Category Archives: balllet

Wednesday Class: Body Not So Good Without Brain

I hope I wasn’t a disappointment to l’ancien directeur-artistique today!

I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about and applying his note about my supporting leg, and it’s coming along.

That said, I had absolutely no brain this morning, and was having trouble remembering combinations, and instead of just being like, “Meh, whatevs, I’ll do the part I do remember and maybe I’ll catch up,” I got rattled.

So there’s that.

In other news, I went to Ye Olde Local Dance Shoppe today in search of MOAR LEGWARMERS (and maybe some suspendery-tights) and, while I didn’t find any of those, I did come home with a new dance belt.

It’s a WearMoi, and apparently they’ve recently redesigned them. It’s really similar in conception and execution to the BodyWrappers M006/M007 (though it splits the difference in terms of waistband-width, coming in at 3″ instead of 2″ or 4″).

Thus far, it seems pretty legit. It’s going to Trapeze 3 tonight, which is a pretty good trial if you ask me (not quite as good as Lyra or Albrecht’s variation, but still pretty good).

Update: I forgot we had lyra class tonight. The WM belt performed admirably in trap 3 (AKA advanced adventures in knot-tying) and in lyra!

Lyra is a heartless breaker of the dreams of dance belts, so this is no small matter.

That’s it for now. Further update to follow. Full initial review pending a good dance class (maybe Company B tomorrow?).

Choreography: Iterations

On Sunday, I banged out what turned out to be a kind of very rough first draft of the choreography for an upcoming Lyra performance that opens with a bunch of ballet.

I video-ed the initial draft choreography and discovered that, at least for me, video is a really useful tool for the choreographic process. It let me analyze my own dance from an audience perspective (only one: the person sitting at the corner of audience R, heh), which in turn helped me figure out what worked and what needed to change.

Today, I worked the ballet part again, and I think I’ve resolved some of the problems I ran into with the first draft — particularly the excessive repetition and the fact that I’d boringly choreographed everything down the same diagonal and back.

I didn’t record video today, but instead wrote the choreo down by hand. This is progress; I used to have trouble doing that because I couldn’t always figure out what to call intermediate things.

Now I just write “step through in coupé” (or short-hand “step thru coupé) or whatever best describes the action if it doesn’t have a really discrete name.

Also, I no longer get my Eighty-Seven Cardinal Directions of Ballet confused (thanks to Company B), which makes it soooooo much easier to write out the instructions.

I just realized, though, that for some reason I dropped one of my favorite sequences (your traditional:

pique arabesque – chassée – tour jeté – something else

…So maybe I’ll put it back in on the next iteration, with or without the interesting little pivot that kept appending itself to the landing of the tour jeté.

That said, I also addedtombé – pas de bourrée – glissade – Pas de Chat Italien into a balance à la seconde.

~

This iterative process feels very comfortable, which surprises me.

As a choreographer, I’m apparently quite happy to just bang out a very rough initial draft.

By contrast, as a writer, my initial drafts tend to feel pretty finished because I work into the diction and sound and feeling and imagery of the writing so much.

This means that my initial drafts as a writer take foreeeeeeeeevar, while an initial choreographic draft can be accomplished in a few minutes for a short piece (obviously, you’re not going to choreograph a 3-act ballet in 10 minutes, unless each act is like one minute long).

I think we have another Open Fly session tonight, so I might shoot some video of the second draft of my choreography, and possibly also the lyra choreography, if I’m feeling up to it.

Maybe this time I’ll remember to bring an external speaker so I can have video and sound AT THE SAME TIME!!! O.O

I think I will, in time, post my various iterative videos here. I haven’t ported the first two (both first-draft videos, but recorded in two separate phrases) over to the YouTubes yet, though.

~

In other news, yesterday’s rest day went well, and I learned that one of my favorite dancers and instructors is also an incredibly good cook. Like, somehow, in the midst of teaching and rehearsing and generally being amazing, he also found time to make two really good pie crusts from scratch and fill them with amazing savory pies also from scratch.

