| Men in Dance Men who began dance study as adults speak out Last updated 1 February 2000 |
||
| Geoffrey Joseph Kevin Don George Nick Perseus
We now have seven stories. New this time: Geoffrey Kimbrough, who, unlike most of us, had a professional career in ballet, until an injury caused a 17-year absence from dance. But now he's back. |
My mother offered to send me to dancing school -- you can guess what my reaction was -- but she finally persuaded me by finding a school that was far enough away that I would not risk meeting any schoolmates in or near the studio. I was enrolled in a jazz class to learn a few
steps. So there I was, one of only two boys in a class full of beautiful young girls. And not only did they not laugh at me, they made me feel welcome. Acceptance. Camaraderie, even praise! I was hooked.
Soon I was taking more classes, and asking about careers in dance. I didn't like the answer that came back: "If you want to dance professionally, you have to study ballet." Who, me? Nah. Never. Well, not until one blue-eyed beauty asked me to partner her. Well, ok, but no tights, ok? Ok. Ten minutes into my first class I was informed that I had some arcane quality called "turnout," and that it would be an affront to God not to become a ballet dancer. Well, maybe. But no tights, ok? Ok.
Soon the little school had a recital, in which I performed in the ballet (to Holst's The Planets), wearing bell-bottoms. Curtain calls! Applause! That was it, I bought a pair of tights.
I had an identity. I was a *dancer*. I lost weight and gained confidence and ultimately my mother's plan succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. (Or nightmares: I went from having no dates to being a serious lady-killer. Not exactly what she had in mind.)
Since this is about adult dancers, I'll skip over my professional career. Suffice it to say that I was
successful, right up until I tore my Achilles' tendon in a rehearsal. I struggled with that injury for awhile, but soon had to quit dancing and get another life.
So I've spent the last 17 years in computers. I didn't dance, or take class, or even *see* a ballet for 15 years. In fact, I couldn't even listen to Nutcracker or Swan Lake on the radio without breaking down. I was in bad shape. I gained 40 pounds, and somehow forgot what it felt
like to have an athlete's body. I tried a few things to keep in shape, but everything else is boring once you're hooked on cabrioles and pirouettes, and anyway my ankle was still wrecked.
Well, the computer biz pays well, and has great benefits, including psychotherapy, and 10 years of therapy helped me to deal with my loss. Finally about two years ago I dared to put on tights again and try the barre. (And, just like in my first class, I wore sweat pants out of embarrassment, but this time because I *knew* what I looked like.)
It was like coming home. Like bracing myself to plunge into a cold mountain stream and landing in a hot tub. I remembered every step, even if I couldn't *do* them, I
knew exactly how, and progressed rapidly. I didn't diet, but the extra weight just fell off as my body shifted back into gear. Not all of it, those last 5 pounds to get down to my old performance weight would be a struggle that I see no point to, but the human body is pretty smart, it will shed what it really doesn't need, if you let it and give it a good reason to.
Oh, and I was also able to stop taking the anti-depressants which I'd been on for years.
I can't believe I spent all that time dead. Ballet is the ultimate meaning of life. My tendon is still damaged -- I still have to be very careful to warm up and do not dare to do the grand allegro, and even so I eat Ibuprofen like candy, but I can dance au terre, and that's closer to heaven than most mortals ever climb.
So, they've made progress in sports medicine, it's possible that my tendon can be repaired now. That'd
be nice, but even if it can't, I am back in the studio a few times a week. I am home again.
Update from Geoffrey (1/00): So, no sooner do you get my story up on your site, but I have to amend it. In July I had surgery on my ankle, and now, after 6 months of
re-hab and Pilates, the injury is completely gone. Ah. modern medicine! Too bad there's no cure for age. But now I can take as many classes and do as much jumping as I want. I may find some performing to do if things keep going the way they are (quick, before I lose too
much hair 8^).
-- Geoffrey Kimbrough (who started dancing at 16, and started dancing at 43)
When I was 37, I decided to go back to school and get a degree as a part-time student. I am now in my junior year at Cal State/Hayward, doing a double major in mathematics and computer science, and I have just been invited to join the honors society.
