Ten Questions, Ten Answers

Dear Readers and fellow dancers, it's time for another questionnaire... I hope you have time to answer as many questions as you like! To start, here are mine:

1. What is your favorite time for ballet class? 

How about always? Ok, seriously. I love my morning classes, because nothing gets in the way between waking up and taking to the barre. Except for a good breakfast, you can't dance without one. Although, sometimes I wish I could sleep a little longer. And have a nap after class. Still, it's an awesome way to start the day! Oh, and time-wise I also love my Sunday classes. Because I can nap afterwards.

2. How many classes do you take on a weekly basis?

On a regular basis, six classes. 90 min morning class on Tuesdays (adv.level), 90 min (adv.) + 45 min pointe on Wednesdays, 90 min morning class (adv) on Thursdays + 60 min rehearsal in the evening, 90 min (int-adv) on Sundays. Saturdays is optional, and occasionally, I might take a class on Fridays.

3. What do you eat before class?

In the mornings, it's usually a banana, müsli with yoghurt or oatmeal, and lots of coffee. When I have class in the evenings, I need a substantial snack between lunch and class. Bananas, again, and I also like to take one of those organic nut-fruit bars along. I don't always get it right, and when hunger strikes mid-class, it's best to have something easily digestible that you can take a quick bite off (before center).

4. What's inside your ballet bag?

It depends on my schedule, but this is what I packed today: Pointe shoes, toe tape (+ small scissors), flatties, new pair of flatties (Bloch Pro Flex canvas), black leggings, purple leggins (I like to have a spare), new blue 3/4 sleeve leo, black leo (again, I like to have choices), skirt, short black shorts (old ones, from H&M), favorite loose long-sleeve flowy t-shirt (you can wrap it into a skirt), hair pins, elastic, hairspray, brush, water bottle, energy bars, ibuprofen. Plus all the other stuff a girl needs on a daily basis.

5. How do you prepare for class?

In the mornings, there's very little time. We don't get into the studio until 15 minutes before. I put my hair up at home, and wear most of my dance clothes under my regular wear, to save time. Once I'm at the barre, I focus on my feet, hip flexors and back of thighs. I try to loosen up and lengthen myself. I don't need to warm up, barre work does it for me. But it depends who's teaching. With some teachers, I need more preparation time (and different exercises) to get ready. Otherwise, I prepare for class by stretching in the evenings. I've noticed that it makes a big difference.

6. What's your favorite part of class?

All of it. Okay, it depends somewhat on the teacher (I was thinking about my favorite classes). If it's a very basic, but hard and tiring barre - then I'll enjoy center even more. I like adagio, moving across the floor, pirouettes (despite bad turn days), and I love allegro. So, really all of it.

7. What's your biggest challenge in class?

Not comparing myself to other (better) dancers. Do I really need to explain why? Also, overcoming my shyness to "present myself." Not losing confidence. Keeping my focus when I feel discouraged. And, of course, all the technical stuff. Maintaining turn out at all times, pointing toes to the max, keeping that popo down, and my back long, heels forwarded, not jumping into my turns, spotting those pirouettes, and the list goes on... Ballet would not be ballet without the challenge!

8. What is your level?

Someone once commented that I'm not a very advanced dancer, considering all the years I have taken class.. This may be true, but how do you measure advancement? And why should you even care? Ballet is not a sport, we don't keep track of our turns, beats and balances. Having said that, my level is not carved in stone. Depending on the day and exercise, I fluctuate between advanced beginner, beginning intermediate and intermediate-advanced. There's always something to work on - that's what makes it so interesting.

9. Describe a "moment" you had in class.

It can be anything, like an unexpected but awesome balance. When I finally nail a turn, perfectly on axis. Or when I don't have to think about the steps and it's only about feeling the music. When I've been struggling with a difficult step, and suddenly get it! Or when I feel there's just been real progress, and my teacher confirms it. There have been many sweet moments over the years...

10. What is it that you love about taking ballet class? 

When I'm in class, there's no other place I'd rather be. I feel at home.

I get to make new discoveries, meet challenges, overcome fears and weaknesses. Ballet makes me feel strong, like I can handle anything.

I love having friends in class, they are part of my extended family. You get to meet so many amazing people through dance, and it's wonderful to share the same passion.