I already knew that he was a really lovely human being … only, now I’m not so sure that’s accurate.

Specifically I am not entirely sure he’s actually a human being; he might really be a unicorn in elaborate biped drag.

Video Killed The … Oh, Wait

Okay, so I couldn’t really think of a good title for this post. Video hasn’t killed anything in my life recently except my own misconceptions about the progress I’m making.

In the past year, I’ve really been trying to “bust my butt,” ballet-wise: taking class more often, taking actual physical notes, working like crazy on port de bras in the mirror at home, applying things learned in modern or aerials to my ballet training … even looking at my limitations and challenges through different eyes*.

*Maybe through cheetah eyes? Maybe not. Anyway … it’s like:

Okay, so I’ve got huge knees. So what? Nureyev had huge knees.

Okay, so when I’m in demi-pointe, only three toes (and the attendant portion of the ball of my foot) are actually on the ground … so what? I personally know at least two guys who are not only professional dancers, but key members of their respective companies, whose feet are shaped like mine.

Besides, I can physically lift my body off the floor with those three toes. Those are my jumping toes, y’all.

The thing is, where ballet is concerned, the goal-posts move constantly, and sometimes they move really fast. In other words, it’s easy to lose sight of the progress you’re making (especially when you routinely take class with seriously amazing company dancers — which, IMO, you should if you can; it will make you a better dancer).

This is, it turns out, where video can be an ally.

I shot my first bits of ballet video back in December of last year. Even watching them then, I felt like I had so, so very far to go.

I shot my most recent bit of ballet video today, while working on a new piece for Suspend (it’s about half ballet, half ballet-on-the-lyra, heh). I still, of course, feel like I have so, so very far to go: I will feel like that for the rest of my life, because that’s ballet for you.

But I also feel like I have come so, so much further than I would have thought possible in the intervening time.

It’s really, really hard to fathom how much I’ve changed as a dancer in the time that elapsed between those two recordings.

There are still times that I do weird things with my arms. I still have a bad habit of telegraphing the moments when I don’t quite remember what I’m supposed to do next (note to self : STOP THAT, ALREADY).

I still have challenges translating between the Movie-In-My-Head that I create when I’m making dances and the actual dance, because when I’m dancing I lose track of the movie in my head (so then I just wind up reverting to tons of rond de jambes or pique turns or whatevs; lately, attitude turns and renversé are in heavy rotation as well).

But the way I carry myself is surprisingly different. Surprisingly better. My arms kind of know what they’re about. My body isn’t basically a gelatin mold (I’m not talking about fat distribution, BTW — I’m talking about core engagement). My legs seem to more or less understand what’s going on. Everything is more or less on the same page more or less all the way through.

I can almost watch the video I shot today without cringing. I only have to cringe a little**, though I suspect that a year from now I won’t actually even be able to watch it, because when I watch it, some inner part of me will be all like, OMG! HOW COULD YOU HAVE THOUGHT THAT WAS GOOD, YOU TWIT!

**Like: it opens with this developpé, which is in and of itself awkward, because EVERY FREAKING TIME I make adagio dances they open with the same stupid developpé avant en effacé, except when they go croisé instead. Indeed, I am so thorough in this regard that the first partnered adagio I made opens with BOTH AT THE SAME TIME, mirroring one-another >.<

But, anyway, the developpé starts off nicely, and then just above 90 degrees my working leg is like, “Newp, too tired. Hahahahahaha.”

trollface

Leg be like: “Okay, so we start with trollface en effacé…”

So. Annoying.

Anyway.

Here’s my point: I think, too often, we don’t feel the progress we’re making in the ballet studio. We notice it when we suddenly develop a skill we didn’t have before (OMG DOUBLE ATTITUDE TURNS!), but the rest of the time we just don’t see it at all.

Ballet makes you weirdly myopic.

