we don’t operate on a “semester” cycle unless, that is, we are teachers or academics ourselves). I like her essay/podcast “Adult ballet training, philosophy, & inspiration” which is part of her “Facets of Ballet Series” which anyone who enjoys the brainy side of ballet (that is, the thinking about how it all works rather than just going with the flow of it, which is also cool) will find a rewarding listen.
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| Everybody loves floor barre! |
I am also taking a page out of the book of a teacher I took class with at Joy of Motion in Washington DC about a million years ago (okay, ten). She was a former Graham dancer, but she was teaching ballet. I should add that she was over eighty years old. The first thing she had us all do (and this was an advanced/intermediate class) was lie down on our backs on the floor and “find” our bodies, moving through pliés and tendus front and side, so we could “house” our center in our pelvis (her words). It really is remarkable how something like that gives one a kind of physical sensation that can serve as a reference point later, when you’re standing at the barre or in center. If, that is, you remember to think about it. So I’m going to incorporate some floorwork into every class.
Finally, I’m of course inspired by all the wonderful teachers that I’ve been so fortunate to take classes from over the years. Aside from the stalwart ballet heroes at Cache Valley School of Ballet (Karyn! Vivian! Jaimie! Pam!) I’ve had some really transformative encounters elsewhere.
Aaron Jackson at Washington Ballet made a huge impression on me – he was not afraid to push mature adult students to attain the kind of rigor that is ordinarily only expected of pre-professional students. “No, that’s not right. Try again,” was his motto, it seemed, and it worked – I made progress in my technique there, particularly in petite allegro, that I had not imagined possible. His classes were fun, too, the choreography hard enough to make my brain work, but not so hard as to completely defeat the mind-body connection.
Another teacher I constantly return to when I can is Kat Wildish in New York City. She is a huge advocate of giving adult dancers the chance to develop and train seriously, and she also creates performance opportunities that sound amazing. As a drop-in student, I’ve never had the chance to do the shows, but I’ve learned a couple really useful things, including my favorite barre stretch, which is totally crazy, and so satisfying (it cannot be described, only demonstrated).
In Seattle, I always try to drop in for a class with Annie deVuono at ExitSpace Dance. She brings this fun, slightly salty energy to class, and her choreography really compels one to focus on dance quality. The enchainements are interesting, but not weird, so you can really double down on the expressive elements. She makes great use of a somewhat limited space, and her classes are small, so you get a ton of personal attention. She has a way of giving corrections that make you feel like a “real” ballerina.
Honestly, it’s very seldom that I take an adult class that totally leaves me frustrated and sad; occasionally, when I’ve taken at big company studios, where there are thirty or forty people in an open class and the pre-professionals and company dancers get all the attention, I feel sort of marginal and uninspired, but that’s kind of to be expected, I think, as a class cannot be all things to all people.
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| With the incomparable Allison (and baby Tilton #2) |
Which brings me back around to summer intensives. This year, once again, I went to SLC for ArtEmotion, Allison DeBona and Rex Tilton's super awesome summer intensive for real grownups, and once again, it was transformational. I’m not saying I made huge advances in my ballet technique; I’m getting kind of old for that. Rather, I felt like I learned a lot about my body, about dance, and about how to work with what I’ve got. One highlight was the amazing series of pointe classes with Liz Wheldon, who is literally the kindest ballet teacher I’ve ever had, who just infuses the room with love and light and makes you think you’re nailing it even if you are a fifty-something-year-old woman clonking around in pointe shoes.
It was also a huge privilege to be in the group that Rex Tilton set choreography on – we were definitely a challenging bunch, and the piece was way more lovely and sophisticated than you would think that a bunch of adult intermediate-to-advanced types could pull off, but it came together and, I’m told, looked pretty amazing (the videos haven’t been sent to us yet, so I’ll have to wait for confirmation on that). For me, the choreographic piece is always the greatest challenge both mentally and physically. It’s just outside the norm of what I do with dance, most of the time.
Finally, I have to mention the last ballet class of the whole week, which we took with Ron Tilton. He had this little tip for turning that has literally changed everything for me. It has to do with using your off-side arm to whip across your body, farther than you think you need to, in order to actually just get your shoulders square. Again, it’s easier to demonstrate than to describe, but it seriously makes the rotations just come so much more smoothly.
So, as I drift in the dance doldrums, I am directing my thoughts towards three goals for the coming year:
- Dance mindfully, applying the things I’ve learned and hopefully growing them.
- Teach holistically, taking into account the realness of adult ballet
- Embrace risk in both teaching and dancing – try new things, get down on the floor and up in the air, and learn some really challenging choreography
Alright, cue up that basement ballet video, I’m ready to start!