My teachers. Inspiring, motivating, demanding, patient and kind. Always pushing me, but also taking care of me. Love them. Past and present.

And then there's the beauty of it all... The artistry, the music, the quality of movement, the line, the elegance, colours, nuances... Reaching for these qualities is what motivates me. I want to find my own voice as a dancer.

The obligatory after-class selfie.

"You Should be Doing Triples"

"You should be doing triples." Just something one of my teachers said last Saturday, during pirouette exercises. Before that, I had managed a  few wobbly doubles and a couple of fairly neat singles. Okay, I was really tired (late Friday night), but that's not my excuse. The truth is, that after twenty years of ballet, I'm still working on turning consistently clean doubles. With pirouettes there's always so much going on, so much that can go wrong, and a whole lot of corrections that you can work on. Believe me, I've tried them all. The hardest part has been un-learning bad habits, like sickling the foot in passé retiré or jumping into the turn. That is why, if I were to give you one piece of advice, it would be this: quality must come first! Then, a deep plié and remember to breath! Oh, and it's perfectly fine to make a lot of mistakes. Believe me, I've done them all. It's also fun to keep trying, even after 20 years and counting.

Back to the "you should be doing triples." I'm not sure if I should be encouraged or embarrassed. Part of me feels like there was a test that I failed, and that I'm missing important ballet credentials because of it. A few years ago, I got a similar comment from another teacher: "You should know how to do fouettée pirouettes." It seemed odd to be graded in class, considering that we were all recreational dancers (some with more experience than others.) The thing is, it is quite rare to have adult ballet classes with a progressive curriculum all the way up to advanced levels. Even though adults can learn some things faster than children (and often have better focus), technique takes time and dedication. When I moved from basic-intermediate to intermediate and advanced levels, the gulf between those classes was such that I'm still trying to cross over! Fouettée pirouettes were done at the end of class, and you either knew what you did or you got out of the way. It did not bug me, I never expected to be in the same league with the ballet vets and semi-/pros. Even when another teacher introduced Fouettées 101, I did not catch up. I guess, you can't win them all.

I've never been embarrassed that my turns are not up to par (annoyed, yes). But I have sometimes felt dispirited by my lack of flexibility and range of movement. I used to dread split stretches in class. I hated being the only one who could not make contact with the floor. To me, the message was that I was not flexible enough for ballet (past beginner levels). It made me feel excluded from the rest of the class. Well, I've gotten over it. I stretch as far as I can, and I don't care if it looks less than ballet-ready. You can only work with your own body, not that of bendy-ballerina's next to you. Anyway, in the past three years I've actually gotten a lot more flexible! I can do a split with my left leg in front, I can stretch my legs into a semi-sidesplit and lie flat with my belly in between. Talon à la main? I can now lift my left leg up way past my shoulder. The stiffer right one is also coming nicely along. I still wish that I could be stretchy like a ballerina (who doesn't?), but I've stopped fixating on my weaknesses, or stiffnesses. I think having a positive mindset even helps with the stretching!

The comment my teacher made? I've decided to look at it as encouragement. Clearly, I must be doing something right. I have taken less than ten classes with this particular teacher (half of it last summer). He does not know my history, and has not seen my progress from adult beginner to adult passionate. I don't know what he sees when I dance, but I like to think it's something good.

Finally, some things you should be doing in class:

Knees over toes, always.
Breathing into the movement - it's good for you.
Mistakes. Because you're trying.
Pay attention to details. It's all in the details!
Keep your popo down and your head up.
Look where you're dancing.
Smile. You love to dance - don't keep it a secret. ;)

Wishing you all exciting learning experiences - keep dancing!
- Johanna

Time to Play

Pointe class. We're all facing the barre, doing really slow relevés. I let go as often as possible, because I like the added challenge of trying to stay in balance. Anyway, it's hard work and I'm totally focused, like there's nothing else in the world. My teacher approaches me to give a correction, or so I assume... Instead she tells me that I can now play with it, specifically with my head. I know she is talking about port de tête, or the carriage of the head, but I do not know what to do with mine during that particular exercise. Should I incline it, look left or right, or what? My sole focus has been on my feet, on keeping the popo in line, the back and neck long, the shoulders relaxed and myself breathing. It did not seem like playtime. But I did get the feeling that there has been some sort of achievement, and I was being challenged to step it up.