You forget how bad your single turns were six months ago. You forget that you didn’t actually have a reliable attitude turn.

You forget that renversé was hard once; that contretemps were just WTF (and definitely not something you could just toss into a variation, like, because); that your brisée was, exactly as its name implies, broken (pro tip: brisée is actually easier if you do it with the prescribed arms … though I could not even remotely begin to explain why). That your beats were, um, beat. That your developpé remained undeveloped. That your extensions were just, like, tensions, really.

You forget that, not all that terribly long ago in the grand scheme of things, you had some kind of crazy mental block about glissade-assemblé and spectacularly wild arms.

Video can help you with that — even if you can’t stand to watch your old videos again. If your brain is anything like mine, the endless blooper reel that is last year’s videos has been seared upon your brain FOREVAR, so you won’t have to watch them again. Video can remind you how far you’ve come***.

***And also that you’re STILL DROPPING YOUR FREAKING ARMS INSTEAD OF COMING THROUGH A PROPER FIRST, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, OMG, I CANNOT WATCH THIS ANYMORE, I’m feeling a little verklempt, talk amongst yourselves, I’ll give you a topic: FREAKING PORT DE BRAS, FOR G-D’S SAKE.

Anyway, at the end of the day, this all amounts to one thing: MOAR MOTIVATION (which, to be fair, isn’t a thing I really lack, where dancing is concerned).

Not to say that I’m not going to enjoy my week with two rest days (because it’s now been two solid weeks since I’ve taken a rest day, even though I was like I AM NOT DANCING ON MONDAY. OKAY, SO THEN NOT ON THURSDAY. FRIDAY? NO, MUST DANCE FRIDAY; EF IS TEACHING …Crap. It’s Sunday already, isn’t it?).

But I’m looking forward to further pursuing those elusive goalposts.

They’re not going to catch themselves, after all.

Another Good Reason Always To Go In The First Group

That moment when you screw something up spectacularly at the end of the combination going across the floor and hear yourself hiss, “S**T!” in an unintentional stage whisper — but you’re at the front of the first group, so nobody hears you.

Thursday Class: Company B Sorts My Arms

Tonight, I went to Company B’s class, and I’m glad I did.

Barre was generally good, though my arms crept back past my shoulders a couple of times, as is their wont (the downside of hypermobility: wonky proprioception).

Turns and waltz, too, went well. Company B gives us little the touches of finish — turn your head to the audience here; give them your cheekbones there, carry your arms through this chassée, add a little brush out of the pas de bourré.

These are the things I’m working on, now: refining, refining, dancing not only with with the music and myself but my fellow dancers (which was what I loved most about my duo with C — we naturally connected at various points in the choreography in a way that adds a great deal of life to the piece) and, most importantly, with the audience.

Anyway, the port de bras for the chassée — pas de bourré at the start of our terre-a-terre turns made me understand the arms that go with Albrecht’s variation. I thanked Company B for for this and he took a moment working it out, I think to be sure there wasn’t another piece I might need (which there was; there’s a cambré that comes at the beginning of the first sequence of jumps and between it and the repeat of that sequence that I’ve been forgetting). 

Turns were on today. I’m much more relaxed around Company B, as we sort of know each-other socially at this point and his teaching style works so well for me. In his class, I mostly  don’t attack my turns with the kind of frenetic madness that I often do elsewhere. Because of that, they’re better.

We did a really lovely zigzag waltz, which I kept screwing up in various small ways because I was focused on making it pretty — so first I left out the second set of waltz turns, and then I forgot to zag and had to catch up, and then I left out the second set of waltz turns again.

I redeemed myself with jumps, though: managed to do entrechats quatres with a smile on my face, even though I had inadvertently rearranged the choreography (thanks, muscle memory!), and in our grand-allegro I substituted cabrioles for temps levées arabesques. We were granted a little freedom to improvise, so I added tombé-pas de bourré-glissade-pas de chat, for which Company B offered further guidance on my arms.

