Category Archives: balllet

Oh, G-d, Y’all.  

In which Ballet Theater of Indiana identifies “The Nine Insufferable People You Meet Auditioning.”

Got to “the intimidation stretcher” and just about died. Yup, that’s me (though it’s usually unintentional, like, “Welp, not sure what to do with myself right now,def don’t want to make eye contact with with strangers, soooooooo… *attaches leg to head*”).

Sorry about that.

I should get back to homemakering now.

Balances 

Tried Aerial A’s exercise with my worst balance, coupé (avant), today. 

Holy Entrechats, Bournonville-man! It works! 

The exercise in question(1), by the way, is a painfully slow piqué into whatever balance.

So, with Turnout Mode Engaged:

  • point (with all your heart, all your mind, and all your soul) through the entire leg that’s going to be the supporting leg
  • keep the hip socket engaged 
  • soft demi-plié the other leg
  • keep the hip socket engaged 
  • push (don’t spring!) onto the demi-point of the supporting leg 
  • KEEP THE HIP SOCKET ENGAGED(2)!!! 
  • slowly lift-rotate the working leg into place 

This gives you time to think about what your back, hips, etc are doing. 

I’ve realized the my back is totally my nemesis in coupé—in retiré, I automatically engage the bejeezus out of my core (because that is part of the recipe for a high retiré), but in coupé I don’t, and then my tendency to throw my shoulders and head back just screws the whole thing right up. 

The various  arabesques and attitude arrière are easier because they’re counter-balances, which means you can fake ’em’ til you make ’em, to an extent. 

Meanwhile, attitude avant and simple balance à la seconde are hard enough that I have to think about them (and both require intense core engagement). Likewise, balances in extension (usually via développé) in the various directions engage the core automagically for me. 

Hence, coupé balance is hard because it’s easy. 

Ah, yes. That’s right. This is ballet, the art of counter-intuition, isn’t it?


  1. I’ll see if I can get Aerial A to collaborate on a video for this!
  2. If you’re like me and you like to show off your flexibility and hyperextensions and beautiful lines and you have intermittent issues with your supporting leg feeling squidgy at the top, you might be failing to extend from the hip socket, and instead making your whole pelvis go all cattywampus and sideways ‘n’ shizzle. See below. 

This visualization works well for me. Also … My handwriting. So very terrible. Sorry.

Ballet Goals for 2017

We’re on break for the next couple of weeks, so this seems like a good time to sit down and set some ballet goals for next year.

I think I set some last year, but I’m not sure what they were (because I’m too lazy to look them up right now). Anyway, I may not have included all of these on whatever list I made, but I know these were all things I hoped to achieve in 2016:

  • Reliable double turns. Check.
  • Suck less at port de bras. Hella check. I realize now that this is a really, really vague, but still. The nice part about being actually terrible at something is that you can improve really fast if you put in the work.
  • Suck less at petit allegro. Kinda check? This one was too vague as well. I am less bad at petit allegro than I used to be, but it is not my forté. Not at all. Got beats, though, and at least least it’s usually just bad petit allegro these days and not the desperate flailings of a a baby giraffe on rollerskates. 
  • Barrel turns. Oddly enough, I did manage to learn these. I wouldn’t call them reliable—they’re still squarely in the “can do it if I don’t try to think about it” department. 
  • Tombé-coupé-jeté. See “barrel turns.”
  • Saut de basque. Check. Like a boss, mofos. I have one heck of a nice saut de basque. 
  • Ditto pas de chat Italien. I didn’t know this was a goal until someone asked me if I could do it. Then it was a goal for the 5 minutes it took me to remember how.
  • Ditto also renversé. I don’t know why it’s so hard to “get,” but once you really have it, you want to put it in everything. It’s like saffron or fleur du sel. 

So my first goal for 2017 is to make my goals for next year less vague (pretty sure that’s basically like wishing for more wishes).

So here we go.

Steps & Stuff

  • Double tours.
  • Double cabrioles avant and arrière (edit: see footnote 1)
  • Reliable triple turns.
  • Unreliable quarduples.
  • Reliable turns à la seconde.
  • Entrechats six et plus. This should be doable; my quatre is reliable.
  • Brisée—this needs to be reliable. Right now, it’s …. Yeah. Let’s not talk about that.
  • Maybe revoltade? I feel like fewer of my goals should be grand allegro pyrotechnics, since that’s basically playing to my strengths. 
  • Solve the infuriating problem of being good at circular/grand port de bras without the barre and less good with.
  • Overcome my turns-at-the-barre phobia. Seriously.
  • Balances. All of them. Today in Sunday class I slow-piquéd into a first arabesque, slowly brought my working leg up above 90, and just hung out there until my head pretty much exploded with amazement thanks to a very simple exercise that Aerial A gave us. Then I failli-ed out like it was no big deal. 
  • Temp de puisse. Stop turning it into a funky Sissone.
  • Sissones. Review them. ALL OF THEM. 

