Central Pennsylvania Youth Ballet

In this post I’m going to write a little about Central Pennsylvania Youth Ballet (CPYB) and why I believe it’s a uniquely valuable cultural and educational institution. The immediate stimulus for this brief reflection is simply, as so often the case, my morning walk with Waldo. While leisurely following our habitual path around the neighborhood one day last week, I was offered a stark reminder of what an awkward time early adolescence can be for many teens. On our way home Waldo and I passed a neighborhood girl who was walking to the local middle school. Shoulders slumped, head down and generally moving with a gait that suggested extreme discomfort, my neighbor seemed to want nothing more than to disappear. I’m no expert, but “body language” is often an eloquent indicator of one’s general state. In an article published in Psychology Today, popular author Joe Navarro, who does claim expertise on this subject, suggests that one of the things parents should teach their children about body language is that “What your body says to me is more accurate than what you say and it speaks to me before you do. So always be aware that often we can tell what you are thinking or feeling before you speak.” (Note the strange mind/body separation Navarro’s statement presupposes; maybe he should take some dance classes...) Yes, we all know that a gesture can communicate more forcefully than words. Precisely one of the great difficulties of adolescence is the frequency with which body language escapes our conscious control. Fortunately, the awkwardness and insecurity of adolescence passes and most of us seem to muddle through it and survive into adulthood. But it’s not easy. (The inspirational and popular video project It Gets Better is no doubt the most poignant contemporary example of this vital message.)  And here’s where CPYB came into my thinking: how fortunate, I said to myself, that two of my daughters have had some dance education and been rewarded with a “body awareness” whose core benefits apply most valuably and enduringly outside the dance studio and far from the performance stage. I have no dance education myself, but as a casual observer there is no mystery: from the most basic notion of good posture to the subtleties of gesture and eye contact, ballerinas are in command of their physical presence in a way that communicates confidence, connectedness and ease of being. Let’s not underestimate the value of having these particular qualities.

            Anyone who has taken beginning Spanish will recall that the language of Cervantes has two verbs that mean “to be,” ser and estar.  Mastering the usage of these verbs takes much practice, but the general concept, in simple terms, is that ser refers to inherent existence and estar refers to presence or condition.  So, in Spanish you can know how to estar, but not how to ser, since in the latter there is no knowing, you just are or aren’t.  You exist or you don’t, there’s no skill involved. And now to my point: one of the truly great compliments one can be paid in Spanish is to be told that you sabe estar. It’s like being told you know how to act in any given setting, but it’s more than that, for it entails having all the attributes so often observed in dancers: poise, ease of being, self-assuredness, awareness.  These qualities are essential if one wants to estar a la altura de las circunstancias or, as we might say in English, to rise to the occasion. Dancers, literally and figuratively, know how to rise to the occasion.

            It seems that when discussing the benefits of training in classical ballet, fans of this art are inclined, quite reasonably, to point to the great discipline it instills in its students and practitioners. Indeed, I have observed repeatedly the remarkable discipline that typically accompanies ballet dancers. And I’m not referring here to my daughters, although I believe they, too, have these qualities: I see it again and again with my Dickinson students. Almost without exception, those students of mine who have dedicated some extended time to ballet are well organized, have no difficulty completing assignments, and stay focused in class. These anecdotal observations are confirmed by much research. The key is focus, an ability to pay attention. Excessive speed and excessive choice are central characteristics of contemporary life, and so it stands to reason that an ability to stay focused affords one huge advantages. Educators talk often about the importance of changing how and what we teach to prepare our students for success in a fast-changing world.  We may want to reconsider the value of simply filling our classrooms with lots of technology. Let’s keep this in mind: a recent study whose results were published in the journal Pediatrics found that “the greater a child's attention problems at age 6, the more likely that child will perform poorly on tests of math and reading in the last few years of high school.”  Finding a direct correlation like that in a rigorous study is significant and we should take notice: young children must be able to focus, and in today’s world it seems to be an ever growing challenge. So, my advice to parents of young children in the Carlisle area: send your kids to CPYB starting at a very young age. It doesn’t matter if they show no interest in dance, just have them do it for a couple or few years, then let them decide if they want to continue or not. After two or three years the biggest prize, the ability to focus, is already safely hardwired in their still developing brains.