I threw in one Italian cat, just for fun.

After class, Company B and B chatted for a while, so I reviewed the duo: specifically, the part that looks easiest, and is actually the hardest — a series of pique arabesque balances with a kind of character-dance port de bras interspersed with contretemps. The tricky part is constantly changing the arms through the contretemps while continuing to make everything look blithe and fun and effortless (oy — ballet, amirite?). You say (pique arabesque-ing toward the wings), “Here I am, ladies!” Then (pique arabesque-ing toward center stage), “Here I am, old buddy! Pretty girls in this village!” Then (pique arabesque—ing back toward the wings), “Me again, ladies! Check out these legs!”

And you definitely should not look uncertain about about it, or all lithely and tragically romantic like you will in the next act when the Wilis have got you (yeah, perfect setup for a “Mother Russia” one-liner).

So, anyway. Good class. Good night 🙂 

Wednesday Everything, OMG 

Summer Intensive being over, Killer Class with Ms.B is back. 

It wasn’t too bad yesterday, though I was too bad yesterday.

Sure, a year ago, I would’ve killed for a class in which I was like, “Yeah, I’m hella tired; I’ve only got half-baked double turns and single assemblés battu.” 

Still, I felt like an ongoing disaster: my rotators didn’t want to stay rotated, my balances were Meh, my balancés were Meh, I had trouble keeping things in my head, and at one point I forgot we had already done both sides of a combination and stood there blinking with the wrong hand on the barre while everyone else patiently waited for me arrange my waterfowls, etc.

Still, I made it through. Even managed beats in petit allegro, which was mercifully slower than Ms. E’s on Monday, during which I mentally grumbled about wishing we could do men’s tempo for once whilst simultaneously observing that any Danish-trained danseur could certainly manage this tempo so that’s no excuse. 

Grand allegro was better than I expected it to be, if not quite awesome.

I think les turnouts (which, regardless of Autocorrupt’s delightful suggestion, are definitely not “turbos” right now) and the leg-springy muscles need a day off. They might get one today, but I’m still on the fence — do I go take class with Company B, or do I acknowledge the fact that I’m rapidly careering towards two straight weeks without a rest day?

Anyway, afternoon and evening comprised a therapy appointment, my first Trap 3 class, Hoop 1, a break during which I stuffed hummus wraps into my face as I tried not not to heckle Denis during his Trap 1 class (which he’s intelligently taking to supplement Trap 2) and then some futzing about in the Dance Corner, where I discovered that I really shouldn’t more than mark Albrecht because that floor beats the holy hell out of your legs after a couple of runs of big jumps (to be fair, it’s not intended for grand allegro executed by someone with a lot of jump).

Trap 3 was revelatory. I got bumped up from 1 to 2 and from 2 to 3 very quickly because apparently that whole thing about lacking upper body strength was some kind of delusion and I’m naturally flexible, while ballet has imparted enough grace, coordination, and kinesthetic awareness to successfully tackle all the things. 

Trap 3, on the other hand, is going to be harder. I expected, for example, to nail meathooks yesterday because I have solid single-knee hangs, a stellar center-split, and controlled v-ups. Ha! In Mother Russia, it turns out, meathook nails you. 

Our instructor, who I’ll call Siren (because I somehow just realized that there are two Aerial Ms!), pointed out that for for me it’s not a question of strength, but of figuring out how to get all the parts to work together in an unfamiliar way*.

  • *This, by the way, typifies my learning process even in ballet: I fumble through the first several attempts at almost any complex new motor pattern, and then it just gels and I have it. The notable exceptions have been tour jeté, single cabriole, assemblée en tournant, and single tours, all of which I apparently learned by divine inspiration. You should have seen me trying to figure out Sissone double, though. Oy to the vey. 

In short: meathooks are … hmm. Ronds-de-jambes that you do in a different plane whilst in a long-arm hang with your head down and your junk up against the bar in such a way as to finish folded over your own arm or arms.