Specifically for BW:

  • Directional stuff. BW is basically the reason I can now reliably describe whether something is croisé or effacé without having to freaking well get up offa that thing and dance til ya feel better  out of my seat, draw my imaginary box, and then execute the movement in question. 
  • Strengthen them turnouts.
  • Use that crazy-high passé/retiré without having to think about it.
  • Dat sus-sous, though. I feel feel that BW will be happy with me when he never, ever has to remind me to tighten my sus-sous (for the record, he’s the one who helped me solve my sus-sous versus knees problem, so I’m glad he calls me out on it).
  • Effing devil turns.  Chainês. Be good at them, because I want BW to be proud of me, and whenever I do chainês he looks vaguely horrified. I think this is exacerbated by the fact fact that we usually precede them with My Favorite Thing, piqué turns, at which I rock 

Variations 

  • Revisit Albrecht’s variation. Work out the kinks. Specifically: connect the steps and passes better; get the arms sequenced so I don’t do stupid flappy hands after jumps.
  • Revisit the first act Peasant Pas from Giselle. See above. No flappy hands and no half-assing the balances. 
  • Learn at least 2 more solo or duo variations. This should be no problem. I should look at the repertoire and see what’s what. Probably not Le Corsaire, though miracles do happen. I could probably learn the trepak from one Nutcracker or another. Maybe something from Swan Lake? Or from La Dame aux Camélias.
  • Learn at least one pas de deux. This will probably depend on whether we get rep class and partnering class to happen; otherwise it’s just going to be a thing that maybe happens at summer intensive, I guess?

Choreography

  • Finish and stage “Work Song.” I should should be able to fully check this one off in March!
  • Finish at least the first act of Simon Crane. Possibly look into setting and staging a few pieces.
  • Finish Peace, set it, and perform it.

And, of course, I will endeavor to actually be good at port de bras and épaulement, in accordance with the scriptures, and to focus on making my petit allegro light, precise, and clean, instead of always approaching it as “grand allegro, but faster and with a million fussy steps.” (Read: tone down the elevation and the travel.)

That might prevent Eric Bruhn, Bournonville, and Vaganova visiting me from beyond the grave to stare at me in silent disappointment. Not that this has happened, of course, but I feel that it’s what should happen to bad little boys who don’t work on their petit allegro.

Lastly, I will attempt to remember that attacking turns does not mean we’re trying to kill them. Or, rather, to remember that when it counts, and not after class or in bed at 11 PM.

Um, that’s probably enough for one year.


  1. Turns out I can do double cabrioles arrière using the “hands on the barre (or shopping cart)” approach that we use to convince ourselves we can do any cabrioles at all as little kids. This doesn’t actually buy me any air time, so apparently this is entirely a mental thing. Avant on the other hand? Dunno yet.

    Bonus: it’s Hella fun doing shopping-cart double cabrioles across a parking lot in winter boots 😀

    Pathetic Fanboy Redux; Also, How Do Armband? 

    A bazillion (okay, six) years ago, when I was training in Muay Thai(1), there was a “How Do Armbar” meme that circulated the Mixed Martial Arts forums and made us all snicker uncontrollably and snorf our drinks at school and work. 

    1. If you dance and are looking for an effective stand-up fighting game(because who isn’t, I guess?), I highly recommend Muay Thai, because A) it’s hella fun and B) your existing flexibility, rond-de-jambe, grand battement, and ridiculously powerful legs give you a totally unfair advantage starting out. Basically, Muay Thai is a lot like ballet, only when you kick people in the head (for which, btw, you use your shins, not your feet), it’s on purpose and sometimes they grin at you and your instructor gets all joyfully goggle-eyed. Also, you get to learn the arcane art of hand-wrapping and how to legitimately punch a mofo, should need arise. There is much less face-punching in ballet. Usually. 

    Anyway, I apologize for committing not only meme necromancy, but obscure meme necromancy, in my title.

    Regarding which: OMG, you guys! Why did I never think of recycling worn-out socks into phone armbands? 

    It literally couldn’t be easier.  Here’s the source (lots of other amazing Mixed Martial Homemaking stuff on this blog, too, by the way):

    The Art of Doing Stuff: DIY Armband for Your Phone 

    For dancers, this is probably also a good way to repurpose that pair of legwarmers that looked amazing at the store, but started unraveling as soon as you took them off after class (I’m looking at you, sparkly legwarmers.)