            It takes many, many thousands of hours of formal training to prepare for a career as a professional ballet dancer. It is a tremendously difficult, highly demanding path. And it’s hyper competitive, especially for the girls: for every young dancer fortunate enough to be invited to join a major company there are hundreds, even thousands, who share the same aspiration and don’t make it. Dancers at CPYB have a distinct advantage: no other ballet school in the country (actually, in the world) located in a community comparable in size to Carlisle has a record even remotely approaching CPYB’s in terms of preparing future professional dancers. Stephen Manes, in his recently published book The Land of Ballet, refers to CPYB as a “ballerina factory.” Although the metaphor has some dehumanizing connotations, Manes meant it as a great compliment to CPYB and a tribute to the inspired teaching of founding Artistic Director Marcia Dale Weary. Hundreds of CPYB students have gone on to professional careers in ballet, and many have had or are now in the midst of brilliant careers at major companies.

            Any community our size would be proud to be home to a great school like Dickinson College. In this regard Carlisle is quite fortunate. Everyone knows that in addition to Dickinson, Carlisle is also home to the Dickinson School of Law and the U.S. Army War College. That’s a lot of higher education for a community our size. Yet, it’s truly unfortunate that there is not much greater awareness regarding CPYB’s exceptional place in the world of ballet. With all due respect to Dickinson College, where I’ve been happily employed for over 20 years, CPYB is not to ballet what Dickinson is to higher education; CPYB is the Harvard or Princeton of ballet education.  So, carlislians, let’s take pride in our ballet school and performing company: they know about it in San Francisco, Boston, and New York; they know about it Madrid, in Tokyo... let’s know about it here at home.

The best way to learn about CPYB is to go see one of their performances. And it is as a performing company that CPYB shines as a stellar cultural institution, putting on several times a year amazing productions of professional quality right here in our area. I’ve been attending CPYB performances for many years now and, frankly, at the beginning I could not have imagined that they could keep getting more and more impressive.  But they do. Their shows at the Whitaker Center and Hershey Theatre really do compare favorably to what is done by professional companies. Giselle is coming up, April 21 and 22. Don’t miss it.

Nutcracker

This year's CPYB production of The Nutcracker was unbelievable. Too wonderful to describe.

Here and gone

This past weekend we had everyone under one roof. Cristina arrived Thursday evening on a train, having just returned from her trip to France, with a quick visit to San Sebastian included. Unfortunately, an intense thunder storm left trees fallen on the tracks west of Philadelphia, delaying things a few hours and so she missed that evening's ballet. Alma drove down Friday. We had about thirty-six hours together. What a wonderful feeling! And so fleeting. It's all so fleeting. But we have these cyclical tendencies that keep us going, and thankfully we get to gather again this weekend in Rhode Island. Well, we're not sure yet about Daniela, but I'm hopeful. Very early Sunday morning we drove her up to NY for her summer program at School of American Ballet. This just hours after a very intense two performance day of dancing to finish the June Series. Spectacular! And about the same time we were leaving, Alma and Cristina were heading back to Ithaca. So the house is feeling pretty empty this week.

It was interesting to see how they are set up at School of American Ballet. It's all under one roof on W. 65th St., right next to Alice Tully Hall, where Daniela had her great Swan experience as a nine-year old. Now she is in a double room on the 17th floor, with views of Lincoln Center below and the Hudson River just a few blocks to the west. Her suite mates have come from all over the country– California, Ohio, Florida... and two of her friends from Víctor Ullate's ballet in Madrid are also there. At the same time we were getting Daniela settled in, a ballet legend, Darci Kistler, was giving her farewell performance to bring to a close a long, long career (30 years!) with New York City Ballet. (Walking across Lincoln Center Plaza we ran into one of Daniela's CPYB mates, now an apprentice with the company; she was getting ready to perform as part of the corps de ballet.) In any case, here's part of what Times critic Alastair Macaulay had to say in his summary of Ms Kistler's career: "Since then (1992) her career has been a long, slow fade... Her pale autumn has lasted far longer than her bright spring and summer combined, and I cannot see that since 1992 she has been a good role model for the young. Often her mane of hair has been a mere shtick. Her solo dancing in the Stravinsky ballets was wretched, flicking lightly at steps that require a rigor she lost long ago." Ouch!! Makes you think that maybe fleeting is not so bad! (In the wonderful photo by Rosalie O'Connor, Daniela with her partner, Antonio Anacan, in Raymonda Variations.)

