Life behind barres: a ballet memoir By Leila Lois (she/her)
I’ve danced since I can remember, yet my relationship with the ballet world has been checkered. I adore the romance of ballet, the connection with other dancers and the discipline it has given me, but I’m not a fan of the historical cultural imbalances it has engendered. These are not necessary or part of ballet as it has evolved in the past few decades; we need to embrace a new, inclusive understanding of the art form.
From Kanye’s “Runaway” to Taylor Swift’s “Shake it Off”, ballet is portrayed regularly in music videos, cinema, and shows up in the recent ‘ballet-core’ trend in fashion.
There are several tropes that commonly sashay into pop culture when it comes to ballet, one is the ‘tortured ballerina’. Darren Aronofsky’s film Black Swan is a perfect example of the ‘ballet dancer as a tragic mess’ cliché. Struggling with an eating disorder, exploitative relationships, and bullying in ballet companies is something not far from the experiences of a few of my friends who went into élite level professional ballet. But it is not why we dance, and I fear these portrayals reify trauma. Ballet is a romantic art form as well as a physically demanding and visually stunning athletic practice. I’ll never forget at 13, when I was hung up on perfecting a travelling step (a cabriole), so anxious I was almost in tears, and the guest teacher took me aside, imploring me to remember why I started ballet in the first place—because I loved it. Since being a ballet teacher as an adult, I have kept this memory with me, and endeavour to bring out the joy in the people I teach, focussing on why they might want to dance in the first place. For self-expression and community, not competitiveness and self-critique, two things which are the thieves of joy. Ballet is changing and more hopeful for ensuing generations than the myopic church hall ballet and élite conservatoire ballet I learned growing up. I was a darkskinned dancer in an era before diverse-looking ballerinas were celebrated. I can’t change this, but I can celebrate the pluralistic direction ballet is heading now.
20
Living beyond barres
Since studying postgraduate dance, my mind was opened to contemporary dance and away from ballet for a few years. I really enjoyed this extension in my understanding of what dance could look like and have since created choreographies and produced shows that have been staged in Wellington and Melbourne. While I still love ballet, the ‘classical western’ dance form - I’m going to RNZB’s Lightscapes, opening this week- I have had to open my mind and let go of my perfectionist traits in order to fall back in love with it afresh, after a period of disillusionment seeing friends struggling under the seemingly impossible expectations of company directors and mentors. In fact, this season of ballets from RNZB are contemporary bills, featuring female and Māori choreographers, showing more inclusivity than years past. Since the #MeToo movement and Black Lives Matter movement, the body conformism and bullying that used to be accepted in the ballet industry is working its way out towards a healthier celebration of diverse bodies and inclusion. There is still a fair way to go, but I feel happy now to teach and dance ballet and honour the enjoyment we can get out of it, without the pressure. Keep dancing x
If you’d ever like to try ballet, feel free to drop me a line @leilaloisdances_ for tips.