About 3 1/2 years ago, I broke two of the metatarsals in
my left foot doing an aikido seminar. After about a year of
recuperation, my foot was still not right. I had pain and weakness, and I hated it. I needed some arts units for my degree, and I saw that modern dance would satisfy this requirement. I thought that this would be a cool way to kill two birds with one stone. Fix my foot and get my units.
I thought that this would be a snap for me. I have some
experience with movement. When I was in my early thirties, I took a fourth in international competition for tai chi chuan. I was one-tenth of a point out of third, and nine- tenths of a point out of first -- and I was the only non-Asian among the top people. Fifth place was two points below me.
I thought I was hot. I could just cruise into there, dance
around for a while, and get my units. WRONG. Dance was much different then any of the movement work I had done before. As a matter of fact, almost the opposite.
In martial arts, you want to sink your weight so as not to be knocked down when struck, and to generate power for your
blows. In dance you want to come up and be weightless. No small feat for a three-hundred-pounder.
I love challenges and this was a challenge. There was only one other man in class besides me, and about 20 beautiful young women who had been dancing since they were in the womb. The first year, I couldnt look at myself in the mirror. The radical difference between how I looked compared with these little pixies was too much for me.
I kept at it. After about a year-and-a-half, I took a ballet class in the summer. This improved my technique immensely. I love barre work.
Now it has been 2 1/2 years. I have taken modern so
many times that the administration wont let me take it anymore. So I do jazz twice a week, and also do go-ju karate and weight training twice a week.
The jazz dance is with the same teacher I had for modern, Joan Burke. Its really cool to have new dancers come to the class. You look at them and you just know that they are good at dance, been doing it since they were four. They look at you after the first class, eyes wide with amazement, and say "Wow, you can dance."
I started ballet because I played a lot of sports and I heard that it would help me! After six months of ballet, I really noticed an improvement in my jumping and coordination! I was really surprised! At this time I like ballet more
than any sports I had played!
I was first introduced to ballet when I was in sixth grade. We had a school field trip to see the Nutcracker during the Christmas season. After that show I wanted to take ballet but I was too scared because of what my MALE friends would say if I took ballet. (The sissy thing). I was
immature like most boys at that age. Even in high school I wanted to do it but still, the peer pressure was even greater!
Then when I was 26 . . . I finally said I will give it a try! I will take ballet for me and not for others! I really don't care of what other people may say!
The hardest part was to sign up for ballet and show up!
During my very first ballet class, I was very lost and scared even though there were two other guys in there. Before I took ballet , I thought to myself that ballet was easy and simple -- WRONG, what a rude awaking. It was very hard but fun!
After a few ballet classes, I fell in love with ballet. It is one of the koolest things I have ever experienced and nobody can take that away from me. I will take ballet as long as I can! I just added a jazz class, too! I just wish that I had started earlier. I am taking ballet and dance as a hobby and I am not planning on becoming a professional!
I want to encourage more guys to take ballet/dance if they are interested in it. Don't make the same mistake as me! Take the plunge and try it! I want to encourage more guys to place their bios on this website. It is a very kool place to visit!
The grade school I attended from second through fifth grades taught social dancing once a week in lieu of any organized athletics; I enjoyed the opportunity to chat with my girlfriends, but the dancing itself did not appeal to me. (Nor did the teachers: two old ladies who told us that we were the worst class they had ever taught. They said this to every class.)
Through high school and into college I maintained my disinterest, despite occasionally interviewing dancers
and choreographers for various school newspapers.
There was another reason why I wasn't a dance enthusiast in my early years. When I was four something happened to my left foot. The tendon that stretches to the top of the big toe, which in an ordinary foot does most of the work of
flexing the foot, had quit working. No doctor ever said unequivocally what caused this; it might have been polio, or a carelessly-located injection in my hip, or something else. I wore an ankle brace for the rest of my childhood.
After years of exercises and some surgery to move an intact tendon to a position with better leverage, I was able to flex my foot enough to walk almost normally and discard the brace. Nevertheless, my foot is easily sprained, and I have a knack for tripping over smooth spots on the sidewalk.
In my 20s, I saw several ballets on television, and I was intrigued. It was elegant and graceful and sometimes astonishing, but it was a language I didn't understand. I had been similarly fascinated by music (I still am), which
resulted in my buying a piano and taking courses in music theory. However, given my weak foot, I didn't think that a similar strategy would work with ballet.
