All, Art, Culture/Life, Faith, Tales from the Tutu Side

The Gift of Dance

In the words of Porky Pig, “That’s all, folks!”

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The final curtain has fallen on the 2016-2017 ballet season in my neck of the woods. As I think back over the past months, one of the outstanding take-aways for me is gratitude for the opportunity that ballet affords me to encounter other people and, hopefully, to have a positive impact on them.  This interaction happens primarily through the performances themselves.

After one show, an audience member told one of the company’s directors that watching one of the pieces was the first time she had felt joy in two weeks!  What a blessing that we as dancers and artists have a platform to uplift others!

In addition to regular ticketed shows, I’ve also had the chance to dance in numerous outreach performances at elementary schools and at senior living communities/assisted living facilities.

Let me tell you that these are special audiences, and they make these performances some of the most meaningful.

I could write a whole separate blog post about the exuberance, hilarity, and joy of the shows for kids.  They really do say the darndest things!

But dancing for the elderly has been truly moving.  Their faces brighten when we simply walk into the room.

Occasionally, we have been able to chat with the residents of the assisted livings and retirement communities after we’ve performed.  Invariably, we receive nothing but love and encouragement from these lovely souls.  In return, we are able to listen to their stories, such as tales of their own involvement with dance, or we simply offer a friendly smile and a warm hand-shake.

It is such a humbling and beautiful experience to be able to put dance at the service of others in this way.  Like other careers, the dance world can sometimes lead a person to be self-absorbed and to focus on self-aggrandizement in a demanding and competitive environment.  These outreach shows can be a good check on that attitude and a reminder that dance, like all talents, is meant to be shared and to benefit others.

Often in these facilities, we are dancing on carpet or on parquet or a combination of the two.  Sometimes we have to dodge low-hanging chandeliers (a particularly humorous situation for an above-average-height dancer like me).  In any case, definitely not ideal surfaces or conditions for a performance.

But that is not the point.

Of course, from a business angle, we are there to promote our company and our upcoming shows.  However, from a human and personal angle, I’ve come to realize that the purpose of these shows is not flawless technique or mistake-free dances. Naturally, I want to do my best, but the reason for these shows, especially the ones at retirement homes, is to uplift hearts and to spread joy.

Particularly in some of the facilities caring for lower-income senior citizens, our dancing, and simply our presence, is needed and appreciated.  One of the most memorable shows for me was at an organization that cares for children, elderly as well as mentally-challenged adults.  Some of the audience actually had tears in their eyes while we danced.

Even in places where the residents are more well-off financially and physically, our shows can be a morale boost.  One woman, whose granddaughter happens to be a professional dancer, explained to us that she had decided to wear a skirt that evening because she “was going to the ballet.”  She also repeatedly said that she was tired of “only looking at old people!”  Clearly, she was excited to see some youthful faces!

These authentic interactions, whether while dancing or in post-performance conversations, are an affirmation of the dignity of every person.  They are an opportunity for us as dancers to partake in an act of mercy for a group of people that is all too often disrespected and neglected.

I am so deeply grateful that our visits to these various places put a little more love into the world and, hopefully, a ray of sunshine into others’ lives.

“Whatever you did for these least brothers of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40).

These shows are truly a gift for both givers and receivers.

 

Beautiful Ballet Pic
Image credit to Musetouch Visual Arts Magazine

 

All, Art, Tales from the Tutu Side

Corps-eography

Performing is one of my favorite parts of being a dancer.  After all, performing is really the purpose, the point of it all (pun intended).  All of those hours of training and sweating and rehearsing in the studio, while rewarding in themselves, are meant to lead to the sharing of those honed skills and artistic gifts with an audience.  Ballet is indeed a performing art, and one could say that a performing art is a relationship, a relationship between the performers and the audience.  Performing is simultaneously one of the most gratifying, humbling, and exalting experiences in the life of a dancer.

 

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These words can definitely be applied to dancers as well.  Image credit to Classic FM’s page on Facebook.

 

 

Moreover, during performance weeks, the regular class and rehearsal schedule is almost always different due to theater time, costumes fittings, etc.  I like the change of pace.  It is a welcome break from the usual expectations of the day-to-day.  There is also a palpably different energy surrounding performances.  Excitement and nerves are in the air.

