“I’m sorry, I’m completely insane.”
The man who normally teaches the advanced ballet class I take is on vacation for the next few weeks, so we’re having a series of substitutes. The two men who teach the intermediate classes are taking some of the days, but this week we’re having a new teacher.
Anyone who’s ever taken the advanced class knows her. She’s impossible to miss. A grand woman of sixty-some years, she arrives dressed in an outfit you might see a 20-year old wear – skinny jeans, and a leather jacket – and manages to look great in it.
When she’s in class, she’ll stand at the west wall barre, right in front of the mirror, and set up two space heaters pointing at her. (If it’s a cold day, then the best place to stand is right behind her.) She’s always, always wearing her old pairs of pointe shoes (I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t even own any flat shoes).
She doesn’t dance like she used to. (But you can tell she used to be great.) Some classes seem like a struggle for her – she never seems particularly happy with the way she performs in class.
But it’s so obvious she loves it.
She’s the queen bee in class. You don’t take her spot at the barre. You don’t dance in front of her. And god forbid you get in her way during a combination.
But when she’s just another student in class, you don’t get to see the full extent of her vibrant personality.
To be honest, she’s a little crazy. She says so herself.
And she is one hell of an inspiring woman.
She teaches frenetically, talks at 100 miles per hour, and is always laughing. Watching her teach, you can tell how much she loves it, as well as how she misses it. Her intense hazel eyes are always twinkling with a passion for dance, and a desire for all of her students to love it and strive to dance well just as she always has.
She wants each student to give their all in class. She values a true performance – softness in the arms, a lift to the chin, a light in the eyes that says “I am here; and you are here to watch me,” and gives the audience the magic that they are looking for in a ballet – as opposed to bland but technically perfect executions of the combinations.
Not many teachers do.
I sincerely hope that someday, when I’m her age, I can be so inspiring.
[...] If you read yesterday’s post, you might have caught the part where I mentioned taking the upper-level children’s classes at the studio where I dance. This isn’t a regular occurrence, but now, during winter break, they have a temporary class right after the advanced adult class I take (which is currently being taught by a wonderfully crazy woman). [...]