Don’t ask me how this happened, but at some point, it became a status symbol in the classical ballet world for teachers to be sarcastic, biting, degrading, and insulting to students, thinking that they are motivating them to work harder. People who are relatively new to the dance world believe that classical ballet is all about the harsh criticism and shaming the dancer; it’s tradition, isn’t it?

Ballet is an art form based on love of movement, nuances of expression, and a very clean, articulate way of speaking with the body. Screaming and making sarcastic remarks actually can destroy any progress or inspiration, as well as incur discouragement and feelings of intimidation. As a matter of fact, harsh treatment has no benefits at all. People like to say that ballet requires a tough skin, and the nature of the business proves this is true. However, the tough skin should be developed for perseverance and tenacity when mastering difficult technique, going through auditions, and accepting rejections, NOT for fielding character attacks and brutal, cruel predictions about a dancer’s future. To me, reverse psychology is just an excuse for a teacher to vent frustration towards a student. I understand when there are students who don’t want to exert much effort, or whose parents are forcing them to take classes when they would clearly rather be somewhere else. That certainly is a frustrating scenario, and sometimes it’s just best to allow them to work at their own pace. However, when a student clearly loves to be at class but is misunderstanding a concept, or when there are physical limitations that make perfect technique unfeasible, it’s never appropriate to shame a dancer. Most ballet studios in this country do not limit their enrollment to students who are prescreened with perfect facility since birth and have the highest potential. I have been surprised so many times by who ends up sticking with it and who doesn’t that I’m NOT surprised by anything anymore. Plus, everyone has the right to study what interests them, no matter what the future looks like. I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate right now about the life benefits of studying dance – that’s a whole book in itself. My point is, no matter who is taking class or for whatever reason, they deserve the teacher’s respect AND patience. They’re paying the same amount of money (maybe more if they don’t get a merit scholarship) and making the same time sacrifices as those students who seem destined for fame in the dance world. No teacher should ever hide behind the arrogance and pretentiousness of “I’ve been a professional dancer for many years, so I know what I’m talking about” mentality. As much as I adore dance and am totally immersed in this arts world, we all must remember: It’s just ballet. It’s an activity that, for most people, is dispensable in a family’s set of priorities of what they need to survive.

Letting students see the teachers’ love of whatever they’re teaching creates a very productive atmosphere in the studio. Students of all ages respond well when the teacher shows that he loves to be there, or that she appreciates every student who walks in the door. Students thrive on achievement and affirmation. Expressing anger and insults will eventually result in empty studios.

Ultimately, in these times and our culture, the art may be life-giving to the society, but the instructors need to be life-giving to the artist. Being arrogant, sarcastic, and hurling cruel comments should never be confused with being strict and demanding. The goal is to create future dancers, not demoralized and beaten down adults.

Dance on.

I love watching the Academy Awards. I really don’t care who wins, because I haven’t seen most of the movies anyway, but I enjoy seeing who wins the Oscar.

I also like watching the red-carpet pre-show. I think the question, “Who are you wearing?” is intriguing. The actors get to mention the dress designer’s name, and then they launch into the style and jewelry that makes the outfit. Then the interviewer goes on about how gorgeous the actresses and handsome the actors look in someone else’s design…on the outside. The outside is the part that belongs to someone else and disappears when the party’s over. The part of the person that is actually the true identity is often hidden away. I guess actors do have to be good at keeping their insides hidden from the public, otherwise they wouldn’t be very good at their job. 

I wouldn’t want to be known for someone I am pretending to be. Make-up and wigs may fool the public on the big screen, but in real life, each of has to live with who we truly are. We can only fake it for so long, but our true character will always be revealed.

Being genuine and honest is crucial for a dancer. We can’t use words, and the costumes must be minimal enough to allow freedom of movement, yet distinct enough to define the character or style of the choreography. All that’s left to communicate with is the heart and personality. That’s why it’s fascinating to see different dancers perform the same role.

Too often, when learning a solo, younger dancers try to imitate other dancers, rather than own and interpret the part themselves. Intimidation and lack of confidence can squelch an amazing personality and a creative talent that the audience won’t see if the dancer is too afraid to show who he or she really is. Fear of criticism is real, but when we try to be someone else, it won’t come across the footlights as well as sincerity anyway.