Here where I dance, we just completed another performance.  I danced as a sylph in the corps de ballet of “Chopiniana” also known as “Les Sylphides.”  The ballet does not have a narrative.  The only plot line consists of a poet (the only male role in the ballet) who is dreaming of and dancing with a “flock” of sylphs.  The ballet was created over one hundred years ago and is of the romantic style, meaning that the tutus are long and the arms and heads are held in a particular way.  It is much softer and more ethereal than other styles of ballet. I truly feel as if we are a painting come to life.

The corps de ballet is the large group of dancers that are often on stage with and behind the soloists and principals.  Though the corps members are not the “main” dancers in any given ballet, one would feel their absence were they not there.  A well-known example of corps de ballet work is the dance of the Waltz of the Flowers and the Snow scene in “The Nutcracker.” Those particular two pieces are extremely aerobic and physically taxing.  But the true on-going challenge for the corps is pronounced right there in its name. “Corps” means “body” in French, and that it is the task of the corps dancers: to move as one living organism.

The corps work for “Chopiniana” was not as technically or physically difficult as Flowers or Snow or other corps roles, but the challenge was the meticulous care put into making sure the small details, the slow movements, the spacing, were uniform and correct.  Even eye-lines and head angles were under scrutiny.

Being in the corps teaches one to be a team player and to be spatially hyper-aware.  If, during a performance, the person in front accidentally goes off the intended mark, one must follow in order to keep the integrity of line.

I once saw the corps of Nutcracker described as the “unsung heroes” of the ballet because they had danced in every show.  That is another challenge or benefit (depending upon one’s perspective) about dancing in the corps.  Unlike principal and soloist roles, which often have multiple casts for a run of a show, the corps is usually the same for every performance. I read once that a professional dancer said she was in her best physical shape when in the corps because she was so strong from dancing in every show.

The next time you attend a ballet or watch one on video, I encourage you to be more aware of the corps de ballet.  Pay attention not only to its actual dancing, but also to its smaller movements, its poses, its angles and headlines.  Many hours of rehearsals and painstaking polishing of details went into that seemingly effortless final product.

Even though it may be an “unsung hero,” the corps is an integral part of a performance and without it the beauty and richness of many classical ballets would certainly be depleted.

 

Swan Lake photo from Ellman's
Image credit to Ellman’s Dancewear Facebook page.

 

 

All, Art, Tales from the Tutu Side

Moments of Wonder

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Edgar Degas’ Dance Class, Bing Images

 

 

Ballet is a teacher, a teacher of life lessons as well as of quirks unique to the art itself.  Returning to dancing full-time after a college hiatus has reminded me of many of these lessons, both sweet and sour.  For example, I had blissfully forgotten just how gosh darn sore one’s toes become and how much one’s feet can ache after being crammed in pointe shoes for hours on a daily basis.  The flip side of that, however, is the liberating feeling of removing said shoes and being able to spread one’s toes wide apart again.  In ballet, the old saying, “beauty is pain” can very often be all too true.

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Pointe shoes!

Furthermore, training and performing in any dance form and especially in ballet, at least at a school or company worth its salt, teaches a person to push himself/herself.  To perform and even to take class every day, one must have a solid work ethic and a whole lot of discipline.  Moreover, one must allow oneself to be vulnerable for one is continually being compelled to move out of his or her comfort zone, through self-motivation, teacher-prodding, and new and challenging choreography.  Trying and failing and trying and succeeding are part and parcel of the life of a dancer be he/she student or professional.  Practice that pirouette again.  Hold that balance a bit longer.  One more time.  A little more effort.  And most importantly, don’t forget to put heart and soul into the movements as well.  No automaton dancers.  One’s passion for ballet is what one can draw upon to inform the artistry and grace that gives life to the technique.

Despite the mechanics, the technique, and the arduous work that I know goes into ballet, sometimes it still seems like magic to me.  When I watch someone execute a step flawlessly or when the movements feel natural and good in my body or when I see the amazing feats of grace and coordination in balletic partner dancing, I find myself thinking of the tremendous gift that is dance and ballet and of the goodness of life.  I experience a moment of wonder.

