Vaganova, bitches!

So my regular teacher, Sazerac  got a gig in another state and left for a couple weeks. I guess she’s, like, too busy pursuing her lifelong dream of dancing professionally to teach me how to plié. What ev’s!

She encouraged us all to continue with ballet while she’s gone,  and since I am a big nerd for ballet I totally did a google search and found all the adult beginner/open level classes nearby. The following Tuesday night had me heading out for Adult Open Level Ballet.

(After calling ahead to confirm that Open Level includes beginners, of course)

An ancient Russian dude named Smirnoff teaches this class. He has not one, but two canes! Smirnoff caned his way to the front of the studio, parked it, and called me over to explain myself. What is my level of experience? With whom do I study? Luckily I had recently googled Sazerac,  and was able to throw out words like Russian! Danish!, and most importantly: Beginner!

He said that was all fine, that his father had been a ballet master (in the caveman days) with the Royal Danish Ballet, but that he had trained most extensively in Russia in the vaganova style, and that the class was strictly vaganova.

Um, ok?

He assured me that I would do fine, because I “look very nice.”

I have no idea what this means. I look like a kind person? I look like I have strong calves? I look like I have nineteen dollars in my pocket? ‘Cause, btw, the class cost nineteen buckaroos, which is a tad steep for something I’d like to do twice a week that doesn’t even involve food. Just saying.

So Smirnoff tells me to stand between two regulars so I can follow them, and we’re off. With in five minutes I’m sweating! I’m dying! My legs are shaking! And I’m following two amazing towers of fiercesome ballet-ness, who have neat things like leg warmers, and chiffon wrap skirts, and Obvious Years Of Training. Smirnoff occasionally calls me out for things like, “my dear, when we walk, one foot must pass the other, yes?”

I seriously, for reals thought that Smirnoff would call me over after class and say that I was not yet ready for Adult Open Level, and that I should come back in a year. Or maybe two. But instead, after the reveránce, he thanked me for coming, said that he would love to see me in class again, and that I could tell my regular teacher that she is training me well.

Hooray!

Advertisements

About adultbeginner

Had my first ballet class Ever at the advanced age of thirty-two. Yikes.
This entry was posted in Technique and Class and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Vaganova, bitches!

  1. Amy says:

    I just started reading your blog and so far really enjoy it! I’m a 42-year-old beginner myself and last night just took my first ballet class since almost 20 years ago and am really sore.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s