Later on, I got the feedback: there has indeed been progress. According to Madame, my dancing has improved. The port de bras is more confident, as is my overall technique. She even pointed out the alignment of the passé retiré I'm working on, telling me how much better it has become. I told her that I haven't really noticed. Which is not entirely true. I have noticed that my dancing feels different. Stronger, more balanced, perhaps even more fluid. But when you are not seeing yourself, how can you tell? Feeling good does not automatically mean that you also look good. Ballet can be tricky like that. Of course, there are some things which are more obvious. Like pirouettes. You cannot not know when you have turned three instead of one. You know when you're right on your axis, because it feels awesome. And you know when you've landed in style. Just as you know when you've failed. At my current rate, it's fifty-fifty. I get half right, and the other half is negotiable at best. Pirouettes tend to be a dealbraker for me. If I fail too many, class doesn't feel like progress. Yes, I know I'm giving way too much importance to turns. After all, our art is called ballet, not pirouette.

Then there are extensions. Why do we get caught up in degrees anyway? It might have something to do with all those sky-high extension you see posted and pinned on the internet. But bringing your leg into a developpé is dance, not a competition. It was already my first teacher who stressed the journey, not the destination. My current teacher speaks of caressing your (standing) leg as you bring the foot up. Then, raise the knee as high as possible (without compromising proper alignment), and draw a line with your pointed toes as you unfold your leg. The height of your extension is not the point, the quality of movement is. There's a bonus: quantity often follows quality. I've been told that my extensions have been getting higher since I started working with Madame. And this after dancing for twenty years! Funny how these things escape your attention...

So, what is next? We all know that ballet never gets easier, you just get better. For me, this means shifting my focus to the port de tête. My teacher knows that I get shy in class, which is why I tend to dance too much to the front, looking "flat" in the process. Now she is asking me to "play" with my head, and I have to admit that if feels more difficult than any fouetté pirouette I have ever attempted. At the same time, it's also way more exciting! Playing means there's room for self-expression, for making up my own mind (and head) about how I want to dance. Well, not in the sense that I get to change the exercises. I don't even want to do that! No, it's more subtle than that. Nuances and shades - that's what it is.

Now I just need to figure out what to do with my port de tête. I told Madame as much, that I don't really know (unless it's clearly part of the given exercise). She told me that if that's the case, I should just copy her. My dear readers, if you've ever seen our teacher dance, you know that is an near impossible task! Everything she does, looks natural and elegant. But I will try my best to absorb something and make it my own. I don't know what will come of it, but I want to find out. 

Twenty Years of Ballet

In January 1991, I took my first ballet class ever. It was love at first tendu. This month I'm celebrating my 20-year ballet anniversary. That is right, my math is not wrong. Not if I discount the three years when I did not dance at all. I wish I could undo the not-dancing, but at least I figured it out eventually. Ballet is where my heart is. I returned to class in 2006, and haven't looked back since. Except for today, when I went rummaging in my old calendars/diaries. This is what I wrote down in January 1994: "After class Jill (my teacher) asked me when I was going to get myself pointe shoes. I told her that I was too old to go on pointe." At the time, I was 24 years young. Can you believe it? It's a good thing that dance keeps you young, or in my case, progressively younger.

It's a cliche, but the years do fly by. Life rarely goes as planned (another cliche, sorry). This is why I've always appreciated the time-honored tradition of ballet. Over the years, the steps and positions have become familiar, the French understandable, the movement ingrained in both body and mind. Yet, there's always change. For me, this is probably the best part of learning and dancing ballet. As long as I keep an open mind and never settle for less than my full potential, I keep moving on. That first class was my point of departure, and I've been dancing without a destination ever since. I like to think that I'm always halfway there. Because as an adult dancer, class itself is the beginning and end. For professional dancers, it's all about the performance, dancing on stage in front of a real audience. For us, it's mostly an imaginary audience behind the class mirror. We love to do the hard work, but it's not payed work. Unless you count joy as the ultimate reward. I'm pretty sure that most of us adult dancers do just that. We dance because dance brings us joy.

