Claire Zhang investigates young ballet dancers ...

Svs.andals Pointe Shoes Claire Zhang investigates young ballet dancers’ passion for their painfully beautiful craft

PHOTOS BY JULIE REITER

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n 2010, a crazed ballet dancer stabbed her understudy right before show time, declaring madly that it was her turn – fictionally, of course. Black Swan presented to audiences everywhere the dark side of ballet, a dizzying world of throwing up in the bathroom, self-harm, competitive backstabbing, lecherous directors, overbearing mothers, and psychotic perfectionism. There is the widespread conception of ballet as a breeding ground for body image and self-esteem issues. At New Haven Ballet, the ballet dancers have seen the movie. It’s a cool movie, they will agree, but insist their experience is nothing like the grim one portrayed by Natalie Portman. For them, rehearsals and practice are fun. I drop by while their practicing for The Nutcracker, which opened at the New Haven Shubert Theatre in December. Rehearsal is bustling. The soldiers shoot rifle props, the Nutcracker Princes brandish swords, the baby mice piggyback on the older mice, who in turn run around with a giant cardboard cheese prop. (“The cheese! The cheese! Oh no! Get it!” Jared Redick, artistic director of New Haven Ballet, narrates). Giggles are plentiful: “Crying, crying for the Mouse King – not laughing!” Redick says to the little mice, only to be greeted by a swell of laughter. They struggle to hold their feigned sad faces. “Crying! Crying!” they repeat. In talking to the dancers, what’s most astonishing is how at such a young age they have nonetheless found such intense love. “Ballet is my passion. I could do ballet every day, every 7

New Haven feature hour of the day and I wouldn’t be tired,” said Loeke Sanders, 13, from Belgium, playing a harlequin doll, echoing a sentiment many shared with me. Parents backed up this attitude. “[My daughter] actually teaches me some of the moves at home. Most evenings, we have to have kind of a talent show, because she turns the ballet music on and twirls around the house,” said Tracy Van Oss, mother of a seven-year-old dancer and a professor at Quinnipiac University. It’s difficult for the dancers themselves to express what precisely brings them such joy; Loeke told me I’m not the first to ask her (“and I just don’t know!” she said). Perhaps most obvious is ballet’s beauty. Their movements are all so springy, nimble, and light. Sarah Marsland, 12, and holding four parts: a snowflake, flower, columbine doll, and sugar plum attendant, said that she feels graceful while dancing. Loeke mentioned elegance. Many of the dancers described turning or leaping movements as their favorites, such as pirouettes or grand jetés. But ballet extends beyond beauty. It is an art form, and aesthetic beauty is only one aspect of art. “It’s about communication and self-expression. It goes far beyond tutus. You have these contemporary cutting edge works, which are very interesting. You have these full length ballets where you get into very dramatic works, so now you’re a dancer and an actor on stage,” explains Redick. For some, ballet is an expression of the self. Maura Connell, 12, and also playing Clara, said that she likes how “you can show your personality.” 8 |Fall 2012

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For others, it’s about inhabiting a different personality. “You can be someone else than you really are, like a doll, like I don’t walk around like this – ” said Loeke, holding her arms rigidly upright and marching around stiffly for a bit on her toes to demonstrate. The various musical pieces of the ballet have their “own character and flavor,” according to Redick. Paige Calvert, 14, playing a mouse, snowflake, sugar plum attendant, and Baker, outlined a glimpse of these. “Mouse and Baker are definitely parts that you can have a ton of fun in. As a mouse, your entrance can be to roll on stage, and you jump around and fight with little kids, and as Baker, you stand on a giant cake and smile.” I recalled the older mice pantomiming nibbling motions with their teeth and scrunching their faces at each other; the crawling, creeping motions they took to reach the center of the floor; and the scurrying, hopping movements of the baby mice. The interpretation and conveyance of these personalities are crucial to communicate to the audience. Redick emphasized the importance of this. “When I look at the Claras in particular, I want to see the magic of Christmas in their eyes. There are other things as well, but they have to have that kind of feeling, because the audience needs to feel that,” said Redick. Magical is another word the dancers frequently use, and it’s especially relevant in a production of The Nutcracker, where nutcracker, dolls, and desserts come to life and dance amongst fairies, flowers, animals, and snowflakes. For Paige, the performance itself

