Technique

Ballet gospel.

The intersection of my life is hitting a ballet high point.

3600 Hours - the book is still happening each day, but I find myself wanting to share ballet. My company is undertaking Coppelia for our summer show. I will play Swanhilda, the lead ballerina. The experience is completely consuming and incredibly expansive. Ballet is perhaps the greatest gift of my life — writing about it can’t be avoided right now. I hope you enjoy.

I love the feeling of my hips settling into fifth position. People think it’s about the feet, ballerinas know it happens in the hips. I stand at the barre, my left hand rests on the cold metal, it drapes down from my shoulder, an elegant angle. I position my left side first then right toes meet left heel and pressing myself into and pulling away from my right heel lengthens to meet my left toes. I am a rod of energy pulsing both down deeply into the earth and radiating through the ceiling. Head over right shoulder, right arm swung low. I am about to show you exactly who I am.

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Class is an eternal battle of contradictions. Relax the ribs while flexing the back. Pull the blades wide and down to extend the chest. Pull the stomach muscles up but keep the ribs in. Shoulders down, hips up. Squeeze your buns, relax your quads. Now move. Arms are held by the back and led with the elbow. Movement begins in the core and extends through the port des bra (arms), the head and fingers last to arrive. This is how we create the illusion of softness. All while the hips push forward through the backs of the legs moving the heel then the toes forward in a turned out position. Toes push off the floor and extend pointed. The leg lifts from the underside to the desired height.

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It could be that I am confident, or it could just be I have been trained to stand this way, my head held high, shoulders wide. Like a good soldier at attention it could just be I know what is correct.

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We push down to go up. We lengthen up to land softly. We roll through a million tiny places. We roll towels with our toes teaching them to spread wide against the floor. We stretch them against rubber so they can push, leaving us standing on our toes. I wonder what the normal woman thinks of her wrists. Mine are the last thing before my fingers that will either kill the line or make it exquisite. It is important they rest in perfect curvature from elbow to my first knuckle.

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What will you think when you see me? Will you see fair training? An unpointed foot? Potential? Insecurity? Nervous? Fear? Will you judge me to be good enough? My body good enough?

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There is a point for the shoulder to rest where it can sink both down and roll forward in a perfect arch. It may look straight, but it is always round. My body may look straight but it is always round, bending, weaving mysteriously from its center, but it is my head that plagues me of late. It never wants to leave center, it is so heavy. If I can find the point at the base that pulls from the top of my head and place it over the supporting side while moving through space I will have perfect balance. You see, technique is not just functional, it is also exactly beautiful.

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And am I, beautiful? Will you see beauty and be moved when you see me? Perfection, surely not. That is reserved for someone taller, thinner, more lithe. I am only me, a little too short, a little too round, a little too shy.

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We train for years to forget all this. To forget the fear, the why, the how and erase ourselves in doing. We move from muscle restriction to effortless wonder. The music, our constant companion. We have shaped our bodies to know so we can say what we came to say. What is it between counts one and eight that keeps me high above but still within myself? My body knows and sets me free to ride this ride. I hardly know what’s happening even while loving it.

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I am scared you’ll see all the parts I do not accept in me, but I am learning this too has order. Instead of hips, or center, or arms it is in joy, acceptance, imperfection. It is alive.

All images courtesy of Sierra Nevada Ballet from Ananda Bena-Weber’s Dracula 2024.

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