After I finally graduated from Wichita State University and resolved never to sit in a classroom again, I figured that I would miss the company of strange people, so I joined the Society for Creative Anachronism (SCA) -- it was either that
or radical politics. This is an organization devoted to the study and re-creation of the European middle ages and incidentally to freaking out 20th-century Americans. One day I was dragged onto the floor at a medieval dance practice before I could explain about my foot, and, golly, I learned that I *could* dance.
In fact, I learned to do pavannes, bransles and country dances very quickly, and the Wednesday evening dance practice quickly became the highlight of my week. I subsequently discovered that most of the other people there came mainly to schmooze and gossip, and I lost patience with them. So one October evening, when I was about 30, I decided to start ballet.
I first climbed the stairs to the Wichita Metropolitan Ballet studio the following February. There wasn't any adult beginner class, and I found myself in the intermediate class, the only man among about eight or ten women. All
of them had been taking class for years, some of them for most of their lives.
All of them were friendly and glad I was there. I had never felt so clumsy and slow in my life, not even when I went out for baseball in sixth grade, but everyone without exception was encouraging. The teacher, June Landrith,
told me I had beautiful arches. Never mind that the next day I could identify each of the muscles in my body by its distinctive ache -- I was hooked.
(A digression on dance attire: as an occasional Renaissance musician, I wear hose in which one leg is striped black and white and the other is solid red, or both legs are partly striped and partly checked, or are otherwise
tastefully flamboyant. As a 20th-century American I wear bicycle shorts and tights, and my swimsuits are Speedos. Black tights and white t-shirts seem downright conservative to me.
In a dance class you very quickly lose any self-consciousness about your appearance. You have too much else to keep in mind to worry whether you look
like a dork: No, you don't. Dance clothes become just another set of workout wear. Nobody in any dance class ever commented on what I wore.)
Sooner than I expected, I found myself on stage. The Metropolitan Ballet for their spring performance that year did "The Sleeping Beauty" with the original Royal Ballet costumes and with the assistance of Martin Fredmann and
Patricia Renzetti. I was assigned a tiny role as a "man-at-arms" -- I ran on stage during the prelude to announce (in mime) the arrival of Carabosse -- and
even though my part lasted less than ten seconds and wasn't really a dancing role, I was listed in the program, and I got to appear on the same stage as real dancers, white tights and all.
My weak foot mattered less than I had anticipated (though it probably would have thwarted a professional dance career had I begun sufficiently young and been so minded). I figured that I could do 99% of what non-dancers can and
95% of what dancers can. What I couldn't do was balance on demi-pointe on my left foot for long or close my feet to fifth position with the left foot in back without shifting my hip. Very little else was affected; if my pirouettes were
shaky, it was due to inexperience, not weakness.
I continued taking class with June Landrith (or her daughter Jill, or Nancy Hervey) once or twice a week for a few years. In that time I met a few other men who danced. One was a high school kid who intended to major in dance. Two
others were soldiers from the nearby Air Force base. All of them were good athletes; one of the soldiers did push-ups while standing on his hands.
Against my better judgment, I returned to Wichita State University to get another useless degree. Each semester I took a dance class in addition to the academic fare. My ballet teachers were Wendy Hanes and Carol Iwasaki. I
also took a semester of modern dance with the late Kim Stephens. As before, the teachers were uniformly encouraging. Although most of my classmates were
college-age, there were enough older students that I didn't feel like a freak, and there were occasionally other men in the classes.
At this time I was in the best shape of my life. I weighed what I did when I graduated from high school and I had nearly infinite endurance. I could stand on a phone book and put my palms flat on the floor. I really could dance
the night away, and occasionally I did at SCA events.
I wish my story had a happy ending, but the best I can manage is bittersweet. One September morning I couldn't bend my left knee. The orthopedist said "tendonitis" and prescribed exercises, ice and Ibuprofen. I was able to
resume class two weeks later, but the pain never quite went away. The following spring he said "chondromalacia." I could still dance, but grand plies were out, and I needed to spend even more time warming up before each class.
I got a new pair of ballet slippers, and they hurt. The wad of muscle at the ball of my left foot had atrophied and no longer provided much padding. The pleats in the slipper felt like sharp stones. My right knee, hitherto trouble-
free, became painful. My orthopedist prescribed more exercises, which didn't help. The semester eventually came that I didn't sign up for dance.