It’s always better to allow your heart to be revealed. Then everyone can see the real beauty and character you have received as a gift from the real Designer, and you can use that gift for others. You don’t have to hide behind someone else’s creation. 

There’s a reason the director gave YOU the solo in the first place. Therefore, if anyone asks you, “Who are you wearing?” you can say, “Me!” Everyone will be thrilled to know the real you.

Dance on.

This is the time of year when many ballet students are auditioning for large summer dance programs, especially if the schools are connected to large ballet companies. Some of the dancers are feeling the pressure of “What if I don’t get in?”

There are other dancers that feel a different pressure, but they’re pretty silent about it. Some dancers just don’t want life in a huge ballet company. Many prefer a smaller company that gives them more freedom to explore other talents. Although they love to dance and are passionate about it, the competition, pressure, and complexities of the all-encompassing, larger lifestyle suck the joy out of them. Some dancers thrive on the bigger lifestyle, others are the opposite. Comments that question a dancer’s dedication and passion are circulated if they admit that they don’t want to go to a huge, famous school.

When I was a student and then later as a professional (many years ago!) small ballet companies were looked upon as insignificant or a “starter” company. People would say to impressive dancers who were in small companies, “Wow, you’re so good; you should go to New York, or San Francisco, or a big company in a huge city!”

Well, New York and San Francisco have plenty of dancers. If your dream is strictly to be in a big company in a big city, then go for it. However, nowadays, being in a big company is not the only “big-time” success in the dance world.

You have to ask yourself, do you want to be famous, or do you want to dance, no matter what? There’s nothing wrong with being famous in a large company and influencing many people at once. However, being famous and insanely busy may not be for you, even if dancing IS. With opportunities so available now, gorgeous dancers are making smaller companies tiny diamonds of the highest quality that bring power and influence everywhere they shine. Small companies offer many opportunities to do roles that a dancer may not get to do for years in a large company, if at all.  Also, the camaraderie in a small company is different and can be closer than in a large company where the dancer turnover runs at a faster pace. The touring schedule of a large company can be exciting for many dancers, but grueling and tedious for others. The scheduling and budget for a small company is more limited, yet that’s what allows dancers to pursue other interests at the same time as their dancing. 

All logistics aside, the artistic quality and technique in a small company can be as beautiful, breathtaking, meaningful, powerful, and fulfilling as  in a big company.

It’s not all or nothing; the field is WIDE open to 

Dance on.

After so many years of teaching dance, it’s impossible for a teacher to not experience dancers’ frustrations regarding their progress, or not getting the roles they want, or not moving up to higher levels. I’ve also experienced the teachers’ challenges of balancing the dancers’ need to grow with pushing them too far and causing discouragement.

However, there’s also another issue; it’s a good problem, but it’s still a problem. What do you do when there’s a wave of beautiful dancers who are coming into their own, yet the strong, very skilled dancers who have been doing lead roles are also continuing to improve? What do you do when these wonderful artists are no longer the only choices for the larger roles? No one wants to see a ballet company with only one fabulous dancer, even when it makes the director’s life easy for casting choices. So, what DO you do when you have many dancers who are beautiful, capable, expressive artists, each with their individual strengths, each with aspirations of moving up, but there are a limited number of leading roles and solos? I know I want to use the right dancers for the right roles, but all the dancers are versatile, and they would all bring their unique interpretation as well as sparkling technique.

Large ballet companies have long performing seasons with many performances on the schedule; many dancers can be featured often in one season. However, smaller companies have a more limited performing schedule and less opportunities in any one season for each artist to take the lead. So what does a director do?

I’m not sure. I’ve never had this problem before, but I am thrilled to see such talent and artistry blossoming before my eyes. It’s like watching all the stars come out at the same time on a clear night. Where do you look first?

One thing I AM sure of: Unless the director is honest and up front, rumors begin immediately as to why “so-and-so” got the role that someone else did for years, or “certainly someone is angry and threatening to leave,” because he or she didn’t get the lead. I don’t even have to list them; I’m sure you’ve heard them all, and rarely are they true. The actual truth is, everyone wants to be appreciated, validated, and USED when they deserve it. No one wants to feel they’ve been overlooked or not even considered in a casting decision. People need to know that they have demonstrated improvement and that they’re being seen for what they are now, not what they used to be.