    Because I can’t leave well enough alone, I think I’m going to work on a version that folds over at the top and buttons, because dance, amirite? No way my phone is going to stay in an unsecured sock-based armband during tombé-coupé-jeté. Not for a minute. 

    But this kind of thing could be incredibly useful for earphones-required rehearsals (Bluetooth earbuds are the best invention ever) and backstage warm-ups and everyday life (and running, and bike rides). Maybe I’ll sew them into pockets, too. Easy hand-sewing project, there. There are so many possibilities, here. 

    I may never have to wear actual trousers with actual pockets again!

    ~

    In other news, I went and got my Pathetic Fanboy on last night, and it was so worth it (though the music for “Mother Ginger” always gets stuck in my head, presumably because #AncientAliens).

    First, it’s weird watching The Nutcracker year after year and ticking off the parts you could actually do (and those you could do if you just had a reliable tombé-coupé-jeté: regarding which—in men’s technique, tombé in second to achieve maximum liftoff, apparently; forgot to mention that yesterday). 

    The last time I saw Nutcracker was two years ago. It was a totally different thing. I was really just climbing back into ballet, optimistically (and impatiently) forging my way back through all the stuff I’d learned as a kid. I had no experience of partnering. A lot of the men’s technique, in particular, still seemed further from my reach (let alone my grasp) than I cared to admit to myself. 

    This year, much of the choreography seemed reasonably in reach—partly thanks to simply having learned a lot, and partly because learning Albrecht’s variation taught me that I’m more capable than I think (though, like Albrecht’s variation, maybe I would have to learn things with single tours subbed in ’til I have solid doubles).

    Anyway, watching BW dance was, as always, enlightening. 

    First, I think it may have given me some insight into nailing down my double cabriole, which is one of next year’s #BalletGoals. 

    Second, BW’s technique is beautiful and clean and classical. Likewise, he legitimately makes partnering look so natural and effortless that it could be the kind of thing that just happens while you’re walking down the street or what have you(2).

    1. I don’t recommend just, like, ambush-partnering people, though. That might be taken wrongly, all things considered. So, in short, don’t roll up to the bus stop and be like, “Greetings, my good lady/fellow/etc,” and loft people above your head. They really might not appreciate it.

    And he seriously has the most beautiful legs. He has gigantor thighs like mine instead of sylph-like, Hallbergian ones, which rather flies in the face of our collective assumptions about what ballet bodies look like(3). They’re robust, yet so finely sculpted that you can practically see the individual muscle fibers(4, 5).

    1. Though maybe less so for people who don’t constantly simmer in a vat of ballet. Honestly, I’m pretty convinced that when the average American pictures a male ballet dancer, they always picture Baryshnikov, Nureyev, or possibly Carmen Miranda, although she was neither male nor a ballet dancer.
    2. To my great vexation, a month of sitting on my butt has largely de-sculpted mine :/ #FirstWorldDancerProblems
    3. Also, no, I didn’t just spend the whole ballet creeping on BW, though it totally sounds like I did. White tights, you guys. They hide nothing(6).
    4. Which is why(7) we have dance belts.
    5. Well, that, hernias, and testicular torsion.

    The other bit that seemed interesting: I noticed a few moments in which things subtly Didn’t Go According To Plan, and also why. I don’t know if that’s just a function of two years’ more experience and technique, or if it comes in part of watching painful video of myself dancing and thus learning to see why tiny error A leads to less tiny error B(8). Possibly both?

    1. As a whole, I think only one of these would have been visible to audience members who are neither dancers nor true balletomanes. 

     The second-act Sugar Plum pas de Deux wasn’t quite on form, though. I haven’t seen BR do classical partnering before, so I’m not sure if it’s not his thing or if it was just an off night. 

    The casting for Arabian seemed a bit strange. BB commented that this may have been intentional; our new AD is into pushing dancers out of their comfort zones. 

    Anyway, MK is the company’s resident Central Casting Classical Ballet Prince—and I mean that in a good way. That said, he’s not by nature the sinuous kind of mover the music demands. To my eye, he looked uncomfortable, and it translated into a stiff-ish performance. 

    His partner, on the other hand, was perfectly cast. If I remember correctly, she also danced Sugar Plum opposite BW’s cavalier in the other cast, though I can’t remember her initials right now to save my life.

     Also, an errant paper snowflake drifted down from the rigging and upstaged (well, technically, downstaged) everyone during the last part of the pas de deux. If there had been, like, ten snowflakes, it wouldn’t have been quite as funny. Instead, it was just just the one snowflake that maybe was asleep or something during the snow scene.