I don't blame ballet for these ailments; rather, dancing strengthened all the muscles and joints involved. I am sure that the cause of my pains is never walking normally most of my life.
I miss ballet. I have plenty else to keep myself busy -- books, music, botany, photography; worthy pursuits all -- but there is nothing like the tired, exhilarated feeling at the end of a good dance class.
About a year and a half ago, I sent the director of ballet at Friends University here in Wichita a small portfolio of my prints and asked if I could photograph rehearsals. He agreed, and I visit the FU studio about once a week
during the school year, camera and monopod in hand.
Update from Don (1/00): After several years of bringing my camera to the Friends University ballet
studio, I got fed up with merely photographing dance. Last fall (1999) I started taking class again, this time an adult beginners' class taught by Sharon Rogers of Rogers Ballet and the Friends U. faculty. It's gone surprisingly well. All the problems that caused me to quit ballet many years
ago are still present, but I have a better sense now of how far I can push myself and still walk the next day. In fact, aside from skipping the grand plies when my knees are acting up, I've been able to do everything asked of
me so far (albeit not always very well), and my knees usually feel better at the end of class than at the beginning.
Unsolicited testimonial: One recent development that has been a tremendous help is the Bloch no-lump slipper. I'm missing some natural padding in the ball of my left foot, and old-style slippers, e.g., Freed, had a lump right
where I really didn't need it. It was like dancing with a sharp stone in my shoe, and it did not get better with time. My new slippers, however, are a pleasure to wear, and I need only minimal extra padding to make my left foot
happy.
Last December I became the slightly bewildered husband of the pretty Val and the father of the suspiciously well-behaved Gabriel, Clayton, and Kylie in the
Friends University Nutcracker -- quite a shock for a wary bachelor. The performances went well and were a lot of fun, and I'll probably do it again. I'm now taking class twice a week. I feel as inept as ever, but even I can tell that I've made some progress.
The beginning of ballet was interesting. I did not know how to dress, or what to wear. I thought, ahhh, get some sweats....nope! Fortunately I visited a store in nearby Elyria where I met the owner (a fellow) who helped me by showing me various belts (I happen to like Capezio, padded black thong the best) and tights, and other dance pants. Some $150 later, I was ready -- but with great trepidation. I still have not worn the leotard he sold me. It is a men's, but looks, well, like my wife's.
The first night found me feeling a little like an ox, but a few
balancιs and chaines later, I felt free and alive and wonderful!! Of course, the next day I wondered who beat me up . . . especially the thighs. But through these past four months things have gone exceedingly well.
Remembering to take smaller steps, control and grace being foremost have helped -- together with the instructor, who is the best. Last week she illustrated moving turns (wow, what exhilarating fun), and some simple leaps with demi plie landings . . . most satisfying. The music we are
dancing to is "Love Changes Everything." Great stuff!!!
My wife has danced (tap mostly) for nine years, and we have only last year begun to dance together in duets. The most amazing benefits have accrued to us in all of our dancing through ballet: strength of arms, movement and grace, as well as more defined and coordinated action including the ability to use all of the dance floor. We are currently learning a tap duet to the song 'Rainbow On My Shoulder.'
By the way, ballet and the tighter-fitting clothing certainly have provided some degree of watching calories too. In fact, over the past year I have reduced my weight by about 30 pounds. That is a great side benefit of all this dance.
All my friends who used to play Sunday touch football and schoolyard basketball are no longer doing that. Dance has
provided an outstanding outlet for the energy that was expended in those sports. You know, playing football resulted in bumps, bruises and some soreness . . . but never quite the exhilaration, perspiration, and feeling that we get in ballet class.
So for anyone thinking of ballet, jump in -- both feet -- feel good about yourself and don't look back. My age, incidentally, is 47!! If this is possible for an old guy like me, anyone can feel the enjoyment and wonder of dance.