Another reason why I never lost my love for dance: awesome teachers. I will skip the math on this one, but I do remember them all. Your first ballet teacher you never forget. If you are lucky, she's the one who will instill a love and respect for the art. Jill Miller gave me a solid foundation to build on, and an understanding of how placement works. It was not the Vaganova-school that is so common here in Finland, but it was very safe on untrained adult joints and limbs. I loved her classes, the way she phrased the exercises to music, and the challenges she threw at us. "Move! Dance!" We were told to use the whole space, and not to hold back. "Don't dance like you have a stick up your butt!" Or, somewhat more eloquent: "Be organic in your movement." She was one of a kind. Strict, but caring. I'm happy that I got back to ballet and Jill's classes before her untimely death in 2007.

You do not necessarily have to like your teacher, as long as you learn and enjoy the dancing. However, sometimes it can happen that the class just does not feel right, which has happened to me on occasion. It can be a simple matter of chemistry, or the lack thereof. I still took the classes, learned the steps and worked on my technique. But in the long run, the physical work alone is not enough. Like I wrote earlier, we are in it for the joy. If you enter class with a positive attitude, energy and focus, you should leave class feeling like a million bucks. Sweaty, energized and happy. Of course we all have bad days, certain insecurities and flaws... Nobody can be a perfect student all the time.

I also take classes where there's almost no interaction between a student and teacher. You know, some teachers give a short warm-up barre and a dancey center, but hardly any personal feedback. That's okay, especially when you get plenty of corrections elsewhere. In those classes, I often think less about technique and focus on the dancing alone. Over the past 20 years, I've learned that both ways work for me, as long as one outweighs the other. In any case, variety in school and style is a wonderful thing. You get fresh perspectives, familiar corrections are rephrased (= eureka!), and you get to work on new exercises and enchaînements.

I have learned from every teacher I've ever had. Some focus more on pirouettes, others have awesome petit allegro or a very lyrical adagio. There's been Vaganova, French School, Checcetti, RAD, Balanchine and Bournonville, and a mix of schools, styles and teachers' personal experiences. Some have been wonderful, some a little scary, others easy-going and very nice. Most have been motivating, even inspiring. All have been professional, skilled and knowledgeable. Many have been very important to me. Still are. 

When I'm in class, I need to feel both challenged but also safe to make mistakes. I like to be pushed, but preferably in a positive and encouraging manner. I like to get feedback, lots of corrections and guidance. Some praise is nice too. I was already lucky when I started classes with Jill. I can't think of a better teacher for that time in my life. I'm even more fortunate now. Since I started taking class with my current teacher, Marie-Pierre Greve, so much has changed. Ballet feels like a new experience, yet again. I love Madame's elegant and beautiful dancing, her generous and attentive style of teaching, her keen eye for the tiniest of detail (which can make a huge difference), the emphasis on quality and artistry, the positive and encouraging class atmosphere, the real work we do and the fun we have in class. It's pure and undiluted ballet joy!

Where ballet is concerned, I consider myself a very lucky person. Between that first class and the latest one, there has been a lot of dancing: thousands and thousands of classes. So many wonderful and memorable experiences. Sure, there have also been injuries and struggles and breaks. But for the most part, it's been all good. Amazing, in fact. I would not trade this experience for anything.

Ballet anniversaries are best celebrated with pink champagne!

Good Morning Class!

Tomorrow is the first morning class of 2014 - and I gotta tell you that days have been counted. I love all my classes, but mornings are my favorites. There's just no better way to begin the day! Hand on barre, breathing into the music, elongating limbs, balancing body and mind, pirouetting and jetéing across the floor, feeling alive... It's all that and so much more. I love getting corrections (and praise) first thing in the morning. I love that the first people I communicate with are ballet people. Even when I'm so tired that I should bring a coffee thermos instead of a water bottle. Hmm... There's an idea! Speaking of tired, it's almost bedtime. One of my resolutions for this year is to sleep more (and to dance better). So, my ballet bag is packed, flatties have been washed, new favorite leos bought, the alarm set, and I am as ready as can be. Bring it on! 

Happy New Ballet Year!