    Frankly, it was pretty hilarious, but I refrained from from laughing out out loud or narrating (“Omigosh, how did I miss my cue? Well, the show must go on—BANZAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIII!”).

    On the other hand, no little kids waved to their parents.  Apparently that happened once last year, and will now circulate in the Horror Story annals of the company and the school forever. 

    Of course, Nutcracker doesn’t close ’til the 22nd, so a wave could still roll in.

    The flowers, on the other hand, were really lovely this year, as were the flutes or Merlitons or whatever they are in our production (I suppose I could go find my program?). Tea—a solo in this company—was playful and skilful, while Spanish chocolate—a quartet—danced with brilliance and playful flirtation.

    On the whole, everything was beautiful and magical, as it should be. HUK shined as a very non-creepy Drosselmeyer, and one of my favorite dancers, SV, owned the Russian dance (our company’s rendition isn’t my favorite, but it’s still pretty fun).
    So that was Nutcracker, and now it’s on to whatever’s next. I know The Sleeping Beauty is coming up, and I’m looking forward to that.

    Huzzah

    Finally feeling up to Saturday Class, so I figured I’d make it a double. We’re off for the next two weeks (Winter Break, booooooo).

    In Advanced Class, barre, adagio, turns, waltz, and terre-a-terre were pretty darned good, petit allegro was acceptable, and grand-ish allegro was a disaster en mènage. I kept alternately effing up tombé-coupé-jeté and leaving out the transitional step that came after. Blargh. Going left, I kept doing my balancé en tournant inside out like a total n00b, which then forced me to do my t-c-j backwards.

    At least I haven’t done any backwards turns(1) in a while?

    1. I have no idea when backwards turns stopped happening, but they did, at least for now.

    In Nominally-Beginner-But-Actually-Intermediate Class, everything was good except petit allegro, by which time my legs weighed approximately 1,354 kilograms each. I couldn’t get them to do things quickly. In fact, they were not terribly willing to do things at all. 

    Nonetheless, the entire day was completely redeemed by the girl who asked me after class, “Are you in the company?” (She was my partner for all all the across-the-floor stuff, and she was also pretty good.) 

    I refrained, of course, from asking her to marry me on the spot, since I’m already married, etc. But it was a very welcome thing to hear, especially on a day when I’m not feeling at my best.

    Speaking of The Company, tonight we get to see BW and TB Nutcrackering. Yaaaaaay!

    I’m a little sad that we didn’t we get to see BW as the Cavalier last night (because A) broke and B) so freaking insanely busy), but we still get to see one of his Partnering Masterclass performances.

    My introduction to BW, by the way, followed the first performance in which I saw him dance a pas de deux. The very next class, he showed up and, if I remember correctly, installed himself on my barre (we were on portables, 4 or 6 to a barre,because there were like 30 people in class). 

    I proceeded to quietly have a heart attack throughout class. I am marginally ashamed to admit that I felt felt more or less how a teenaged girl in the 1960s would have felt if John Lennon sat next to her in music class. Only, you know, ballet, so both we were both more or less in our underwear.(2)

    1. Ballet: because hero worship isn’t awkward enough.

    Yeah, I know. #PatheticFanboy 

    But I kept it all inside, because I’m cool like dat. 

    B|  <— my cool face 

    Anyway, I need to go takeashowerchangeandbuyflowersforBW, so that’s it for now.

    And then, two weeks to clean, finish the book-keeping for the year, and get back in shape (because holy cow, soooooooo out of shape right now). 

    My Shortest Post Ever, Probably 

    I’m a member of the “believe in yourself” generation, but I don’t. 

    I mostly talk a good game, though.  

    A Very Brief Public Service Announcement 

    Epi-con-DYYYYYYYYYYYYYLE

    Only don’t be all swaybacked ‘n’ shizzle.

    Ceci n’est pas un pun.

    This last drawing turned out looking too much like just coupé arrière, but as you can probably tell, I was done effing around in S-Note by then.

    In short, though, if your instructor shouts, “BACK OF THE KNEE!!!” when you’re firing off your pique turns, make sure you’re not the party poupé-er attaching your foot halfway between passé and coupé.

    We now return to our regularly-scheduled Break Week.

    Okay, Just One More 

    … Before I take a break. 

    Performance went pretty well tonight.

    On the other hand, about half the stage stabbed me in the butt. 

    I had to change out of my shorts after “Lean On Me,” because OMG:

    Key included for scale.