They should end up looking like this (thanks, YouTube!), more or less.

Our meathook exercise involves transitioning from inverted straddle to left two-handed meathook through inverted straddle to right two-handed meathook and back. So far, when I’m lucky, I can get from inverted straddle to an approximation of one meathook or the other — and that’s it.
Trying to convince your shoulders to continue to engage and your body to remain upright while you patiently rond first one leg, then the other around the barre is mind-bogglingly difficult.

I think part part of my difficulty, though, was that I set my grip too wide, which (because T -Rex arms) makes it potentially impossible to engage correctly through my shoulders and and chest. I have this same problem with the arrow/pencil inversion on lyra (and its children, pike and Verukai [sp?], when I don’t remember to set my grip a little narrower than instinct suggests). 

Still, I managed to finagle my way through the Cuddles sequence (I can only assume its name is at least somewhat ironic), which opens with an inversion into a pike across one of the ropes (or, in short, a kind of inversion into a meathook sans straddle) — and the fact that I’m very much capable of managing that inversion suggests that, indeed, strength is not the problem.

After the initial inversion, “Cuddles” involves more or less waving your legs around artfully to tie yourself in a very complicated sliding knot, from which you next glide first into a split and then into a leana, slipping yourself free of your knot as you go. 

It’s a devilishly complex motor sequence, roughly akin to the opening phrase of Albrecht’s variation in terms of coordination and motor planning (though not in the modulation of force, which is part of what makes Albrecht’s variation hard).

After all that, Hoop 1 felt like a walk in the park (which is good — I wasn’t sure that lyra as a chaser for a hefty  draught of trapeze was anything like a good idea), though I made the same grip-width mistake on my first go at the day’s enchaînement.

After, I shot some video of Albrecht’s variation broken into phrases so I could work on properly  sequencing my arms. I think, though, that I’m not going to run it on that floor anymore — I tried to turn down the jump on the cabrioles, but when I do that, the result is cabrioles badly executed, with the top leg dropping to meet the bottom as it swings up to beat (to be fair, it does have the decency to spring back up again — but it shouldn’t drop in the first place). Not a habit I want to cultivate! (I also need to get out of the habit of doing tiny, cautious tours, which I won’t on that floor). 

So I think from here out I’ll either run it on the mats or just mark the legs and train arms and épaulement, depending on whether the matts are free.

Port de bras and épaulement are definitely major goals, now. It doesn’t matter how high you jump or how well you travel if your arms aren’t up to speed. At the end of the day, in fact, that’s the thing that makes me fall in love with Russian dancers every time I see them — they can stand around doing nothing with their legs and break your heart just by lifting their arms.

I want to bring that both to my dancing and to my trapeze and lyra work.

So there you have my new Wednesday schedule in a nut-shell. Killer Ballet followed by Hard-Mode Trapeze, then a lyra class that feels like a break!

A Singularly Awesome Day; Also, Have Some Improv

Today, a small group of us got to do an exclusive trapeze performance for a group of people who are way under-served in our community. It was fantastic to be able to take our show to them — they had a great time, and so did we.

Back at home, I managed to get some laundry done, then trundled off to the studio for Denis’ trapeze class and our mutual flexibility/mobility (which I definitely needed; in retrospect, I should definitely have brought the foam roller last week!) and acro-balancing 2 classes.

Suspend usually has good music playing, and I am unable to resist the urge to dance, so eventually I relocated myself to our dance corner. The dance floor is slightly sprung, but it’s still better than the concrete corner where I had initially been trying to convince myself that even itty, bitty jumps were a bad idea.

The meditation/yoga hammocks were still hanging down, and while mucking about on the dance floor, I happened upon the idea of leaping from one open space to another, skimming between visible and invisible zones.

I wound up playing around with the idea and eventually wound up recording a few minutes of the little improv that came out of it.