Dear Readers and Fellow Dancers,

You may have noticed that my blog updates have been somewhat sparse all year. It's the usual adult dancer's combo of work, duty, and dance - and then being too tired/busy to write about it. It has been a great year though. Lots of wonderful discoveries, awesome classes, real progress and the ballet bliss we all love so much. I promise to give you a decent recap, as soon as I recover from the New Year's festivities. There are currently eight unfinished posts in my box, but the ones I'm really itching to finish next are: "Best of Ballet 2013" and "Seeing Myself in Class, on Video, and What Happened Next"(working title). I might still write a "Dance Resolutions for the New Year," as is tradition. But I really have no resolutions, or new promises to make. All I need is class time with my favorite teacher(s), and I'm set. Ballet work is what I love to do.

I wish you the same, lots of amazing classes. Mistakes that lead into new discoveries and progress. Moments when everything comes together. Balances that last forever. Flying grand jetés. Being the boss of your pirouettes. Keep dreaming and believe in yourself!

- Johanna

She's Got Legs

I got some very interesting feedback today. We were in the midst of a fondue exercise facing the barre, when my teacher came over. She told me that the shape of my legs has changed... From the tone of her voice (pleased) and the smile on her face, I figured that this was a good thing. She said that it was because of the work I've been doing. I know that my technique has improved in the past year, and I can feel a difference - but I can't really see it. I mean, I see that my feet are more stretched and pointed and my heels more often forwarded than not... But this is action, not appearance.

I've always had very muscular legs, more sporty than ballerina. And I have to admit that I've looked at some of my fellow dancers' slim and long legs with a bit of envy. When I do, I try to remember that mine work pretty well. I would not want to give up my bounce in exchange for mere ballerina looks. Anyway, my legs match the rest of my body. Still... I did not think it possible that they could look any different, not after dancing for twenty years. And guys, I'm not talking diets. Sure, I could skip my treats (chocolate + cookies), and loose a few pounds - but my face gets too skinny before my body gets just "right".  So I rather have a little extra padding. That's all on that topic.

When I got home today and changed into my comfortable sweats, I could not help but check myself out in the mirror. I still see the same: strong legs and slightly out-of-shape thighs. However, when I stretch, turn out and point, they do look like dancer legs. Not ballerina-slim and hyper-extended, but athletic and shaped by ballet. And that's pretty damn awesome.

Summer 2012, which would make this photo the "before-picture". I really should take some new.. ;)

Lesson Learned

It happened two weeks ago. We were doing this beautiful and rather challenging adagio in center, to the left side, leg up and in grand ronde de jambe... When I kind of lost my focus, my control and my balance. Normally, it's not a big deal. We're not machines, mistakes happen, and it's all part of the dance, right? But that time, I got this sinking feeling... And with it my confidence flew out of the studio. It's a hole I've been in before, and one that's damned hard to climb out again. Even though I recognized the feeling and knew that I should have axed it right there and then, I could not. But why? I had been counting the hours to be in that class again, it was my day off and Madame was teaching. It should have been ballet bliss, because usually, it always is.

What I had not taken into account: I was exhausted from a long eight-day working week, which included a four day expo out of town. After working weekends, you normally get a day off, but I was in the office on Monday - but not before an early morning root canal appointment. Torture. The next day, I dragged myself out of bed, because the mind is stronger than the body, and went to morning class. Noticed that my left foot was a bit painful around the peroneal tendon, but not so bad as to stop. The following day, while sliding my other foot to the back, I pinched a nerve right at the base of the big toe. It felt like going over a cheese grater. Oh, and to top it all off, I've been having another bout of positional vertigo. When I tilt my head to the right (like you would in a cambré), the room goes spinning for three seconds or so. It's all very annoying - but there are really no excuses. Either you stay home, or you work to the best of your abilities. What you do not do is give up.

I lost my confidence. Somehow I came to the conclusion that I suck. We have all been there, we even make jokes about it - because bad days happen to everyone. Sh*t happens. When I should have kicked myself into the butt and focused on class alone, I was giving myself a hard time instead. Even though I was still getting corrections. Praise too. The next day I thought, let's have a fresh start - but I kept falling back into my hole. One bad day turned into a bad week, and I knew that I was heading for trouble. That's when my teacher stepped in; it was time for an intervention. I'm very lucky that way. She knows me well enough, and told me exactly what I needed to hear. It was a private conversation, so no details here, but I will tell you that it was firm and kind. It lifted the fog off my brain. Not all at once, but I made the extra effort. I've been feeling my normal self since. Happy to be in class, no matter what.

