Back to Smirnoff’s class after my long travel/injury/travel induced absence.
He says he is delighted to see me back! And that I look brown!
I tell him that I took a few classes in NYC. He wants me to name names. Where did I take classes, who taught them? I tell him. He says Harumph.
Part way through barre he calls out to me that the one teacher I mentioned, he must be Russian. So this man, his barre must be similar, yes?
I pause, and say, “He didn’t like arm movements.”
There is a collective gasp from the room, and Lillet turns around from the barre in front of me and says, “But I love the Russian arm movements?! They’re sooooooo beautiful!!”
I tell her I totally agree.
We turn back to the barre to move on but Smirnoff is not ready. “This man,” Smirnoff announces. “He sounds Roumanian. Yes, he is Roumanian. Do you know, my dear, there has only been one famous Roumanian ballet dancer? Only one. Ever. Not like where I grew up, which has produced five of the most famous dancers, all from one school.”
Satisfied, he pressed play on his boombox and we move on to battement jetés.


About adultbeginner

Had my first ballet class Ever at the advanced age of thirty-two. Yikes.
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