To be sure, there are definitely some complete WTF moments — like, at one point I wind up on the ground and decide that I should fold myself in half.

What am I thinking in that moment?

Who knows?

I sure as heck couldn’t tell you. At one point, you can clearly tell by the look on my face that I’ve realized I’m doing something that doesn’t really make any sense, and that I have no idea what I should do to fix it.

There are also some moments I really like; ideas that I plan to work on — a bunch of nifty développes, some interesting turns that kind of fold in on themselves; a sequence of pas de chats, another of glissades.

I wasn’t paying any real attention to technique (in case you’re curious, this is more or less what I look like when I go out clubbing, heh); instead, I was making up little rules in my head and seeing what happened when I attempted to follow them — but I think with some attention to technique, something could be made of them. I think next time I’m going to try alternating between the two methods of travel; in this space, that could be pretty interesting visually.

I didn’t notice until I had watched this a couple times that there’s also kind of a motif that occurs near both the beginning and the end (totally not planned; the end of the video is the point at which I realized I had like 2 minutes before my class started)There’s also a brief conversation with Aerial M, asked if I wanted the hammocks put up (when I said I was using them, she actually said, “Cool!” but you can’t really hear that bit).

There are also several moments in which I want to strangle myself for doing the weird things that I so frequently do with my arms, though in a way seeing them in video is helpful, because I don’t usually realize that I’m doing them (the downside of hypermobility: sometimes, you really have no idea where your body parts are).

Watching video of myself dancing, I’m always like, “Wait, why are you dropping your arms there? Why did you just — no! PUT THEM BACK, THEY SHOULD GO AROUND THE OTHER WAY, YOU MORON, DON’T—” and then I realize that yelling at a video of yourself is even dumber, somehow, than yelling at the TV.

Anyway, here, have this little video of me playing around in warm-ups and leg-warmers as a sort of aperitif, and I’ll work on making a better recording of Albrecht’s variation. I think we’re going to try to get the new balancé video done this Friday or next Wednesday, schedules (and weather; we’re crazy, so we’re planning on recording it outdoors!) being what they are.

Edit: PS, I know that a bunch of times, it sounds like I’m hitting the floor really, really hard — that’s an artifact of the way my phone records sound and possibly of the floor itself.

PPS: I have absolutely no idea which song is playing.

balancé (en tournant) under >.<

After what feels like a jillion years being confused about part of the naming convention vis-a-vis balancé, I just finally (while thinking about how to re-do my balancé video) figured it out.

The over/under ones (en tournant) are named based on where your foot is going.

HERP. DE. DERP.

Having heretofore failed to make this distinction, I couldn’t even properly link the terms “balancé under” and “balancé over” to the concepts of en dedans and en dehors*.

*There is a part of my brain that is perpetually nine years old and always chooses to translate “en dehors” as “in the out” and then snicker about it.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, when someone says, “balancé under*,” what they mean is that the working foot passes behind (sometimes expressed as dessous: under, in the same sense that the leg to the rear is “under” in sus-sous or that coupé dessous means “cut under”) as you come through the turn.

*So, with all the French, balancé (en tournant) dessous, which works out to balancé (en tournant) en dedans.

So, say you’re doing balancé à droit – balancé à gauche – balancé under – fourth?

In the balancé under, you:

grab your Metro strap with the right hand (à la Strap-Hanger Waltz)
brush out with the right foot, step onto it – pivot – plié
as the left foot comes around in coupé derrière
continue the turn as you step onto the left foot and plié
pique back onto the right foot and complete the turn
tombé onto the left foot in fourth

This will make my life so much easier, as it’s easy to miss the distinction if you blink when you’re watching the combination, and it helps to have a meaningful description to fall back on.