is rather magical. “Everything hits you when you get to the Shubert. The stage seems bigger, the lights seem brighter, your heart’s beating faster, but it’s still all in good fun.” One of my greatest surprises, as a former piano player whose fingers and legs shook prior to recitals, is that few of the dancers have reservations about performing. They’re supremely self-assured. Even the Claras, who must “carry the story,” according to assistant choreographer Elizabeth McMillan, (which seems a weighty job with which to task a 10-year-old and 12-yearold) both shake their heads and say “no” in unison when I ask if they are nervous. They all seem to enjoy the spotlight. “I know what I’m doing and I’m proud. I’m in front of maybe hundreds of people that I don’t know. [I think], ‘Wow they might be talking about me,’” said Nikolay. “I like looking down at the stage and seeing all the faces,” said Taylor Burns, 14, playing a harlequin doll. Self-confidence, contrary to the negative stereotype of ballet dancers as preoccupied with their weight or appearance, is one of ballet’s greatest benefits according to parents. “Girls at this age can feel a little self-conscious or awkward, and I think ballet counteracts that. When they move so gracefully, I think they feel good about their own body,” said Christopher Koval. Paige noted that this negative stereotype is the only one among the many about ballet that bothers her. “There is never any pressure at all to be skinny. There are no scales, there are no weight checks. It is completely, completely untrue and hurtful. In a student company, like NHB, there are beautiful girls of all shapes, sizes,

New Haven feature and heights, and that’s what makes ballet beautiful to me.” Despite the obvious beauty and glamour and fun, however, ballet is not easy. (Though it is certainly not as horrific as portrayed in Black Swan.) Class and practice can get very tough, and rather painful. “Sometimes when you do pointe work, your feet hurt a lot and you get blisters,” said Maura. The pointe shoes let the dancers defy gravity and dance on the very tips of their toes. They’re ballet shoes with a large block of wood in the toe, and are the hallmark of the professional classical ballet dancer. Though the girls sacrifice “sandal feet” for the shoes (think the bruised, bloody toenails), receiving them is a rite of passage. “It’s a different feeling than being in regular shoes, because you feel more professional and grown up,” said Sarah. Sarah pulls out a pair of her own. I knock on the toe. Definitely hard wood. Ouch. Sarah told me she spent three hours on the shoes that day. Imagine the weight of your entire body crushing your toes against wooden blocks while trying to dance for three hours. Sarah and Maura are only 12 years old. It takes large amounts of time and practice to build up endurance. Dancers must go through a pre-pointe class, involving extensive work at the bar to train the feet and legs. “I hate the pain. You feel it after pointe or just regular class, you’re so sore to the point where you sit down in the car, and you honestly just want to never move again,” said Paige. There are the mental challenges that come with learning anything new as well. Frustration can occur when learning new, difficult steps that are hard to get right.

“It’s never perfect, so you always have to improve and sometimes it can be the feeling that you’re not good,” said Loeke, expressing the classic ballet drive, but it is a drive that comes from a personal love. As is the case with most teenagers, neither are the dancers completely immune to the woes of comparing themselves to their peers, though not out of mean spirited jealousy. “There are some girls who I dance with who are just amazing. I mean they could go on to be professionals. I see them, and I feel like I’m not as good as them,” said Paige, though she gets over this quickly: “I be me and I rock it.” One challenge that faces male dancers, especially, is the perception that ballet is a girl’s activity. Asked whether there was ever a question of not dancing ballet, Redick slapped his hand down on the desk and declared – “Absolutely! I’m a boy!” Nikolay said that misconceptions about boys in ballet “make no sense,” especially given, “a lot of great ballet dancers are boys.”

