Hot and Sticky

I'm hot, but it's the floor that's sticky. The second year pointe class has been rehearsing in the studio just before the evening adult classes, and the floor is so sticky with rosin that walking in slippers sounds like each of us has double-sided tape stuck to our feet. And that's *after* they washed the floor late last night — I'm told last night's adult class opted not to attempt any turns, chassés, or other sliding movements. We did only a couple step-over piqué turns. Not really a great night by most measures.

Everyone has something they do well

Despite this being nominally a beginner class, our class has gotten progressively more difficult. Mostly it's the irregularity in patterns, such as a tendu exercise that starts conventionally with four tendu devant, four tendu a la seconde, but then continues with tendu devant, tendu seconde closing in back, coupé closing in front, tendu devant, tendu seconde closing in back, coupé closing in front, tendu devant, tendu seconde closing in back. Then, of course, the whole exercise is repeated derrière. Although the overall timing of the exercise fits a four-count, the shift from a regular four to a three-three-two, and the speed with which we're doing it, a lot of the students have trouble with it. I can do it as long as I don't think while I do it; thinking about either the sequence or anything else will cause me to blow it.

We had enough time to do grande allegro at the end of class today, something we sometimes don't get to. Sauté arabesque, brush though to a chassé en avant, and repeat to the other side. A third sauté arabesque to the first side, but then a chassé en arriere, turn and brush to an assemblé en tournant. This last step confused most in the class, so the instructor demonstrated a couple of times.

For those who aren't familiar with this step, here's a short video (not me!):



I think I've done this one before because it felt pretty comfortable right off the bat, though I wasn't getting quite all the way around to where we were supposed to end up facing. Like everyone else I tried it a couple more times before we did the combination, and heard a couple of the women behind me mutter, "Showoff!"  When I turned to look, the they were grinning madly. One came up and offered a fist-bump. After class, she came up to me and told me she thought my jumps were "just amazing."

Ok, I'll admit I have difficulty accepting compliments. I'm delighted by being able to do a step like this with basic competence. But "amazing"? Naah. Maybe after I win the lottery and can spend 4-5 days a week in the studio...

Review of "Dancing On My Grave"

I finished reading Gelsey Kirkland's first autobiography, Dancing On My Grave. I probably wouldn't have enjoyed it when I was younger, but I found it fascinating. Written at the end of a self-imposed two year hiatus from dance to break herself of a serious addiction to cocaine and Valium, the tone of the book is bitter, almost vicious at times. She is critical of almost everyone she mentions, and she doesn't spare herself. She comes across as very serious about her craft, to the point of being difficult to work with. Like many brilliant people, she exhibits some characteristics more recently attributed to autism, including the inability to understand social cues that everyone else seems to understand.

An amusing personal note: There was one point in the book where Kirkland talks about preparing for a performance at Goucher College near Baltimore. At the time, March, 1981, I lived quite near there and my then-girlfriend was taking classes with a nearby professional ballet company. I found myself thinking back 32 years, trying to remember if this was something we'd talked about attending. On the next page, however, Kirkland reveals that she blew off that performance due to her drug addiction. I guess we didn't miss a chance to see her after all.

The book ends on a hopeful note, though, with Kirkland and her newly wed husband and co-author, Greg Lawrence, kicking their drug addictions and looking forward to their future together.

Of course the story doesn't end here. Kirkland went on to write another autobiography, The Shape of Love, again with Lawrence as co-author. Published in 1990, it seems this book is not as popular as her first, as the library copy I have is almost pristine. I'll post a review of it when I finish it.

Paging Dr. Morton

In 1927, Dr. Dudley Joy Morton described a syndrome where the first metatarsal is shorter than the second. Also known as a "Greek foot", the most obvious indication is that the second toe is longer than the first. Ballet dancers often hear the term "Morton's Toe" when they're fitted for pointe shoes, as it presents a problem distributing weight within the toe box.

It seems I have a slight case of this. Men rarely dance en pointe, but there are some other effects. One is that more of the weight is carried on the head of the second metatarsal rather than the first, which reduces lateral stability of the foot. This happens both flat and in demi-pointe.

Much like putting a shim under the leg of an unstable table, there are shoe inserts available that add a bit of thickness under the head of the first metatarsal (the "ball" of the foot). The suggestion I've received is to put a few layers of moleskin in my slippers at that point. I tried that last night, sticking one layer to my foot rather than the inside of the slipper. I'm not sure it made a difference, but my legs were already quite tired by the time class started. I did learn something about where the moleskin needs to be placed. I'll give it another try Saturday, with two layers.

Has it really been six months?

Having taken Beginner 2 classes both Saturday and Sunday mornings, I decided to really go all out and take class both Tuesday evening and tonight. Why not? It's only time. And money. Well, ok, and ibuprofen.

Of course, tonight's class is a Beginner 1 class. There was a point in last night's B2 class that I volunteered to go across the floor in the back of the first group because "I don't know the sequence, so I might as well get it over with." Tonight I was again in the first group, but this time I was leading it. Six months ago I was struggling in this class — has it really been six months?

Still, the slower pace allowed me to learn things I wouldn't learn at the seemingly frenetic pace of the B2 class. I worked on the transition from fifth to coupé. For me, with only 45 degrees of turnout on either side, I have to pull my front foot inward several inches to bring my toes into contact with my ankle. I also have much better control of my balance on demi-point with my other foot in cou de pied than I do in retiré. I think it's that I'm fighting against my lack of flexibility and can't attain a stable position.

I do think I'm going to spend some quality time with my frozen "bag of peas" tonight before I go to bed.