Update from George in an e-mail to me dated (9/98): My wife and I have enjoyed your newsletters . . . and she is still wearing your tee-shirt, and always receives comments about it. I began ballet last fall, through summer, and am beginning second year of ballet along with tap and musical production. I have now, in two years, lost about 50 pounds. Our ballet
class has mushroomed from five adults last year, and 12 during summer, to 18!!!!! There is hardly enough space to dance in the room: 17 women and myself. Our June show will be about 2 1/2 hours of ballet, tap and some
jazz. I will be tapping in two groups, dancing in the musical production (Blues Brothers medley) and of course the ballet, performed to "Music of the Night." We also
have a singing group that I'll be performing with. Never a dull moment!
Having played a lot of sport throughout my life, in particular football, or soccer, as the Americans like to say, I was looking for a different challenge. I was fed up with constantly picking up injuries on the football field and was wondering how much longer I would play before becoming badly injured.
I wanted a new form of exercise. Sure, I tried going to the gym and pedaling away for hours on cycling machines or running for ages staring at my own reflection but it was just too boring -- I needed something different. It wasn't until I bumped into a friend that I decided that I would try something that far too few men would dare to try -- ballet.
My friend had been doing ballet for quite a while and was clearly obsessed by it. She spoke of the physical and mental challenge and the great feeling it gave her to be at one with the music. This obsession fascinated me and I asked her if she thought I should give it a go. This
surprised her greatly, but she said that I should definitely go ahead and try it. I then grabbed the yellow pages and set about finding a studio nearby where I could start taking lessons.
Having then decided I was going to go ahead with trying ballet, it then took me about another six months (!) to actually go to a class! One minute I would be keen, the next too nervous to actually make a commitment! Was I too old? Would the girls in the class object to it? Would I embarrass myself?
Finally, after all this indecision, I was convinced by this very website to finally take the plunge. There were other people exactly the same as me! I found the fact that not only were there women my own age doing ballet, there were men, and that my fears were unfounded. So, with
this newly found confidence, I bought a pair of ballet shoes and tights and arranged my first class.
When I got to the dance studios, I was very nervous. There were a couple of classes going on, both of which were all women, which did not boost my already fragile confidence. One of the staff asked if she could help and I timidly announced that I would like to join the ballet class.
Her reaction was one of great enthusiasm which instantly made me feel better!
After spending 10 minutes or so fighting my way into my tights, I sheepishly walked into my new class, feeling highly conspicuous and as though my tights were about to fall down! As the class began, I quickly realised that I should have started ballet 20 years ago!! I was really
enjoying myself. My teacher (an American) was great and really supportive. The rest of the girls in the class are great too despite my sometimes being unable to grasp the more complex floor steps!!
Right now, I have had three lessons and am looking forward to keeping them up for a long time to come. OK, I'm still a beginner and I've got a long way to go, and I've got a lot of uncomfortable hours of stretching in front of me, but I'm enjoying myself - and that's what dance, sport or any pastime is all about. If anybody reads this, male or female, who can't decide whether to take the plunge, give it a try!! You really have got nothing to lose -- if I can do it, so can you.
Ballet and I were destined to meet in the twisting dance of fate, though,
unlike many adults who wish that they had begun as children and dream of
opportunity that passed them by, I think of coming to ballet at 33 as a
gift. It was forbidden to me as a child by a mother who wanted a girl, but
couldn't abide a boy in ballet tights. I was always small and none too
masculine or sporty, more of a loner. . . .
I loved to sing, and toured with small boychoirs. I rode horses. I dabbled in the martial arts, where I found I was very flexible and loved to be airborne -- to dance -- so my parents, ignoring a riding teacher's urging to place me in her sister's ballet class, rushed me into gymnastics training, where I developed a physical presence and strength, and more importantly, found that 'place' where I could thrive. I even joined an acrobatic dance troupe as an aerialist, as my gymnastics training became more advanced.
My favorite event was the rings, yet it was also to be my downfall, for in
the middle of a small competition, I was concentrating on nailing a new
dismount and forgot to let go as I hurled myself into the air, violently
tearing my left side from the connectors along my ribcage, and ending my
gymnastics career just as I was beginning to show promise.
I spent a few years in physical therapy, (only to break my tailbone twice!),
and, seeking adventure and a change, rode a horse across several European
countries, set up camp with a friend in an old near-abandoned castle for a
while, had lots of adventures, and in this time began to come to terms with
my self and my life. I began to enjoy singing again and to renew my voice
training, the light in what was for me a very depressing couple of years of
loneliness, in the wake of this friend's suicide, and tedious physical
therapy with slim hopes of ever returning to my aerial passions. I had
reinjured the same area upon trying prematurely to return to gymnastics.