    The corresponding hole in my shorts, happily, doesn’t align with anything that might be considered obscene. 

    As D observed, “That’s why you should only dance on marley.”

    …Our at least run a Giant Splinter Check with something other than your butt. 

    A Break, Maybe?  

    I’ve started and scuttled four or five posts this week, and just now figured out that maybe (GASP!) I should take a brief break from the ol’ blorg. I’m not really doing social media right now, either. 

    Now is a good time—this week has been jammed with rehearsals and, for me, last-minute learning of choreography for a piece that lost a dancer to illness (I mean, she didn’t die, she’s just out sick; fortunately, this dance is neither long nor difficult, so picking it up in two days has been okay). Next week is the last week of Dance Team for the semester, so we’re doing an improv workshop and team banquet on Friday. I also need to check in with my own wee group of dancers and schedule rehearsals for “Work Song.”

    Class updates: Thursday class is on hiatus until after Nutcracker (because BW is Dancing All The Things), Wednesday Class has a sub (who I like very much) until the end of the month because Killer B is also Nutcrackering (IIRC, on Key West!). Saturday class continues with excellent substitutes. I’m going back (finally) tomorrow, though I may just do barre. I chose to call it a day after barre on Wednesday this week, and I think that was the right decision, and while I’m feeling more like normal now, JP’s teaching, and I may or may not have it in me to do his full class. Sunday, I’m back to teaching.

    I’ve put Monday class and all Tuesday classes on hold until I get my waterfowls in a linear array, because it’s the only one I feel the least bit flexible about. I’ve been having a rough time getting caught up on stuff that got behind behind at home  while I was sick (in other words, literally everything). That needs to get sorted quickly, and now (before we jump into the fray of “Work Song” rehearsals, Spring Dance Team, and Even Moar ballet) seems like a good time. 

    So I am pretty sure I’ll be taking a one-week break, and I might make it two.

    But I am, as always,  Not Dead Yet. 

    And for all all those celebrating all the various holidays:

    So paper. Many joy. Wow

    In Which Your Humble Author Gets Shot In The Butt By His Doctor

    …Okay, okay, so technically I got a shot (of steroids) and technically it was in the nebulous region that is not quite butt, not quite hip. (If sideboob is a thing, shouldn’t sidebutt also be a thing? If not, I hereby declare sidebutt to be A Thing.)

    And in the interest of full disclosure, the nurse actually stuck me. Apparently she doesn’t jab dancers in the sidebutt very often, as it took her a moment to orient herself in the unique landscape of Square Danseur Hindquarters. 

    Erm, hooray for ballet muscles? 

    Once she found the landmark she needed, though, the injection was painless (though slightly sore afterwards, while my body went, “Wait, WTF is this, now? Oh, anti-inflammatories, right, let’s get on distributing that.”). 

    I am also on an antibiotic again—a different one, this time, to ensure that we don’t just just wind up leaving some doxy-resistant bastidges behind.

    The Dx is more or less what I suspected—a relapse of the most recent sinus/ear infection, probably secondary to the viral horror currently laying waste to Louisville (basically, a nasty cold). The corticosteroid is intended to reduce the inflammation in my sinuses enough to get everything to drain this time. Take that, Solenopsia! 

    The really gross part . . . erm, wait. Grossness warning! Icky stuff ahead, y’allz. Feel free to skip past the next paragraph. 

    Okay, so the really gross part is is that the conjunctivitis resulted from goop in my maxillary sinus finding the only available way out. THROUGH MY EYE SOCKET(1). Ewww. Squick. On the other hand, it has basically cleared up today, so…

    1. I tend to sleep in a little ball on my right side, and the right side of my nose and throat were basically swollen shut, hence the right eye)

    Anyway, between the steroid, which gets to work fairly fast, and all the other pharmaceuticals I’ve crammed into my bloodstream, I managed to actually get some things done done today. 

    I also found a 12-hour cough suppressant syrup. It bills itself as orange flavored, but in fact is strongly redolent of mango, with notes of chalk and tangerine and a bouquet suggestive of a fine aluminum foil. It’s surprisingly not that revolting, as such things go, though it certainly wouldn’t be my first choice as a dessert liqueur.

    The important thing is that it works, so I should finally be able to get a full night’s sleep, without a 3 or 5 AM dextromethorphan top-up, I hope.

    I hate missing BW’s class, but stayed home tonight for my own good. We shall see how Saturday looks, but I’m optimistic. Tomorrow we take Dance Team to the aerials studio for a workshop, which is totally exciting.

    And now to bed, because ugh, I’m tired. But OTOH I cooked a lot and washed all the freaking dishes.