Purely Research Purposes: The Blogger Visits the Sunshine Coast

A few months ago it occurred to me that it’s all well and good running a website for a much missed teacher, but when her new classes are on the other side of the world, it makes it rather tricky to fully appreciate what’s happening.

The solution was clear: I needed to visit the Adult Dance Circle. I needed to take one for the team, take time away from my beloved job (and favourite way to spend my time) and travel 16,233 kilometres to become more knowledgeable.

The journey to the Sunshine Coast was purely for research purposes. This was not a frivolous trip at all.

No, really, it wasn’t.

Although I’ve been at this ‘prancing lark’ for a few years now, I still find myself a little anxious before a new class. Ordinarily there’s the worry of being unable to keep up with a new teacher’s style, though this was thankfully not the case here, but there’s also the concern of who else will be in the class. It is not unusual, in some of the large schools, for there to be a fairly steady turnover of students. You might see one or two people fairly regularly, but otherwise new faces drift in, then drift away and no one smiles or talks because we’re all strangers to each other. So when trying a new class, one sort of gets into the habit of sloping in, head down, not looking at anyone else and hoping no one notices the newbie. One wants to blend in, perhaps to the wall paper, but at the very least as ‘just part of the crowd’.

And so, having been dropped off at the studio in Maroochydore, I sloped in as discreetly as I could, given I was dragging a suitcase about three quarters the size of me. I expected to be cheerfully ignored, something I find perfectly normal now, but as I rooted through my bag searching for my smelly shoes I found myself being greeted by two ladies and, rather than feel like an interloper, I felt welcome and like I belonged there.

But of course this happened—it’s a Lyn class.

One of the many things Lyn’s old (abandoned) students in Scotland miss is the atmosphere in her classes. Several of us have sat around and lamented that in no other class have any of us felt so relaxed and so unembarrassed to try new steps. Lyn has a knack for making everyone feel welcome and if someone does something ghastly, it’s usually greeted with an “Oh dear … we’ll keep working on that”, which usually makes us all laugh.

I recall the first of Lyn’s classes that I went to. At the time it required a 20 minute train ride and then a 20 minute walk up the road to get to the studio.

“I’ll just go along to one class,” I told myself. “But this is too much of a faff for it to be a long-term thing.”

I was welcomed to the class first by Lyn and then by one or two of her regular students, asking where I was from and how long I’d been taking classes. Then the work began. There is a wry smile on my face as I remember standing at the back during the centre work, my hands on my hips staring with laser-like intensity as one of the ladies performed a pas de bourrée–glissade–jeté in quick succession and all I could think was “Pas de what?”

It was fast.

I felt like I had jumped, with no grace whatsoever, into the deep end. Panic set in and I wondered if I would ever get to grips with these steps. (There may be a reader or two out there nodding and smiling at this, having felt something similar.) But afterwards, whilst waiting for my return train, and after my head had stopped spinning, I realised that, although it was difficult, I had enjoyed the challenge.

Fast forward a few years to Maroochydore and I experienced that familiar feeling of “Whoa, what’s that step?” when standing in the centre and doing a petit allegro. (There is a video of that very exercise on the ADC Facebook page, although there it’s beautifully performed: https://www.facebook.com/adultdancecirclesc/.) But, unsurprisingly, when I glanced around and grimaced at another dancer, I received a sympathetic smile in return and, again, felt like I belonged. Such is the nature of the classes Lyn brings together. We are all challenged, we all try, we often laugh, and we all feel like we belong.

Thank you to all the Tuesday ladies who made me feel so welcome and who smiled at my grimaces. It really was lovely to take part in one of the classes and meet some of the students who have been keeping Lyn on her toes.

Thank you also to the pointe ladies who tactfully ignored me as I cowered in the corner and treated the barre so terribly, putting most of my weight on it whilst attempting to get onto my toes. (That barre will never be the same again!) It had been a while since my last serious pointe lesson. My toes reminded me of this fact for a couple of days afterwards.

I hobbled from the class and was treated to a tour of the area and a proper catch up with Lyn, hearing about all the classes she’d been taking, her adjudications and the planned RAD Silver Swans qualification. I was also able to meet ADC’s whizz bookkeeper Sarah and realised just how much she does behind the scenes.

Not a bad place to live, really.

RAD Silver Swans qualified.

It was later that I realised I had not taken any “Ballet on the Sunshine Coast” pictures to accompany the blog. I attempted to make up for this later, but the steely-eyed amongst you will spot that one of them shows clearly that said photos were taken in Cairns. I hang my head in shame, acknowledge that that’s not the Sunshine Coast and beg forgiveness. The inspiration did not hit until I had departed for northern territory and I hope you will squint, turn your head sideways and just pretend it is the Sunshine Coast.

Dancing on Not the Sunshine Coast.

Now back in not-actually-always-raining Scotland, I can report back to friends and past students of Lyn’s: the Adult Dance Circle is dancing beautifully, and the Sunshine Coast is a wonderful place to be. We still miss Lyn, but perhaps more Scottish students might feel inclined to make a similar journey.

All purely for research purposes, of course.