I still find it hard to watch, as I doubt I will ever be able to return again to the joys of being 'upside down,' so it was time to find something else.
I moved home to take care of my mother, who had had a stroke, and later was
diagnosed with cancer. I ended up spending several years living with the
family. It was more of a retreat for me, and a family obligation, as we were
not on very good terms initially. I did not know what to expect, after all my
time away in travel, but we did manage a reconciliation of sorts before she
died. I was free.
So, it was Autumn, 1996, I had my music, and now I was ready, on the verge
of 33, to answer that nagging urge that was only growing stronger. I was
dying to dance, and was becoming bored with nightclub dancefloors -- too
small! I wanted to dance to my beloved classical music, so armed with a
homemade brace for my still weak and never healed left side, and at the
suggestion of the wonderful owner of the neighboring dance supply store, I
nervously ventured to The Dance Place to ask the director, Irene Weiss,
about taking a few private ballet classes to begin. I still look very much younger than my years, and androgynous, and was not always well received by the locals in and out of the arts community, even in this arts heavy town. Not so Irene, she welcomed me immediately, and within a week I had my first class.
She paired me up with instructor Pam Smith, and what a fabulous Halloween
introduction I received to the world of ballet! It certainly wasn't easy,
but she made it fun, and I began to see that I could do this for the rest of
my life. What had my mother been worried about? Ballet is not for pansies. Here I was, still very strong from gymnastics, though less flexible due to the injury, yet finding that ballet places a different kind of demand on the
muscles and that I had to rework my entire body. Now that is a challenge!
I still schedule those classes with Pam Smith whenever we can find the time,
to work on new steps and combinations, and especially the basics, the
details of technique so crucial to a good foundation, and 'men's steps.' Her
creative, effective imagery and pointers have really made a difference in
body awareness and technique.
In November, I joined Ramona Preston's intro class, and found again another
wonderful teacher. I had really found the right studio, the classes were
small and thorough, and I was now taking three classes a week, and craving more. I was the only male in the class, but Ramona took the time to show me where men's technique may differ from women's, and was always challenging me, with barreless barres, demanding our best at all times, with patience and a keen eye that does not allow the slightest cheat all the while keeping her (and
our) sense of humour. I was hooked.
Thanks to this solid early training, I was soon ready to try some classes at
more challenging advanced beginner level. Denise Collins' Saturday morning classes, very popular in this area, and yet another gem at The Dance Place actually had me, a long dedicated night owl and late sleeper, rising at 7 am on a Saturday to take class. . . and, soon came the summer evenings of adult classes at three levels with Susan Duffy and James Franklin at Ballet New England. I have fallen in love with ballet, and cannot imagine life without classes. There are even a few other male students at Ballet New England, though The Dance Place is still stuck with only me
Encouraged by teachers and fellow students, I was soon flinging myself about
in classes a bit faster and more difficult than I felt ready for, but I managed to keep up most of the time, in spite of my utter lack of a sense of left and
right :). Here my gymnastics strength base served me well, and my
flexibility was coming back, abeit sloooowly. The 'panic attacks' and
looks of abject horror were not as frequent when faced with a very fast and
complex combination. And the turnout is actually coming along, since I have
changed my workouts to ballet friendly bodywork. Even my left side, though
stiff often still, is beginning to come around and catch up to the good
side, and I have seen more improvement through ballet for ten months than
through two years of physical therapy.
My general dyslexic lack of a sense of direction, (as in the old Benny
Hill show, I often find myself moving boldly across the stage, the wrong
way!), old-habits-die-hard karate hands/ring grabbers, and a bit of nervous tension that inhibits my expression and technique continue to plague me, though I have noticed gradual and steady improvements. With patience and awareness even they will come around, I am assured.
So that is my story: how I came to be a 33-year-old ballet student,
fanatically showing up for class four to six days a week, and working as hard as I have ever worked, yet having more fun than I had ever imagined I could.
Being a male adult ballet student, and one of only four in my two schools,
hasn't fazed me at all. If only there were enough adult male students to
form a men's class, what fun that would be! Even the clothing isn't as torturous as I had been told. Because of my gymnastics background, I am used to wearing tights. Hell, I even found a dance belt without the thong back . . . whew! I don't need to jump that high(!), and I can manage a high vocal range without any artificial help from that!
