On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet
To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet!
Thank you, Lord Byron, for the introduction. Let’s talk about ballet.
* * *
Many of us may remember when our parents, likely our mothers, took us to our first ballet. Naomi Shihab Nye has written a charming poem about the experience. It’s called “Boy and Mom at the Nutcracker Ballet.”
There’s no talking in this movie.
It’s not a movie! Just watch the dancers.
They tell the story through their dancing.
Why is the nutcracker mean?
I think because the little boy broke him.
Did the little boy mean to?
Probably not.
Why did the nutcracker stab his sword through the mouse king?
I liked the mouse king.
So did I. I don’t know. I wish that part wasn’t in it.
You can see that girl’s underpants.
No, not underpants. It’s a costume called a “tutu” — same word as “grandmother” in Hawaiian.
Are those real gems on their costumes?
Do they get to keep them?
Is that really snow coming down?
No, it can’t be, it would melt and their feet get wet.
I think it’s white paper.
Aren’t they beautiful?
They are very beautiful. But what do the dancers do when we can’t see them, when they’re off the stage and they’re not dancing?
Do you have any more pistachios in your purse?
* * *
Ballet has a bundle of descriptive terms and descriptions, most of them in French. Denise Levertov, who had ballerina aspirations, remembers and cherishes all of them in a poem called “Dance Memories.”
Plié, the knees bend,
a frog flexing to spring;
grand battement the taut leg
flails as if to beat
chaff from the wheat;
Attitude, Hermes brings
ambiguous messages
and moves dream-smoothly
yet with hidden strain
that breaks in sweat,
Into arabesque that traces
swan-lines on vision’s stone
that the dancer, not seeing
herself, feels in the bone.
Coupé, the air is cut
out from under the foot,
grand jeté, glissade, grand jeté, glissade,
the joy of leaping, of moving by
leaps and bounds, of gliding
to leap, and gliding.
to leap becomes, while it lasts,
heart pounding, breath hurting,
the deepest, the only joy.
* * *
* * *
No less than Emily Dickinson, in a gleeful mood, imagined what it would be like to be a famous ballerina.
I cannot dance upon my Toes —
No Man instructed me —
But oftentimes, among my mind,
A Glee possesseth me,
That had I Ballet knowledge —
Would put itself abroad
In Pirouette to blanch a Troupe —
Or lay a Prima, mad,
And though I had no Gown of Gauze —
No Ringlet, to my Hair,
Nor hopped to Audiences — like Birds,
One Claw upon the Air,
Nor tossed my shape in Eider Balls,
Nor rolled on wheels of snow
Till I was out of sight, in sound,
The House encore me so —
Nor any know I know the Art
I mention — easy — Here —
Nor any Placard boast me —
It’s full as Opera —
* * *
Poets have long been drawn to ballet, and not surprisingly, they write about their favorite dancers and ballet companies. And universally they find a kinship with Nature.
When the white feet of dancers beat across the stage
the sound is like the wings of birds at dawn, fluttering,
and when the feathery light bodies rise en pointe, spinning
like the wind across a lake, the sight is romance, uttering.
* * *
Referencing the great companies of today, they are, in whatever order you please, the Paris Opera (Garnier) Ballet in France, the Bolshoi and Mariinsky companies in Russia, the Royal Ballet in England, the New York City Ballet and American Ballet Theatre in New York. For poet Kenneth Koch, the NYCB company had no equals in the days of legendary choreographer George Balanchine.
Oh dancers of New York, arranged by Balanchine,
You are more beautiful than groves of evergreen!
You have aesthetic distance, like the blue-white sea
Outside the porthole–Agon or Symphony in C!
And how the image lasts, with houselights going on,
Of the prince standing gazing at the disappearing swan!
Is it Odette? Was it Odile? The two are so the same,
But every smile or gesture seems to give away the game.
There’s only one who brings this honest beating of the heart:
George Balanchine! Of all the kings of choreographic art,
Great Balanchine, who lifts us, with his dancers in the air
As if there were no stage at all, to tell his stories there.
* * *
* * *
And how does it feel to be a ballerina? Very special, even just in the warming up process. This poem is by Laura Rogers. It’s called “Dancing Home.”
I put on my pointe shoes
and tied the ribbons around my ankles.
The well-known pressure formed around my toes
as I stood and adjusted my skirt.
Moving towards the bar, the box of my shoes
made a familiar tapping sound
on the mahogany dance floor.
I placed my hand on the smooth, curved wood
of the practice bar, and I was home.
I relevéd, and the stretch in my calves
brought on a rush of adrenalin.
I couped. frappéd, pas de bourréed.
I danced.
Stretching my arms over my head in fifth position,
I let my fingers form into the soft graceful hand
of a ballerina.
I walked into the middle of the room
and faced the mirror that was so often
my audience.
I prepped for a pirouette and then pushed off.
When I turn I am a whirlwind,
and I sweep away the negative thoughts
of the outside world.
When I leap I fly and leave everything below me.
When I am en pointe I am a giant
and nobod can touch me.
I am a ballerina,
And this is what I do,
For this is who I am.
* * *
* * *
Most of us would be unfit as participants in a ballet, but we can dance in our imaginations. W.H. Auden offers this advice.
The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews,
Not to be born is the best for man;
The second-best is a formal order,
The dance’s pattern, dance while you can.
Dance, dance, for the figure is easy,
The tune is catching and will not stop;
Dance till the stars come down with the rafters;
Dance, dance, dance till you drop.
* * *
VIDEO. Our video has three dance presentations. The first is hosted by Prima Ballerina Ashley Bouder who retired two weeks ago after twenty five years of dancing with New York City Ballet. She comments on how George Balanchine choreographed his first great ballet, “Serenade.”
The second requires some explanation. Closely related to ballet is Adagio Dancing. Performed by a couple, it specializes in high overhead lifts and synchronized movement. Danced here by Marina Perry and Timothy Miano whose performance won them the National Championship of the television series “Star Search.”
Our third presentation is the finale of the legendary ballet “Coppelia,” as danced by the Bolshoi Ballet. The star ballerina, now with the Royal Ballet and considered the world’s finest, is Natalia Osipova, and her partner is Vyacheslav Lopatin. Apropos of little-known-dance-centers, the last time Osipova visited America, she dropped by our house and danced in our kitchen.
CLICK ON THIS LINK FOR VIDEO: ON WITH THE DANCE