Some of these moments have recently come during rehearsals of “The Nutcracker.”  This time-honored ballet favorite is familiar even to those who are not ardent followers of the dance world.  Many professional companies perform dozens of shows of “The Nutcracker” each year during the Christmas season.  Between rehearsals and performances, Nutcracker can easily consume a dancer’s life for three to four months.  Dancers sometimes joke about being sick of hearing the music over and over.

However, I never get sick of it.  Though the choreography of “The Nutcracker” differs company to company, Tchaikovsky’s incomparable music is the one exquisite and steadfast component to any production.  Perhaps because it has been a long time since I have danced in “The Nutcracker,” I have a re-awakened and heightened appreciation for its beauty.  Regardless, while listening to this grand score, I have found myself with goose bumps and not being able to suppress smiles.

One day as I was dancing to “Waltz of the Flowers,” I found myself almost becoming emotional while I was moving across the studio.  My stamina and breath were flagging toward the end of the nearly 7-minute piece, but the music was swelling and building, and in that moment, I realized that I had to allow the music to carry me through to the end.  The music and the realization that to little children in the audience, I really will be an enchanted flower dancing across the stage.  I am a character in a fairy tale.  And to me, that is pretty cool.  Again, a moment of wonder, of magic, and of appreciation for the gift of imagination.

The famous ballet choreographer George Balanchine said, “See the music, hear the dance.” This quote captures in a nutshell the relationship between dance and music, namely, an intimate one that enhances both sides.  I believe a prime example of this quotation is in “The Nutcracker.” The music is so rich and diverse as is the dancing, which includes several smaller dances or variations that reflect different nationalities. The music seems to be telling the story. There is the spiciness of Spanish, the sophistication and sensuality of Arabian, the breathless exuberance and strength of Russian, the excitement of the snow scene, the joy of the waltz of the flowers, and the majesty and romance of the Sugar Plum Fairy and Cavalier’s grand pas de deux, among all the other colorful, beautiful parts.  Throw in costumes and a set and the end result is truly awe-inspiring. (To learn more about a grand pas de deux, please see my previous post, Lessons in Love & Chivalry from the World of Ballet.)

These little moments of wonder are inestimably valuable, especially in our day and age.

Amidst the hustle-and-bustle of our daily lives, the concerns we may have about national and international events, and the modern technology that allows us to have a geyser of information and facts at our beck and call, it is rejuvenating and calming to allow ourselves to feel wonder and awe at the simple things in life and at the beauty of the world around us.  Remembering this can help us on those inevitable days when our occupation or our particular stage in life can be overwhelming or feel monotonous. I know I am trying to recognize more and more the little things in life and to thank God for them.

As a closing thought, if you have never listened to Tchaikovsky’s musical masterpiece of the Nutcracker or if you have never attended a live performance of “The Nutcracker,” do yourself a favor and remedy that situation.  It will be well worth your while.

You can watch an excerpt of “The Nutcracker,” filmed for television in 1977 and performed by Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gelsey Kirkland, two icons of the dance world, here.

All, Art, Faith

Music and Life

Why is music so connected to the human experience? Minds greater than mine have pondered this question; yet, like the haunting notes of a stirring musical score, this inquiry is recurring and timeless.  Why is music so inextricably linked to humanity?  The harmonious and discordant sounds of the world as well as the notes of actual music greet us practically from the first moment of our existence in the wombs of our mothers.  Even if by some bizarre circumstance we somehow were to live our whole lives without hearing any man-made music, we would still be serenaded by nature’s music, so lauded by poets, namely, the whirring of the insects, the chirping of birds, and the roaring of the wind.

I daresay that the majority of people have an opinion on music; there are certainly differing viewpoints on what constitutes good music, on what music is appropriate for certain times and places, and, undoubtedly, there are extreme variances in musical preferences.

A myriad of musical genres exists, and it is a good trait to have a cultivated and eclectic taste in music.  There is no harm in enjoying classical, rock, country, and pop music.  Nevertheless, some music, arguably, is objectively superior to other music.  To paraphrase one of my former philosophy professors at Franciscan University, one can recognize the musical superiority of a Bach or a Beethoven and still simply prefer the music of the Beatles.

Yet all of this discussion still has not answered our initial question regarding music’s relationship to humanity.  It is a somewhat cliche saying that “music is a universal language.”  However, cliches become cliches because they are true, so what is it about music that makes it universal?