Here's what I've learned: If you are walking-dead tired but still long to be in class, go easy on yourself. If you are achy, sore or are suffering from minor ailments, and still feel you have to be in class: don't push it. Don't expect to be your usual strong/balanced/good at turns or whatever it is you're usually good at. Do not compare yourself to the girls with the highest extensions or most flexible bodies, or whatever it is you don't possess. Remember that we are each unique. Appreciate all that you can do. Listen to your body. Breath. Most of all: be kind to yourself.

I have this one teacher who has a very special talent of creating a happy class environment. When Madame makes her rounds along the barre, every student gets positive feedback, a "good" here, a "bien" or "beautiful" there. Madame is also very demanding, and gives a great deal of personal and detailed corrections. Guidance too. She really sees everything that you do, and everything that you could be doing. I swear she has some kind of sixth sense. Maybe even x-ray vision. Seriously, I love her classes. I feel that she not only sees the present me, but also the dancer that I'm capable of being... Which made me think. Why be so damn hard on myself, when my teacher is so kind and positively encouraging? In the end, we can only dance with our own bodies - and we should not let doubtful minds get in the way. Believe in yourself. Know that you can.


Painting above by Katya Gridneva, 1965.

Shy Swan

This week, we have been working on this beautiful center adagio... It begins with a developpé to the front, then through first into arabesque plié, then developpé ecarté, followed by attitude promenade, into arabesque allongé. It's simple enough, though hardly easy. As if ballet is ever easy... But the real challenge comes with the port de bras. Swan arms! When my teacher demonstrated, it was as if Odette had come alive... No artifice, no cliches - but a fleeting moment of heart-stopping beauty. Feminine, fragile yet strong at the same time. Then it was our turn. "I want to see different swans... Be beautiful, make me enjoy it." At this point, [insert panic] and enter ugly duckling.

I can handle the basic second, third or fifth port de bras just fine - it's what I've been practicing since 1991. You learn the technique, and then it becomes your comfort zone. If you're a shy dancer/person like myself, it's a safe place to be. I can hide behind technique. Why? Partly, because ballet is such an unforgiving art form... A great joy to learn and to experience, but hard. Every flaw and mistake is immediately visible. Every bad day is on display for others to see. Sometimes, it feels like you're naked. But you cannot be an artist without daring to be vulnerable. Yes, I wrote "artist" - even though I'm just your average middle-aged late-starter recreational ballet dancer.

When our teacher told us to be "swans", my immediate thought was: I don't know how to be a swan, I will look silly trying to be one, which arm goes first and how did she make it look so beautiful, and what if I totally suck, and where can I hide... Lots of thoughts, even before the first move. But I gave it a try, duckling-style, and it was not so scary. Next time, Madame gave us a more detailed demonstration of the arms, and I tried to copy it as well as I could. Even though she said that the port de bras could be a little different for each of us. However, "different" means revealing yourself, showing your interpretation of the movement, your style (or lack thereof) - and I was not ready.

I'm still not 100% out there. But my confidence is growing. During the summer, I had more opportunities to "colour" my dancing, and to "play" with my port de bras - and it felt so right. After a lot of square & academic dancing, it was even liberating. Then, one of my summer teachers gave me unexpected and positive feedback, which made me very happy. I was doing my own thing (without changing the exercises of course) - and it turned out to be a good thing!

Now, it feels like everything is new again. I have a dream ballet schedule, I get to work with my favorite teacher on three days instead of one, and I have another awesome class on Sundays (with various teachers). There is still strong emphasis on clean technique, but I've been getting a lot more feedback on expressing myself. How to use my head and eyes, how to breathe into the movement, how to make it look interesting... How to dance, really. It's been an amazing experience. This duckling might yet grow into a swan.

Pointe(less)

I still haven't sewn on ribbons, but the elastic works well without. The shoes are Bloch Jetstreams, a pair I reinstated out of storage. Should really write a post about that. In short: I bought them too small, but recently figured out that I don't need ouchpouches. Tape on one toe and bunion area is enough. 