Honestly, I have spent so many years going, “BUT IT ALWAYS GOES UNDER THE ARM. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. DOES NOT COMPUTE! ABORT! ABORT! QWERTYUIOPASDFGHJKetc…”

Why did it take me this long to figure this out? And WHY HAVE I NEVER ASKED? FFS. This is why I remain a Danseur Ignoble: if I had thought to ask all the questions I should have asked by now, instead of just quietly puzzling away in my pretty little head, I’d clearly be a proper danseur noble by now (SHUT UP. OF COURSE THAT’S HOW IT WORKS. LALALALALALALA I CAN’T HEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAR YOUUUUUUUUU.).

>.<

…On the upside, I will now be capable of actually teaching balancé under (and over) to my Sunday class, instead of just going, “Um, you sorta go like this?” and hoping they’ve all had their coffee and Adderall.

Monday Class: A Rule of the Universe

Even though it was completely unnecessary and unreasonable, I decided to do class today.

My lower core, adductors, and turnout muscles are on strike. I worked them really hard last week, and they need a little R & R  — which in turn means that I can’t ballet to save my life right now.

I knew that, but I figured I’d go in and just take it easy; move around a little. I figured my balances would probably suck and I was dead certain my petit allegro would suck (it did), but that was okay. I was just going in to stretch a little.

Of course, I had forgotten about one of the chief rules of the Ballet universe:

If you’re having a bad day, the AD or former AD will come to your class.

I’m not actually sure how this works.

Do they have time-turners?

Are they actually Time Lords, perhaps?

How is it that if there are five classes going on (though today we were the only class), either the AD or former AD of the company will simultaneously happen into every single class in which someone is having a bad day?

Anyway, our former AD came and took class with us (which was actually lovely, he’s quite a beautiful dancer and a fine human being). Predictably, my barre was terrible and everything else was even more terrible, with the exception of one or two nice tour jetés that happened after he left (of course).

Oh, and there was a decent-enough attitude arrière balance on the left, though not quite my usual standard. Balances are hard when the muscles that hold your legs on are basically trying to unspool, you guys.

I shall attempt to remind myself that Former AD has seen me dance on good days as well (presumably, someone else was having a bad day on those occasions).

Anyway, I did more or less take it easy, and I’m really rather glad that I went to class, because I think my legs are happier for it. I did make an effort not to overwork them (not that they were about to let me), and basically just got my heart rate up and my blood flowing a little. No Supreme Efforts in the interest of Achieving Transcendant Grace or whatever.

And I emphatically did not walk through Albrecht’s variation, though I did show B the really cool Sissone-thing from it that, sadly, didn’t come off as beautifully on Saturday as it did on Friday … or as it did this morning, but it’s really easy to do in isolation:

giant demi-pliè to gather momentum
spring straight up with the legs in tight sus-sous as if in a really high sourbesaut
just at the apex of the jump, allow your back leg to take wing

Port de bras:
gather your arms in from 2nd to 1st as you load the spring
toss (not throw; we’re not doing tours) them lightly to en haut/3rd/5th/35th
at the apex, give them just a little extra stretch
float them down through 2nd to 1st (or whatever the choreography requires)

The effect is magnificent when it comes off — basically, it enhances whatever natural ballon you possess about a zillionfold and creates this lovely illusion of floating.

For whatever reason, whenever I do this or tours, I tend to arc my body as if I’m doing the fish jump — so, evidently, I need to get back to working on balancing the stength of my anterior core muscles.

My back is hella strong (I guess because arabesques?), and right now it has way too much pull.

How to Survive Your Dance Intensive for Grown-A** Adults (Version 1)

Now that I’ve got a whopping two (2!! Like the number of exclamation points I just used!!) adult dance intensives under my belt, I have lots of facts intel opinions about things you should do to make sure you get through in one piece — and, of course, as your faithful Danseur Ignoble, I am duty bound to share them.

You know, for the good of humankind, or at least dancer-kind, and all that stuff.

So, without further ado, here they are.

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First, know that you’re capable of more than you think you are.

Let me say that again, with fancy formatting:

You are capable of more than you think you are.

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