The word “company” means that there is a camaraderie and a like-mindedness among a group of people. With dancers who link arms during the difficult times as well as the glorious ones, a company is more of a family. They work and sweat together, struggle together, triumph together, and become like war buddies with an everlasting emotional bond. It only makes sense that they be treated with the same honesty and compassion as a loving family. And when you love someone as family, you must trust their emotions, and weather all of them together.

So, back to dance – honesty is necessary among the ranks to instill trust; trust is the foundation of any relationship, whether family, friends, or work. To me, they are one and the same. There are still private issues which don’t need to be broadcasted to everyone who is not involved, and timing is always important. However, in a company where everyone is fighting the good fight together, it’s just as important that a relationship develops within. We need to let our fellow soldiers in on the battle plan and desired strategy. That way, even when the director has to make a decision that’s unpopular, the trust and faithfulness win out, and we can all continue to 

Dance on

Stamina is a tricky thing. Sometimes it can be controlled and maintained through mind games. Motivation can also be elusive; it can be fickle, change courses, or you can feel that it’s gone forever, even when it’s still there, hiding deep inside. Sometimes, whatever sources of inspiration or muses we might depend on seem to disappear now and then through circumstances, or boredom, stress, or fear.

Recently, I experienced a life changing situation. My husband passed away, leaving me numb, devastated, feeling lost, disconnected to who I am, and completely alone. It was a bit unexpected, yet it wasn’t. At first, I mechanically finished out the dance season with the blessing of muscle memory and habit. When the comfort of familiarity began to wane, I became emphatic and deliberate about pushing through and being “brave.” However, I saw a movie recently about an artist whose husband had recently died, and in one scene, she finally is forced to admit, “It’s exhausting being brave.”

It IS exhausting. It’s also ironic — artists spend their lives exposing their hearts and deepest thoughts, yet they work even harder to cover up their own vulnerability.

 My husband had been a dancer/choreographer, and without realizing it, we were inspired and motivated by each other. We tried to create as individually as our personalities would allow, but I guess you could say that we had become each other’s muse.

Do we really need a muse? Do we require an outside source to express the inside? Maybe we’ve just been using that muse to give us permission to explore and expose our hearts. The creativity is already there. No one else really knows the crevices and hiding places in our hearts, except for God, so why trust someone else to give us the freedom to be honest and raw with what we already know? Even the people closest to us don’t know our every nuance of thought and emotion, because, sometimes even we don’t know until the creative process begins.

All artists have the ability to be honest and raw, but not all have the courage. We want to create beauty, but we sometimes are afraid to create the honest ugliness. I don’t mean the kind that is deliberately offensive; I mean the kind that expresses the reality of what we want to say. Beauty always brings accolades. But even the expression of difficult emotions can be beautiful when done with sincerity and honesty. The problem is, sometimes those difficult expressions can be met with controversy, or worse, dismissed.

I saw a gorgeous sculpture by a Norwegian artist named Gustav Vigelund. It’s part of a huge sculpture park, and every sculpture is a poignant depiction of people in every stage of life, from infancy to old age. This particular sculpture was of a girl falling headlong out of a tree with a grimace of abject fear on her face. It was called ‘Falling into Womanhood,” and it shows the anguish and fear so many people feel about growing up and facing the unknown. Her face actually is chilling, but the piece of art is eerily beautiful. Some of the sculptures bring smiles and fun reflections that everyone can personally relate to. Others are hard to look at, because we don’t want to personally relate, but we know one day we will. Those are the ones I remember the most. Those are the ones that reveal a fear or inner struggle, and seeing them created for the public makes me feel less alone, less afraid to share my own heart.

I look at my husband’s pictures all the time. To me, they are beautiful, though hard to look at right now. He is in my heart, which gives me the desire to create, and his memory motivates me to continue. However, I know that my real inspiration and ideas are given to me by God, along with the ability to put them in motion.

Trust your heart, your creativity, your talent, and your feelings. We don’t need an outside muse. We need to give ourselves permission to create what WE hear, see, and feel, and not what we think others want to hear and see.

Dance on.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton