This essay is so damn good, Martha!! Can't help sharing that it's been an emotional ballet season for me. I just saw my still-beloved classic NYC Ballet Nutcracker and then saw my granddaughter Eva with one of the youngest dancer-cohorts in the very non-traditional Berkeley Ballet Theater 'Nutcracker Bird.' And now I'm contemplating getting back into class myself at an arthritic age 73. Am I completely crazy!? I love picturing you in the wings of The Joyce handing Misha his towel!
"At the barre we are chopping wood and carrying water, no reward for our efforts in sight, just a daily reminder of imperfection and failure in the quest for transcendence." goddamn, Martha
There’s something about ballet - wordless storytelling - the musical rush- (just saw the Balanchine version with your mom and sister) (I think I prefer the Sendak one) in spite of its incorrectness it’s like appreciating the Old Masters in painting - and I get your point…
So much of what you write about your relationship to ballet mirrors how I feel about horseback riding--a physical activity with privilege and class connotations that made me walk away from it in my late teens and early 20's, but that I've returned to and find a deep and comforting connection to my younger self, as well as an acceptance (most days) of limitations that would have mortified my 15 year old self... bittersweet and complicated!
The class privilege of ballet -- at least back then, maybe less so now? -- was definitely one of the things that made me turn away. At that age I would have done anything for a little street cred.
I traveled from Chicago to NY to watch my granddaughter, Charlotte, age 11, as one of Clara's friends in the Cobble Hill (Brooklyn) ballet production of the NETCRACKER. Your post resonated with me, although i loved the performance and think Cobble Hill's school and its NUTCRACKER do so many things right. It was a magical day for me and for Charlotte. I took ballet as a little girl; my mother's idea. I was a tomboy and i hated every aspect of ballet, particularly the teacher who walked among the girls, stick in hand, hitting them on the butts and lecturing, "Keep your peachies in." My mother, to her credit, allowed me to quit.
This essay is so damn good, Martha!! Can't help sharing that it's been an emotional ballet season for me. I just saw my still-beloved classic NYC Ballet Nutcracker and then saw my granddaughter Eva with one of the youngest dancer-cohorts in the very non-traditional Berkeley Ballet Theater 'Nutcracker Bird.' And now I'm contemplating getting back into class myself at an arthritic age 73. Am I completely crazy!? I love picturing you in the wings of The Joyce handing Misha his towel!
Do It! Go to class! It’s really good for the joints :). And omg, do you remember that benefit? It remains very vivid in my mind. What a sweetheart.
"At the barre we are chopping wood and carrying water, no reward for our efforts in sight, just a daily reminder of imperfection and failure in the quest for transcendence." goddamn, Martha
There’s something about ballet - wordless storytelling - the musical rush- (just saw the Balanchine version with your mom and sister) (I think I prefer the Sendak one) in spite of its incorrectness it’s like appreciating the Old Masters in painting - and I get your point…
I prefer the Sendak one as well! It's so great. I have to assume the costumes were falling apart or something, because why mess with a good thing?
So much of what you write about your relationship to ballet mirrors how I feel about horseback riding--a physical activity with privilege and class connotations that made me walk away from it in my late teens and early 20's, but that I've returned to and find a deep and comforting connection to my younger self, as well as an acceptance (most days) of limitations that would have mortified my 15 year old self... bittersweet and complicated!
The class privilege of ballet -- at least back then, maybe less so now? -- was definitely one of the things that made me turn away. At that age I would have done anything for a little street cred.
I traveled from Chicago to NY to watch my granddaughter, Charlotte, age 11, as one of Clara's friends in the Cobble Hill (Brooklyn) ballet production of the NETCRACKER. Your post resonated with me, although i loved the performance and think Cobble Hill's school and its NUTCRACKER do so many things right. It was a magical day for me and for Charlotte. I took ballet as a little girl; my mother's idea. I was a tomboy and i hated every aspect of ballet, particularly the teacher who walked among the girls, stick in hand, hitting them on the butts and lecturing, "Keep your peachies in." My mother, to her credit, allowed me to quit.
That’s a top five subtitle for sure. And essay.
I mean, it's kind of a gimme. But I am working hard on my subheads!