Luck

Last week there was an interesting article in the New York Times about some kids from the US who have gone to Moscow to study ballet at the school of the famed Bolshoi ballet. (Read the article here.) How times have changed! But in fact, these kids are not the first to do this. Way back in 1996 CPYB student Vanessa Zahorian left Carlisle to go study at the Kirov. She has gone on to have a stellar career at San Francisco ballet. I am always intrigued by people with particularly strong passions. One kid, Joy, put it quite plainly, "I want to be Russian." I can't identify with that one, but I definitely could identify when I read that she burst into tears the first time she saw Natalia Osipova on video. Sometimes beauty is just that powerful. (Osipova is currently in New York for a stint with American Ballet Theatre. Read Alistair MacCaulay's rave review of her performance Tuesday night here.) In any case, regarding Daniela's passion, it seems like really good luck that we are in Carlisle, where the passion is so conveniently engaged. Nonetheless, it can get complicated. I just read a marvelous essay by yet another CPYB dancer from Carlisle, Abi Stafford, a principal dancer with New York City Ballet. She writes in Pointe Magazine about competitiveness, professional anxieties, and how she's learned to manage it all. And I feel confirmed: from the very beginning I've tried to impress upon Daniela that it's about having fun. (She's also taught me the very same lesson.) Fun can be very serious business, can involve hardship, sacrifice, and a lot of pain, but we need to keep coming back to that joy and, I think, to the sharing.

(Luck is tricky to define. Well, perhaps not, but it is complicated when we try to determine how it applies in our lives. Sometimes just about everything can seem like chance. At the other extreme, I often hear said "there are absolutely no coincidences." It's usually affirmed by people who believe in an all-powerful, participatory God. God as Director. I don't believe in that one.)

I don't know if this constitutes a passion, but it sure could be fun: we make an obscenely huge paella, then get a crowd, all nicely equipped with thick oven mitts, and we hoist the paella/throne and procession it to... to some huge cathedral? We've had the bread and the fish, now it's time for a paella miracle. (In the image, above, the making of the world's largest paella, near Madrid. Paella for 110,000! Check out the big equipment!) If I could manage to make a very large paella, maybe not for hundreds of thousands, but, let's say, maybe for a thousand (I've reached 100), and got several people to help parade it in a sacred culinary procession, would that be luck? I don't know, but it would certainly be lucky.

Youth, Divine Treasure

So begins Rubén Darío's wonderful poem, "Song of Spring in Autumn" ("Canción de primavera en otoño", published in 1905 in one of the XX century's greatest volumes of poetry, Cantos de vida y esperanza). But, ah, the second line: "you're already leaving, never to return!" Thankfully, there are always young people around, and that's the great advantage of my work: always being surrounded by youth. Like a bottomless treasure pit.

And it's certainly not just the poets celebrating youth: last night we watched the new film version of Jerome Robbins' 1958 masterpiece, "Export NY: Opus Jazz." The film was a project conceived by young New York City Ballet dancers Ellen Bar and Sean Suozzi, and featured Carlisle-area native and CPYB alum Adam Hendrickson. A great creative triumph for youth! Even the film directors are very young and I thought they did superb work. The film was presented on PBS as part of their Dance in America series. See this film!

So newness is on my mind this early spring morning. Newness and optimism, even as the drumbeat of violence continues unabated: today it's news of children (children!) in Philadelphia assaulting homeless people. The first stanza of Darío's beautiful poem:

¡Juventud, divino tesoro,

ya te vas para no volver!

Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro,

y a veces lloro sin querer...

In the photo, Jerome Robbins, young at heart.

Cracking Nuts

The Nutcracker season is over. What performances! Daniela was amazing. I think she saved the best for last. Yesterday's show for a full house at the elegant and regal Hershey Theatre was truly splendid. There were many moving moments (no pun intended), both on and off stage. One of my favorites: after one of the shows Daniela is heading back to the lobby for the photo session. A woman approaches her with her young daughter, three or four years old. Oh, can my girl say hello, etc. Of course... Daniela bends over and tries to engage the tot. The little girl is literally, literally speechless. She just stares, unable to get a sound out, overcome, perhaps, at being face to face with this princess/fairy/dream. How does this happen? The beautiful dancing, of course. The lighting, the tutu, crown, shiny jewels... And the music! Without the music none of this is possible. The music creates the narrative, brings sense to the incredible world of childhood imagination. The music makes truth of the fantasy. This morning in the Times there is a very interesting article by Alastair Macaulay on the Nutcracker, not a review, but a reflection on the work itself and its strange place in American ballet. It is, after all, the cash cow and thus easy to criticize as wildly over-performed, often quite poorly. Art moves forward. The Nutcracker is stagnant. So how can ballet advance when we're stuck on the same old ballet, year after year? Sarah Kaufman, reviewing in the Washington Post Pennsylvania Ballet's performance of Balanchine's Nutracker hits the nail on the head: "Despite the expense and the monumental effort ballet troupes take on to produce a run of shows -- however lucrative they may be -- I suspect that the faux snow and candy fantasia don't do as much as we might wish to hook ticketholders on the art form itself. For if that were the case, after all these years of "Nutcrackers," we'd be experiencing a ballet boom to light up the sky." But Macaulay reminds us that this is not the fault of the ballet itself. And I certainly agree with his belief that Tchaikovsky's s score really is a musical masterpiece. And so is Balanchine's choreography. (Macaulay's article is here.) And let's not forget: Central Pennsylvania is the only youth ballet anywhere authorized to perform the Balanchine version of the Nutcracker. (I was going to say non-professional company, but CPYB is pretty darn professional. And speaking of professionals, Jens Weber was magnificent as Daniela's Cavalier. Jens, wherever your are, thank you so much for being such a wonderful dancer! And for not dropping my girl!) Jens has danced with companies around the world.

The Dance

Always amazing. This past weekend we had the pleasure of watching Daniela dance in The Nutcracker. On Saturday she danced the role of Dew Drop and on Sunday she was the Sugar Plum. (She also did Snow, and Flowers in one of the shows.) Stunning. She's really got the gift. I could go on and on, but I won't. Grace, speed, energy, beauty. It all combines to create magic. Attendance was great; all three shows were either sold out or very close to it. For Sunday's show they had to add three rows of chairs above the orchestra pit. It always impresses me how hard these kids work: a full dress rehearsal on Thursday, then five performances Friday thru Sunday, but Monday it was right back to work, to prepare for this weekend's performances at Hershey Theatre. (And there's no break from school.) Daniela's partner for the grand pas de deux was 17 year-old Devon Carbone, "on loan" from New York's Ballet Academy East. He did beautifully. (And he didn't drop her!) In Hershey, the Cavalier will be danced by Jens Weber, who has danced with Víctor Ullate in Madrid, in Berlin, and in Monte Carlo with Les Ballets de Monte Carlo. In the photo, the auditorium at the Whitaker Center in Harrisburg.

Two Sugar Plums (and I prefer the one on the right!)