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Vita Bella!

fall and push ‘em back up to get up there and do it again.” The stereotype about “Ballet parents” being very involved certainly seems to hold up. Deana Vendetto, Sofia’s mother, laughs when I ask her how much time she spends driving her daughters. “Hours. Hours hours and hours, but I love it. We do it. They love it and I love it for them.” The Koval and Merlini parents good-humoredly referred to the task of transporting their children as “schlepping.” Many of the parents volunteer backstage during productions. Mary Merlini helps with costumes, makeup and hair, tracking down missing buttons or fixing loose bobby pins. Her husband chaperones the boy dancers. Lee Beatty supervises the dancers while they wait for their calls, which normally involves coloring, DVD’s, and books. They are extraordinarily proud of their children’s achievements. “Oh god – buttons are bursting,” Koval said, on watching his daughter perform.

with hatred who try to sabotage each other because she ‘stole my part’.

For dance help, the dancers turn to their instructors, who correct technique. For motivational help, however, most dancers look to their parents, who are their best sources of support. “We always tell [our daughters] to try their best, to work hard and to stay with it. Sometimes she gets frustrated with herself, so we keep saying ‘stay with it’,” said Beatty, “We kind of catch them when they

“Like watching them walk for the first time,” Van Oss said. Camaraderie between dancers is another important source of support for the challenges of ballet. Unlike the “sensationalized” world often portrayed in media, Redick says it’s a “privilege” to share the world of dance with fellow dancers, even in a professional company. “To watch your friends and colleagues and peers on stage achieving

New Haven feature things, and you know what’s difficult for them… It’s just a wonderful experience to watch people succeed, to rise to the challenges given to them, not just yourself, to be a part of that.” In school, the students “push off each other,” as Beatty notes. During rehearsal, when some of the younger children needed to go to the bathroom, the older girls took their hand and lead them up the stairs. They corralled masses of “little pink people” into the elevator and ferried them back up to the lobby after rehearsal. “We are not extreme crazy people filled with hatred who try to sabotage each other because she ‘stole my part’. Honestly, we’re not that dramatic. We’re all like family to one another. We know when the others are hurt, so we give them Advil and Band-Aids to make it all better,” said Paige. In spite of the pain and occasional frustration, the challenges and overcoming those challenges are actually a large part of what the dancers love about ballet. Ballet is about growth, not perfectionism. “If you want to get better, it’s kind of up to you, and I like that,” said Sarah. “Sometimes you can get stuck, like you can try something a lot and it won’t work, and you need to figure out for yourself how to make it better.” Younger dancers aspire to one day dance the most difficult solo roles of The Nutcracker in their senior year: Dew Drop, Snow Queen, or Spanish Lead. “It’s a hard part, but it’s rewarding, because you get to be the star,” said Sarah, a fact that surprised me because I had been under the impression that Clara, the main character, would be the star. In fact, the Claras are rather young. Sarah played the

part two years ago. Paige warned me not to refer to ballet dancers as ballerinas though, even the stars. “A ballerina is a stereotypical tutu wearing girl who is just so happy all the time and doesn’t have to work hard, bone skinny and just does everything perfectly. It’s what our parents call us, but we’re just not. It’s a little girl word. A ballet dancer is a real person who works hard. It’s the grown up version of a ballerina. So call us dancers, we are grown up people.” Although Redick might beg to differ: “I had a director who used to say – and I used to get upset with it – ‘You’re never a dancer until you’re 30!’ and when you’re in your 20s you’re like, ‘I’ve worked my butt off, I’m in my 20s, I’m already a dancer. I’ve been dancing professionally for 5 or 8 years!’ And then I turned 30. There’s this wonderful juxtaposition of experience and age and your body, what you learned, and he was right, he was absolutely right about that.”

Although the world of ballet isn’t exactly the dreamy, delicate one that small girls and observers like myself might imagine it to be, it isn’t the destructive, dark one of Black Swan either. The seemingly literal blood and sweat that goes into practice can be positive, and turns the art of ballet into something better, something akin to what The Nutcracker is all about – Clara’s dream (or is it?) come to life. “We all have a little bit of Clara in us,” said Paige. “When you put the costume on, whatever it is, a tutu, a mouse head, or polka dot shirt and chef ’s hat, you finally get to become the character you have been working on for months. That dream of what it’s like inside your head finally becomes reality. You get to live it for the four days. Then when you go to bed after it’s all over, you dream about it again and again ‘til auditions come around next year.”

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