In C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters, music is described as an attribute of heaven.  Ludwig von Beethoven, one of the greatest musical geniuses that the world has ever known, said the following statement: “Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom

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Ludwig von Beethoven, From Bing Images

and philosophy.”  Hans Christian Andersen of fairy tale fame, said, “When words fail, music speaks.”

In each of these descriptions of music, there seems to be an appeal to a transcendent quality?  Is this the universal characteristic by which music is united with mankind?  Is it that music appeals to our higher nature, to the spiritual part of us that is connected with God?  And is this why even people who profess no formal religious beliefs sometimes claim to find spiritual expression through music?

Along with those who have considered these questions before me, I would answer with a strong affirmative.  Music can be a channel through we come to a greater self-discovery as well as to a deeper realization of the meaning of our lives.  Moreover, music relates to beauty, which leads to God; therefore, music is a vehicle by which we begin to discover our relationship to God.  Finally, music also has the ability to facilitate a greater understanding between persons.

Firstly, let us consider how music can lead us to a better knowledge of ourselves and of our lives.  St. John Paul the Great in his 1999 “Letter to Artists,” (which is a worthwhile read for everyone, no exclusively partakers in the arts) states,

“Every genuine artistic intuition goes beyond what the senses perceive and, reaching beneath reality’s surface, strives to interpret its hidden mystery.  The intuition itself springs from the depths of the human soul, where the desire to give meaning to one’s  own life is joined by the fleeting vision of beauty and of the mysterious unity of things.”

These eloquent words exemplify the truth that an artistic intuition, which includes musical intuition, is an encounter with beauty and a means of transcending the mere sensory world to see something mysterious and unifying about reality.

How often has someone listened to a particular song or musical composition that seemed to afford a release and an outlet to feelings that were inexpressible otherwise?  Music can be a catharsis and help a person to recognize pains or graces that were previously ignored or unnoticed.

Over and over again in this inspiring letter, our late pope speaks of beauty.  Beauty awakens a yearning within us.

“Beauty is a key to the mystery and a call to transcendence .  It is an invitation to savour life and to dream of the future.  That is why the beauty of created things can never fully satisfy.  It stirs that hidden nostalgia for God…”

And God is beauty itself.

St. John Paul continues, “Every genuine art form in its own way is a path to the inmost reality of man and of the world.  It is therefore a wholly valid approach to the realm of faith, which gives human experience its ultimate meaning.”

Music is art, and, thus, it has the power to shed light on man and on the world, subsequently leading to the transcendent end of faith and of God for Whom man was made.  Certainly these are some of the reasons why music contains such potency and importance for mankind, why it is a universal language.  Music bespeaks of mankind’s Creator, Who knows how to speak to the hearts of each of His creatures through His creation.  God can use music as a means to call us to Himself.

Secondly, music can provide insight and understanding between persons.  In the “Letter to Artists,” St. John Paul writes,

“Through his works, the artist speaks to others and communicates with them.  The history of art, therefore, is not only a story of works produced but also a story of men  and women.  Works of art speak of their authors; they enable us to know their inner life, and they reveal the original contribution which artists offer to the history of culture.”

Thus, this is also a way in which music is universal: we feel connected to one another through music because each composer, each singer/songwriter infuses some of his very self, his soul  into his art, and we cannot help but come to understand him better and to grasp more fully his view of the world than through listening to work.  This builds communion and unity with one another and preserves the story of the past for future generations.

Whether it is the Russian nationalist music of Tchaikovsky or songs from the 1960s and ’70s protesting the Vietnam War, we have a musical record of people’s feelings towards events  that were changing their personal worlds and the world at large.

Music is a wondrous thing.  Music has the ability to transcend, to lead us to a deeper understanding of ourselves and of each other.  Music can be a meeting with beauty, which leads us to a meeting with God.  These qualities of music are, I think, solid answers to our initial queries.  Yet, there are many more answers that are just as worthy, so let us conclude as we began–with thought-provoking questions: How has music  been a part of your life? Have you felt the beauty of music?  Have you been drawn closer to God and to your fellow man through a musical composition?  How has the universal language of music influenced and changed the notes of your individual life’s song?

NOTE: This is a slightly edited version  of a piece that I originally wrote for The Gadfly, a student publication at Franciscan University of Steubenville,  in 2014.