On Saturday evening in NY we went up to Lincoln Center to see New York City Ballet's annual production of the Nutcracker. The renovations at the State Theater were for the most part not obvious. The biggest changes that I could see were the new seats and the addition of two aisles in the orchestra. Before the show Cristina and I were discussing the ethics of spending over a hundred million dollars on renovating a two thousand seat auditorium. She is very opposed to this kind of spending, even if it is from private donations. I see her point, but it did not prevent me from enjoying the show. We had the added good fortune of getting to see CPYB alum Ashley Bouder dance the role of Sugar Plum Fairy. She is one of the world's truly great ballerinas and on this occasion gave an inspired performance. The other dancers were good, but we did not sense the same excitement that comes through with Bouder. And the kids in the first act were not so great, not as sharp as here at CPYB (really!) Arrangements had been made for Daniela to meet with Ms Bouder after the show, as Daniela will be performing the same role here in Harrisburg and Hershey. The exact same choreography. So after the curtain came down, Asun and Daniela went backstage and Daniela got to compare notes with one of the masters. She also got to say hello to some other dancers from Carlisle who are in the company. A fun evening on the heels of a full day. (More on that in a separate entry.)

Arabesques

I don't know how the arabesque position in ballet came to be called such, but it makes perfect sense to me. The word means "in the Arabic style" and is most commonly used to refer to the repetition of geometric forms commonly observed in Islamic art. Think of the Alhambra! (The photo above is an image from a ceramic tile in the Alhambra. Star of David?) Well, I don't know that it makes any dance sense, but it sure makes metaphysical sense. Me explico: it seems to me that Islamic artists, in their insistent repetition of form, express a desire for infinity. It is, of course, an illusion. Or not? Here's the paradox: can we, if only for an instant, experience infinity? Which is to say, of course, immortality. It would certainly seem that the briefer the instant, the further we get from infinity. Alas, perhaps this is our error. Some instants are very, very intense, for lack of a better word. Transcendent? We transcend time. Our limits. After all, isn't this what happens in love? We experience, oh so fleetingly, atemporality, an intimation of immortality? (Billy baby, Oh Joy! Yes, there is a time when we are "Apparell'd in celestial light.") Such is life: these celestial dances are but brief, but we want more, and so we wish to see the dance go and on. I fear my ridiculous yearning for the never-ending tie ball game is related to this madness. Back to the ballet arabesque. There is a famous one at the end of the grand pas de deux in The Nutcracker. It's the culminating moment of that grand adagio when the music goes up, up, up... and stops. Hold it right there. The arabesque! It can only be a moment, but it's an instant I want to be held forever. The brief pause in the music, the ballerina transcending space in a flash of generous, gravity-defying equilibrium. (In the narrative, it's the moment when she screams: yes, I'm in love, all is good!) Plenitude? (I'm pretty illiterate when it comes to music, but if you ask me, Ravel's Bolero is an early example of the Post Modern sensibility: the self-conscious repetition takes this illusion to an extreme, leading to its inevitable crescendo of chaos...) But back to our world: the sun comes up over the Mediterranean. For a second it hovers, a beautiful globe, en pointe, bowing on the horizon. (Welcome to the universe, life goes on...) Hold it right there! Islamic artists: I share your pain. Let's pretend: repeat, repeat, repeat... on, and on, and on... Late, very late, one fall night Carlton Fisk, a big New Englander with an Islamic sensibility, hit a high, high fly ball (not really clobbered because he came around a little too fast and didn't completely center the fat part of the bat on the ball, but that's not important), this is it, the game, it seems everything, here... is it going to stay fair or go foul? The Question! Fair or foul, fair or foul... forever and ever. It's only a moment. Who cares! (Well, Carlton cared, he waved the damn thing fair, but that's another story...) For that too brief an instant father and son are absolutely tuned in to the same purpose, the same emotion, the same, shared anticipation of joy. Why does it end?

