Monday, April 19, 2010

The World of Ballet

After so many years on stage myself, there's always something special about visiting a performance.
The ballerdancer inside me is still there. She's moving quite a lot better than I do at the moment.
And the lights were not for me. Not anymore.

Yesterday my two girls performed.
They're past the years of waving to mom, sticking to automatic movements like putting their hairs behind the ears and other unnecessary behaviour.
They were concentrated and mesmerized the people in the hall.

My young mom's pride of "Look those are my girls" has changed into a lazy feeling of content. They're doing well.

So I was surprised to hear that one of them wanted to stop with ballet and move to sports.
I asked which sport, and she didn't know.
So out with the truth.

She wanted to learn more and new stuff, but she didn't like the teacher who comes next.

The teacher in question had been looking at me for quite a while after the event had finished.
Untill my daughter told this to me I didn't have the faintest desire to move towards her, but in life many things can change suddenly.

So I told my daughter to come with me and asked the teacher for a few moments.
I introduced my daughter to her and told her that she wants to move forward, but had a scare that one time she received a lesson from her.

A faint smiles ran over the teacher's face before she looked at my daughter.
"I'm not always easy...."
"Noop, she isn't. But she's honest. When she's in a good mood, she smiles. When she's in a bad mood,....uhu...don't ask me.
She's a teacher, so she teaches. Always. She scrapes and directs your movements until they're perfect.
She's an artist. She lives with her feelings.
When she's very nice to you, you'd better stop dancing, because then she has given up on you."

For a moment the teacher looked like she was going to attack me, then she smiled and laughed loud.
"You're right. You're so right, that's me."

We had a pleasant talk and I saw my daughter change.
Then suddenly the teacher excused herself for the way she treated me last time. For the argument, for her own behaviour.
After all those years I didn't expect an excuse anymore.
We had a clash, a firm one, about a choreography, the limitations of the dancers in the group, and the way she dealt with a performance. I had to represent the group and excuse her behaviour, not only to the press and the competeting groups, but also to the director of the school.
I prevented injuries, a lot of problems, and all she did was tell me that we should have waited for her and kick me out of the group.
Her loss.

We didn't spend much words on the situation then. I accepted her appologies and she invited my daughter to her lessons, gave her advice to take a second class with her (she only invites talented girls for her second lesson) and asked me to come with my daughter once in a while.
We parted in a very good mood and my daughter was glad we had the talk.

When we went home I had to smile about something else too.
We're all older now.
I stopped ballet because my health couldn't keep up with running a large family with 4 kids with special needs, and hastily bicycling to ballet each evening, to catch an hour distance in 35 minutes turning my feet.
They, the teachers, stayed teaching.
I wrote choreographies and organised performances at my nieces balletschool for a few years when the children were still little.

Now we all have large size clothes.
There's a kind of justice that we all changed from skinny dancers into full sized women.

But oh... how I would love to teach again.


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