Ballet IS for Everyone
It’s not very often that sensible words come out of my mouth at the opportune moment. These are moments to be relished, noted down in the annals of history and similar over-dramatic methods of recognition.
But a few weeks ago, whilst sitting on a tour bus in Krakow, I found myself saying these sensible words to a stranger.
(Rynek Główny in Krakow)
As is often the way, during a conversation I had mentioned something about taking ballet classes.
“I wanted to be a ballet dancer,” she said, whilst her husband chuckled from the seat in front. “It turned out that I had everything wrong—I was too tall, too big and worst of all, I am so uncoordinated.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I replied, “I walk into door frames in everyday life [I really do], but in the dance studio I am coordinated. Ballet has taught me coordination. I think ballet is for everyone.”
I think ballet is for everyone.
On further reflection, I am relieved that I said at least one thing that was mildly intelligent, but I wish I had said so much more.
So for anyone who has said or thought something similar, here is my full response.
“I’m too tall for ballet”
I am 5 foot 8 (when I’m standing up straight and not in my usual Quasimodo mode). The two most inspiring teachers I’ve had are both taller than me and, prior to teaching, both have had successful professional careers.
When people talk about the ideal height for ballet dancers, it is based on the classical ideas of yester-year. Yes, when someone has aspirations to dance professionally with a classical company, being smaller has its advantages, such as in partnering. But today companies across the globe are breaking barriers and questioning these norms.
Alonzo King LINES in San Francisco is an example of a company looking past these often ridiculous norms, hiring absolutely stunning dancers of differing heights, often over the 5”8 mark.
I would also like to add LINES and other companies such as Alvin Ailey and Ballet Black are also barrier-breaking companies employing dancers of different ethnicities. This is an important topic and worthy of screeds and screeds of blog posts—too important to neglect to mention, too important for this very casual post.
“I’m too big for ballet”
In 2014, former Royal Ballet dancer Wayne Sleep was behind the production of a television series called “Big Ballet”. It had its controversies, of course, with uncomfortable words like ‘fat’ and ‘body fascism’ floating about online, but what Sleep and his colleagues were attempting to do was show that a person’s size does not matter when it comes to the quality of movement and the ability to move to music.
(A promotional photo of Channel 4’s “Big Ballet”)
After the “Big Ballet” production, Deborah Bull, also a former dancer from the Royal Ballet, commented that there is a difference between being lean from ballet and being fashionably lean.
“The process of learning to be a ballet dancer, which takes at least 10 years, involves eight hours of exercise a day. We don’t have this conversation about marathon runners. We totally understand that the process of training creates a type of physique. So why are we having [this conversation] about ballet dancers?” (The Independent, 26 January 2014, “Channel 4's new 'Big Ballet': Defying ballet’s body politics”)
This is most certainly further fuel to the debate, and also another topic that deserves pages of reflection, because today, in life in general, we are starting to question this ‘norm’ and how, in particular, the ideal feminine shape has become leaner and leaner over the years.
Where did this ideal come from?
And why should we accept it?
And why should anyone of any size feel ashamed of dancing—being active and doing something they love?
But, returning to the topic—considering ballet or dance as an adult when a professional career is not a concern—I feel compelled to ask again, does one’s size matter when it comes to the quality of movement? As a young dancer, Wayne Sleep himself faced down his own share of prejudice being 5”2 and not the ‘ideal’ height for a male dancer. Yet he proved any naysayers wrong with a successful professional career, and setting a world record in the process (for an entrechat-douze!).
The final performance of the “Big Ballet” participants was watched by ballet professionals from across the UK and the final verdict was mixed, but The Independent critic noted that the dancers had “gained from the experience, reconnecting with their bodies, their love of music and movement, and the belief that big can be beautiful”.
“I’m not coordinated enough for ballet”
Ah, but ballet teaches you coordination!
Think about “epaulement”. Epaulement translates as ‘shouldering’ and, in the ballet world, means the placement of the head and shoulders to begin to show artistry when placing the arms and legs. Basically, it means making a simple, foundation position look interesting.
Let’s look at croisé devant specifically.
At the start of one’s ballet training, one learns that if the right leg is extended in tendu in front of the body (tendu devant) then it’s the left arm that is lifted in fifth. The opposite arm to leg.
For the first few classes one has to remind oneself of this quite a lot until, all of sudden, it’s second nature. Then, just as one gets to grips with that, the teacher says "Turn your head thus and open your shoulders like so". And just with these small adjustments this once mundane, not particularly interesting pose becomes alive, exciting and full of potential.
Step by step, we have gone from learning the five basic positions of the feet, then of the arms, then that finishing touch, the epaulement of the head and shoulders.
Week by week, we are training each part of the body to move in coordination with the others.
One last intelligent thing
The final thing I said to this stranger on the bus was, “It’s never too late, if you still want to try.”
It’s a subject I’ve touched on many a time, but it truly is never too late to start. Queensland Ballet might not come knocking, but for all the good ballet does, and for all your heart desires it, I encourage you to ignore all the tired old excuses.