I haven't had a proper pointe class since May. To be precise, it was my last class with Madame, right before our spring show. During the summer schedule, my school does not offer pointe technique, probably because attendance would be too irregular. The only option is to take regular class on pointe, provided you're an advanced student or get permission from the teacher. I did just that, but it didn't work out as well as in previous summers. For one thing, the "easiest" level I'm able to attend is basic-intermediate - which is fine at the barre, but a challenge in center. Usually, I don't mind challenges, but the class is packed, and I don't like to feel crowded or rushed when I'm up on pointe. It makes me nervous. Another drawback: no pointe exercises at the barre. Last year, our teacher would give a few basic relevés and piqués (which benefit all students), but no such extras this summer. I modified the barre as much as I could, but... There were hardly pointe-specific corrections either, except once or twice. My teacher (not Madame) told me that with this many students (over twenty), it just isn't possible for her to look at my pointe technique. At least she didn't tell me to leave my shoes at home, which means that she trusts me to handle myself in a safe manner. So there's that. But, what's a grown-up dancer to do when she wants to progress on pointe, and there is none?

First, let's forget about progress for a while. Wearing the shoes in a regular class is work-out enough, even standing flat. There's a lot more resistance to simple degagés, and try standing in arabesque in center.. Controlling the wobble is a challenge! The first four weeks of our current 12-week summer schedule, I did a self-modified barre (fondues facing the barre), and switched into flatties after the first center exercise. Once, I tried to do a full class on pointe, but it got too frustrating. I have only three weekly classes and I do not want to waste one tripping over myself. Be as it may, doing something is better than doing nothing, even though most of my fellow students don't seem to mind the three-month break. I guess I'm a bit ballet-crazy like that. But you already knew that.

I have also been doing something you are not supposed to do. That is, I have been my own ballet teacher, practicing pointe by myself. I like doing pointe when my body is properly warmed up, especially my feet and ankles. My classes are last, and depending on the day, we have half an hour or longer before they throw us out. This gives me enough time for basic exercises, the kind I'm most familiar with - and the sort where I've been getting so many corrections, that I know what problems to look out for. Of course, it is not the same as working with an expert teacher. It never is.

Microfoam tape (above: Gaynor Minden Toe Tape) is slightly padded, and does not leave a sticky residue. It works great if your shoes are very snug, and cannot fit ouch pouches. Downside: it doesn't stay put when you sweat a lot.  Apply on dry feet only! Here, I used another tape to secure it at the big toe. The shoe's box/vamp holds the other end in place. Bonus: you can use the tape more than once (it's not that cheap). The pink arrows point to my ouch spots. 

In case you're interested, here's what I do: I start with demi pliés, rising onto demi pointe then stretching to full pointe, then lowering myself back, through the highest demi pointe possible. The same in reverse, and repeated in seconde. On full pointe, I add a plié, really pushing over the boxes and trying to retain that arch when I straighten again. I take care no to loose my turnout and not to stick my popo out. I then do the same relevés, but going up without pliés. Again, more relevés but this time with pliés and quicker. Then, rises on one leg and passé retirés. I've also been doing fondues and ballonés, but skip the harder stuff (like echappés). I have, however, compromised on my alignment: in class we are not supposed to look down at our feet (when practicing at the barre), because it changes your placement and line. But when you have only the mirror to rely on, it can't really be helped. I don't trust my sense of proper pointe placement that much yet.

And I do have quite a few pointe problems. My right knee still does not stretch and straighten properly. Either it's too slow, or too lazy. I know it has something to do with my leg length discrepancy (the right one is functionally longer), but mostly it just needs more awareness and more work. My right foot also has less of an arch and needs more pushing to get over the box. Second position is the worst, because I don't have a lot of turnout - and keeping those heels forward and feet pointed is Real Work! I think that in the three years I've worked on my pointe technique, this remains the biggest challenge.

