I passed some young dancers yesterday. They reminded me of the last time I went to a live ballet. I enjoyed it. I give the company a lot of credit for entertaining several hundred people for over two hours without uttering a word. I also learned that ballet had become dance theater that included props, and costumes. Traditional ballet must have left the stage when I wasn't watching and was replaced with dance drama that left me spell bound, to use an equally dramatic phrase.
Although the performance was wonderful, I had trouble enjoying myself because I am afraid of heights. I had two ticket choices. I could sit in the orchestra and pay $100.00 or purchase a seat in the balcony for $50.00. I picked the balcony and was air-lifted to my seat. I did not realize that balcony was another word for ceiling. I was so high up that I was afraid to look around. For twenty minutes, I assured myself that when the house lights go down, I will be able to focus on the stage and forget that my head is touching the ceiling, and my nose is starting to bleed. I was frozen with fear because I was higher than the lights and other technical looking items suspended from the ceiling.
Should I have left? I couldn't. The isle was so narrow that my knees were touching my chin and the only escape would be if half of the row (I was in the middle) stood and shimmied out first. No one in my row could have gotten up without assistance. The woman next to me was wearing my mother's mink wrap. Then I heard my 'better' self, “Wait a minute Miss Pat, it is time to stop complaining, to stop thinking about how many months went into a production that will last only two hours, and didn't someone, somewhere once say, Critical minds can't enjoy ?" So I focused on the performance, relaxed and I did enjoy myself.
My relationship with classical ballet goes back to Catholic school. In my childhood in the progressive state of New York, we did not have P.E. class. The boys were given instruction in tap dancing and the girls were taught ballet. It’s an interesting paradigm and my adult perspective is that somehow this was acceptable because …because… actually, I have no idea but we didn’t question it or miss locker rooms and basketballs. Instead I learned to stand with my feet in the five basic ballet positions. I have always enjoyed dance exercise classes and perhaps that is due to this early introduction.
In one adult class, I danced my little buttowski off. A troupe of African dancers allowed non-troupe members to join them for a weekly workout. I kept up pretty well. At the close of each session we formed a circle and one at a time we would step in and ‘move to the beat.’ The nuns would not have been smiling.
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