I am not as familiar as I would like to be with the male side of ballet
technique, and I will not hog class time with endless questions to my
teachers, but the only book I have heard of on male ballet technique,
Ballet Technique for the Male Dancer, is apparently out of print and
unavailable everywhere I have looked.
Fortunately, the teachers I study with will often point out subtle differences in male technique as opposed to female. I do have high arches and narrow feet for a male, and really good achilles stretch for jumping, but with my uneven curly toes I am only glad that I will not be going en pointe!
My friends, male and female alike, think it is great that I do ballet, and I
have even gotten two to begin ballet: one female friend, and one male actor
friend. Though most of my male friends wouldn't don the tights themselves,
mostly for vanity reasons, which I find silly, for when in a class with a
dozen others in leotards and tights, self-consciousness seems to fly out the
window.
Stereotypes die hard. When I see what ballet is doing for my body . . . everything else is irrelevant, not to mention the high I feel after class . . . . I am certainly not the largest man, but no one yet has called me pansy or anything close, though I would just laugh at them and challenge them to try a class :).
I guess, in closing, it would have been nice to have had the opportunity to
begin ballet as a young boy, but I feel that I found ballet when I was ready
to find ballet, for now I can find what I need in the dance itself, with no
need to put career pressures on myself.
I find that the other adults in my classes share the same obsession, deep
love for the dance, along with some pretty amazing talent for their
'advanced' ages.
I certainly haven't noticed my body slowing down yet, in fact, thanks to
gymnastics background and now ballet, I am stronger and more supple at 33
than I have ever been, and this danseur-in-training isn't about to slow down.
In fact, I am planning on taking on flamenco as soon as the opportunity
arises. . . hmmmm . . . I have always loved the music, and I have a closet full of those white ruffly poet's shirts from my Shakespearean acting days . . . .
Update (9/98):
One of my teachers has been urging me to seek out more avenues in which to continue to push myself, so I will be
looking around to see what else is available in my area, though I still get so much out of the classes I presently take at The Dance Place and Ballet New England.
I am currently more flexible and strong than I was even in gymnastics, and cannot get enough of ballet! I haven't been able to fit Flamenco dance into my schedule recently but plan to try again in the Fall . . . . I like the
contrast, the passion is different than that of ballet, more earthy and fiery.
Return to Blue Diamond Dance homepage. |
|
Dance Teachers
Stress
Breathing
Dance Attire
Subscribers Page
In the News
Chat
Dancer's Diet
Dance Oracle
Dancing Dads
Ballet Newsletter!
Dance Quote-of-the-Day
Moi
Flexibility
Dance Links
Blue Diamond Store
Women
Dance & ADD
Doctors/Therapists
I hope this page will become a place where men who began to dance as adults can tell their stories, and learn from each other. Or at least have that 'aha!' experience, or laugh wryly when they see some other guy has already been in the same place.
If you'd like to exchange messages with other adult dance students, both male and female, visit the Blue Diamond Coffeehouse, our message board, where topics of technique, diet, dancewear, pointe, etc., etc. are discussed.
If you'd like to add your own story, please e-mail me with your experiences as you'd like to see them printed on this page.
I reserve the right to edit for readability, flow, and informational (rather than salacious) content. Let me know if it's okay to include your name and/or e-mail address as a closer.
If you're story's already here, we do appreciate hearing your updates from time to time. Let us know how you're progressing.
Taking pictures is a poor substitute for dancing, but at least I am among dancers, and I have printed many striking images -- dancers are wonderful photographic subjects.
There is a possibility that some of my pictures may be exhibited in the hallways of the fine arts building.
The tap production team consists of 20 tap dancers ages 13 to 60. We tour the greater Cleveland area doing shows for fundraisers, opening acts for popular musical artists, and competitions. In November 1997, we competed at the I Love Dance competition in Pittsburgh, and were awarded first place and best-of-show trophy for tap production -- what fun!! My wife and I also were awarded Best Overall Over 40 trophy for our duet, done to Natalie Cole's "This Can't Be Love" and choreographed by Arlene Cassara, our dance instructor and a most amazingly talented woman.