Long post short, is there a point to my pointe endeavor? Yes, I think so. It has actually been fun. In addition to a mini barre, I've been doing piqué turns in center, as well as single pirouettes. Together with a friend, I've worked on relevés in attitude (holding on to my friend's arm, as in a pas de deux). Nothing we haven't done before, mind you. I'm not about to take any stupid risks or teach myself bad habits. I keep it simple, focus on my alignment, feel every muscle work and try to apply every correction I have ever received (and there have been plenty).  Do I recommend solo pointe work to everyone? No, I do not. Certainly not if you're still a beginner. Intermediate students: you might want to talk to your teacher about your options. I really miss taking pointe classes with Madame (she's back later in August), and being my own teacher is a poor substitute...  But it has been another learning experience. And that is not pointless at all.

A Paler Shade of Pink

Peachy or a paler shade of pink? Depends on the light and skin tone underneath. Both feet pictured are mine.

When it comes down to legwear for ballet class, I prefer black leggings over pink tights. Black feels more grown-up, post-grad, individual, even slightly rebellious. Although I never went to a ballet school that required pink tights, so I'm hardly expressing a new-found freedom. Mostly I prefer black because I feel less exposed, as opposed to the overexposure of pale pinkness. And it's no secret that black is slimming. You don't really see women wearing almost white opaque hosiery outside of ballet, do you?

Having said that, pink ballet tights are not without advantages. For one, you see more. Muscle tone becomes more visible, and it's easier to correct and maintain proper alignment. You become more aware of your placement. That is why I do wear pink from time to time. Usually, I add black long shorts and a longish black skirt on top. Like I said before, I don't like to look/feel too bare in class. But a couple of weeks ago, I took the plunge. For the duration of barre, I skipped the skirt and extra layers, wearing only my leo, short shorts and those pink tights. Guess what? It wasn't half as bad as I feared. Sure, at first I felt self-conscious. I wish my bottom half would have a more ballerina-esque look. But I worked the pink tights to my advantage. I pulled up, lengthened, stretched, pointed and presented my feet to their max. The unbroken line of ballet pink tights and shoes made my lines look longer. And pretty good, if I may say so.

Practicing my passé retirés (front to back) for the show.
Wearing Danskin tights.

The last time I had worn pink, was for our spring show. I had been gifted a pair of Danskin's "Style 32 Backseam Footed Tights," in a semi-opaque ballet pink. I was told that they look very flattering under stage lights. The weave is such that it lets more of your own skin tone through, and they did make my legs look nicely defined. The backseam was a bit tricky though, I had to make sure it was in a straight line. The waist goes up very high, right under my boobs, and the waistband felt a bit constricting. But it worked well under the thick fabric of my tutu's bodice. So, all in all, a good choice for the stage.

Fresh out of the package. The ribbons, by the way, are still waiting to be sewn. 

My current pair of tights is from Gaynor Minden. I was in fact contacted by one of GM's distributors in Europe, Dancemania, and asked if I would like to try and review some of their Gaynor Minden products. Would I ever! Trying out dance stuff has to be one of my favorite jobs! I made sure that they were looking for an honest review, and then chose some products for my first goody bag ever. So, the tights. They are called Adult Convertible, and are made up of 85% nylon (70 den microfiber) and 15% spandex. I checked the sizing from their chart, and size medium was a perfect fit for me. The waistband could be a bit wider and softer, but I suspect that ballet tights are not made with the average woman in mind. After the first wash, I stretched it out some, and now it fits more comfortably. I have worn and hand-washed the tights for about two weeks now (seven or eight classes), and so far, no snags or runs. The colour is as peachy pink as my Bloch pointe shoes, but pales when you put them on. They are quite opaque (70 den), but I like that they feel a bit more supportive than my usual leggings. The best feature is the convertible opening under the foot. Compared to my Bloch tights, the finish is done with much better attention to durability. At first, I thought the opening was too small and would snag when I rolled it up from under my toes, but it stretched well enough.

After two weeks of wash & wear, the color is a bit paler. But I've never met or seen a pair that doesn't turn from ballet pink to ballet grey, at some point(e). I know you're wondering about the pointe shoes with just the elastics on..
But more about that in a later post!

I have to admit that being asked to test-dance the GM tights gave me the push I needed to step out of my ubiquitous black leggings. I'm not going to ditch them forever (I always have a spare in my bag), but I am going to get more mileage out of my pink ballerina tights. I'm beginning to like how they look on my legs.