All, Art

The Gifts of Beauty and the Arts

NOTE: This is an edited version of an opinion piece that I wrote for Franciscan University of Steubenville’s student newspaper The Troubadour in March 2016.

This past February, Franciscan University was graced by the beautiful music of pianist and composer Eric Genuis.  His concert was one of the most inspirational events I had experienced in quite a  while.  Not only was his music exquisite, but he also shared so many profound thoughts about the importance of beauty and the arts in people’s lives.

In my final semester of college and as a life-long ballet dancer, it was a timely reminder of the value of something that has always been an integral part of my life.  Genuis exhorted the audience to fill their lives and their children’s lives with beauty.  “Beauty is the language of God,” he said, and the arts have the ability to encourage, uplift, and offer hope to people through an encounter with beauty.

Genuis gave multiple moving examples of this power, such as seemingly hardened prisoners for whom he performed, being deeply touched by the beautiful music.  He shared that one man stood up and exclaimed in the middle of the first piece that he had forgotten what hope felt like.

Genuis’ testimonies are concrete examples of how truly universal and unifying the arts can be.  The arts, both fine and performing, have the power to unite, in cordiality and friendship, people who might otherwise not have much in common.

An instance of this is the friendship of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and the late Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia.  She is a petite, liberal, Jewish woman, and he was a burly, conservative, Catholic man.  They clearly did not share the same political or religious beliefs, yet Ginsburg, in her statement following Scalia’s death, said that they were “best buddies.”  A noted part of their friendship was a shared love of opera.  There was even an opera written about the two of them.

We live in a society that is increasingly polarized and divisive when it comes to morals, to politics, to some of the really important questions in life.  These are, obviously, consequential differences that need to be respectfully discussed and considered.

However, part of the power of the arts is that they are, arguably, a great equalizer, a way to set aside our differences if even for a little while.  They are a means to celebrate the joy of being alive.  All people, no matter their political or religious affiliation, can enjoy and be inspired by a ballet, a play, a concert, or a lovely portrait.  They can be reminded that there is more to life and to the world than materiality.  They can be reminded of their own capacity for creativity and for goodness or for evil.

In his “Letter to Artists,”  Pope St. John Paul II, makes the important distinction between creation or bringing something out of nothing, which only God can do, and craftsmanship or working with already existing material, which is what man does.  Nevertheless, he writes, “God therefore called man into existence, committing to him the craftsman’s task.  Through his ‘artistic creativity’ man appears more than ever ‘in the image of God,’ and he accomplishes this task above all in shaping the wondrous ‘material’ of his own humanity and then exercising creative dominion over the universe which surrounds him.”

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All, Art, Tales from the Tutu Side

Lessons in Love & Chivalry from the World of Ballet

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A Hopi Indian saying goes, “To watch us dance is to hear our hearts speak.”  Dance is expressive of one’s innermost feelings.  It is a vehicle by which those emotions can be conveyed powerfully to an audience and can make the spectators feel what the dancer is feeling.  Dance can tell a story without words, and it has the capability to transport those watching into a different time and place.  Dancing has been an integral part of human history down through the ages.  Nearly every culture has its own traditional folk dances that are unique to it.  In the formal dance world of today, there are numerous genres of dance: classic disciplines like ballet, jazz, tap, and ballroom as well as contemporary genres like hip-hop and break dancing.  The different kinds seem to be continually multiplying.  There are several television shows that, happily, bring dance into people’s living rooms.  Though, unfortunately, the emphasis of these shows can sometimes seem to be more about overt (and objectifying) sexuality than about the art form of dance and the portrayal of inspiring and beautiful relationships between a male and a female dancer.

However, this is not the only way in which the world of dance presents relationships, and one only has to travel to the theatre or search for a video on YouTube to watch a very different portrayal of relationships in the world of classical ballet.  People may not initially think to look to ballet for an example of a positive, romantic man-woman relationship.  Yet it is there, engrained in the very function and atmosphere of the movements.

George Balanchine, the world-renowned choreographer and founder of New York City Ballet, once said, “The ballet is a purely female thing; it is woman, a garden of beautiful flowers, and man is the gardener.”  At first glance, one might be taken aback by this bold, perhaps stereotypical statement; nevertheless, it warrants consideration.  Most of society certainly associates ballet with girls and women even though there have been repeated examples of male professional athletes who extol the benefits of taking ballet.  The athletic prowess of male dancers could match almost any athlete; moreover, dancers must be graceful and artistic at the same time as they exude power and strength.  There’s even a humorous saying about male dancers: “Real men don’t lift weights, they lift women.”

