Class

I regularly blog about performances and special classes, however perhaps I have overlooked the beauty of a regular class. To dancers, a daily class is vital; to keep our bodies supple and agile, but also for the joy of dance. I do find it frustrating that at least five hours a day during the week I am expected to attend academic school; I walk to school listening to ballet music, visualising the enchainements, and as such, feel very stifled when I have to endure a lesson on poetry, when I just want to dance! But in the evening, when I take class, it feels as if my day is just beginning.

 I particularly enjoy Thursdays; I have an hour and a half of pointework, followed by an hour of Intermediate ballet, and a further hour and a half, of Advanced 2 ballet. I love how, in the space of four hours, I explore every aspect of classical technique, from the simple beauty of single pirouettes en pointe, to the new, challenging steps such as gargouillades and double pirouettes in attitude or arabesque. Even though a full day of school followed by 4 hours of ballet can be tiring, being in class is the time at which I feel most alive; I have done the Intermediate class for a few years so I know every intricate detail of the syllabus, yet the class is far from boring, there is always a new nuance to find in the music, or a different dynamic to the steps. In contrast, the Advanced 2 syllabus is still quite unfamiliar, yet it feels amazing to dance.

One of my other classes, is the Classical Award 2 IDTA syllabus. In my private lesson on Tuesday, my teacher spoke to me about that class; she said that since I joined, the other girls have paid more attention, she thinks they envy me, they are working harder because they admire my dedication and ability in dance. I felt surprised yet completely honoured to hear that, it is the most incredible thing to know that I have inspired people, that they watch my work in class and it makes them want to work harder.

Its hard to explain to a non-dancer why we dance, why we consistently work, why every atom of our refined, graceful physique longs for that surreal moment, when we can do what makes us happy in the way that nothing else can. There’s just something incredible about how when music and movement reach their perfect fusion, and the body is challenged yet comforted by the movements. Perhaps only dancers will understand; the feeling that I am trying to describe is that of the exhilaration in double pique turns, the perfect second of poised stillness as an arabesque penche reaches its peak, even the long-awaited catharsis, the sense of relief and release to be dancing, that comes with an exercise as simple, as ritualised, as plies at the barre. I suppose that as I have grown older, I have learnt that it isn’t just performances that are special; every class is a unique phenomena, we are given the gift of knowledge and skill, to refine our art, to achieve and accomplish, and that is a gift for which I am so grateful.