Nevertheless, I think Balanchine is grasping at something deeper than the mere physical aspects of ballet, though they could be considered the manifestation of that deeper concept.  He is, arguably, touching on the relationship between man and woman as depicted in the world of ballet.  That relationship is one of complementarity and chivalry, two words that are often excluded from the contemporary milieu regarding relationships.

This notion of complementarity and romantic chivalry is manifested through the steps of ballet and through the interaction between the man and woman, especially in what is known as the grand pas de deux.  The grand pas de deux can be found in full-length ballets, such as the pas de deux of the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Cavalier in “The Nutcracker.”  The grand pas is danced between the two leads in a ballet, and it includes five parts: an entrance, an adage (slow) section, male and female solos, and a concluding up-tempo coda.

Overall, the dance highlights the dancers’ strengths both together and individually.  In the sections of the grand pas in which they dance together, the couple must possess unfailing trust in one another, not only emotionally but also physically as one’s bodily well-being partially rests with the other person.

The ballerina must trust her partner to catch her, to physically hold and to lift her, and to support her in her movements.  In doing this, she exhibits vulnerability and self-gift, and through this, a certain strength and courage.  On the other hand, the man must trust himself to care for and to uphold her, and he must trust her to do everything in her power to help him to support her.  This help can be simply how she holds her body in a supported pirouette (turn) or by making eye contact with him before a lift.  Just as communication is essential in off-stage relationships, one could say that the aforementioned examples are a form of unspoken on-stage communication which is necessary to make the grand pas de deux the best that it can be.

Also as in real life, a major part of this ballet relationship is timing.  Timing is everything in balletic partner dancing.  In rehearsals, the duo should strive to come to know one another on a personal level.  In order for the grand pas to be successful, the couple must learn each other’s quirks, weaknesses, and strengths.  Only then can the dance be seamless and united.

Naturally, this trust and coordination can only develop over time–which requires patience, another essential ingredient to both on and off-stage relationships.  The two dancers painstakingly rehearse for countless hours, sometimes practicing the same step over and over.  Through the good days and the bad, they must work together through frustrations, challenges, and even injuries in order to achieve their common goal of a mesmerizing and seemingly effortless final product for the stage.  They both have a vested interest in the dance, and they must be willing to do what it takes to make it work.

The male and female solos are the opportunity for the individual dancer to display his or her dancing abilities.  A female solo can be elegant, graceful and even a little bit sassy.  The ballerina may show off her turning and balancing abilities or other steps that exemplify strength.  The man’s solo is typically filled with bravado and impressive turns and jumps.  These solos are short and impactful.  Despite the fact that they are complete and lovely in and of themselves, when the two dancers come together again, it elevates the dancing to a new level.  Together they are able to do things they could not do by themselves, and with their combined energy and teamwork, they create a thing of beauty.

The overall feeling of the grand pas de deux is one of chivalry, respect, and romance.  The man’s character is inspired by the woman’s character, her beauty, and her love.  The female dancer is supported, protected, and presented to the audience by her partner as the one to be watched and admired.  His energy and strength are complemented by her quieter, gentler power.  They are not in competition with one another but rather work together to be the best versions of themselves on stage.

This mutual giving and respect between the couple extends even to the final bow at the end of the performance.  The couple returns to the stage together, but the man usually takes a few steps back for his bow so that, once again, the ballerina is the main focus.  Furthermore, it is a tradition for the lead ballerina to receive a bouquet of flowers and often, she will pluck a flower from her bouquet and give it to her partner in a gracious gesture of sharing and affection.

From start to finish, the grand pas de deux and the world of classical ballet promotes a version of male-female relationships that may be idyllic but is also inspiring and beautiful.  Though real life is not like fairy tales and ballets, the values these stories and traditions embody are certainly worthy ones, and they deserve a deeper consideration and perhaps emulation in the real world relationships that are lived each and every day.

 

NOTE: I originally wrote this article for The Gadfly, a student publication at Franciscan University of Steubenville.