Improbabilities

This morning at breakfast we were going over schedules and plans for the next couple of days and Daniela's plans, unsurprisingly, include activities with other ballerinas. This led to Asun and I briefly reminiscing about some of the many young dancers who have come and gone over the past several years. Some were very talented girls who, for one reason or another, stopped dancing. And that got me thinking about how improbable the course of our lives are, regardless of the direction they take. Is a life ever really predictable? Our time here can unfold in so many different ways, or so it seems. Yes, no doubt one can quickly slide into fruitless ponderations on fate, will, etc. How do we end up where we end up? Yesterday a former professional dancer who I recently met asked me if Daniela was going to be a professional ballerina. How should I know? How can she know? First, other interests, other passions, may emerge. Current passions can fade. And even if the goal remains, our most hoped for results very often do not materialize. And as Daniela pointed out recently, status and success at CPYB is not, as the investment people warn us, "a guarantee of future performance." Or something like that. This is certainly true. On the other hand, yesterday I received the Winter Season brochure from NY City Ballet and glancing at the page that lists the company members I found myself checking off some of the names, "CPYB, CPYB, CPYB, CPYB..." There are several. More interestingly, and an endearing example of how, sometimes, an improbable path can play out in a hoped for way, was the story I read about ballerina Tina LeBlanc, a CPYB alumna, on the occasion of her farewell gala at San Francisco Ballet. What a career! And what a ballerina: she visited CPYB a few years ago and Daniela got to perform before her on the same program. So I got to see her dance for five or ten minutes, but that was enough: sometimes beauty is such that it can just about make you faint if you have not already been overcome by tears. There's a word for that... Anyway, she is no doubt one of the world's great ballerinas, and a real inspiration for Daniela. And a beautiful story. Read the article from the LA Times. (In the photo, a final curtain call from Tina LeBlanc.)

Tilting at Windmills?

It's been a very busy week, but I guess they all are. There won't be any let up until I get through Semana Poética at the end of October. At the moment my mind is on the relationship between poetry and painting. We'll be considering this in my literature course soon, mainly in the context of the Spanish Civil War and its aftermath. So we'll talk about some poems by Rafael Alberti dedicated to Velázquez, Goya, and Picasso, and we'll talk about Guernica and some of what has been written about that iconic work. If I can help my students become more aware of some of the multitude of dialogues a work invites them to participate in, between artists, between artists and other works of art, between the work and what readers/viewers have already experienced in other works of art, etc., then I will feel I've been successful. Of course, I can only be aware of their awareness if they are able to articulate something about the dialogues they are hearing. I hope I can help them in that regard.

I guess I was thinking about something similar this morning when I was considering what I have observed regarding the development of ballerinas. In the process I've learned a little, very little, but a little, about ballet as an art form. Good dialogues require that the participants speak the same language, and preferably with a high degree of proficiency. The language of ballet is a demanding one and is acquired only after many years of extremely rigorous training. It was in that context that I read a policy statement in the CPYB student handbook titled "CPYB's Rising Stars Philosophy." The text outlines quite succinctly, no doubt mainly for parents, the school's philosophy regarding student progress and how that progress may relate to performance opportunities. Ability, hard work, dedication, and perseverance are essential prerequisites. But they are no guarantee that they will result in the hoped for performance opportunities! In our touchy-feely, don't tread on my self-esteem society, this is a bold statement. And a refreshingly honest one! The artistic director has many, many considerations to make, and, let's not forget, decisions regarding individual casting are made in the context of what is best for the work. In short, it's not about individuals. Learning to deal with disappointment is a hard lesson. I was reminded of this when Asun related to me how she witnessed a sad moment: a young student in bitter tears after learning she had not been promoted to the next level. Oouch! But if that little girl can recover, and understand that the dialogue she wants to be a part of simply demands more training, then she'll have acquired an invaluable lesson. She may conclude the effort is not worth it--that's fine, and is in no way a defeat. The defeat comes when you stop dreaming. (But, as Antonio Machado so beautifully shows us, over and over: dream awake!) There are an awful lot of big dreams in the heads of those young dancers. Every day they see the photos of the ones who made it adorning the walls. The stars! The big names. Inspiring. And maybe intimidating. It can be a harsh place sometimes, no doubt, just as Víctor Ullate's school in Madrid can be an unforgiving environment. And so the faculty at CPYB make, I believe, quite commendable efforts to be honest: no false promises, the dream is not going to work out for everyone. But the effort expended, the invaluable discipline acquired, may just help more than one kid realize bigger, more important dreams.

Maybe we're all just tilting at windmills. And let's remember: Don Quixote's victory came late in life, very late, when he put his feet on the ground and realized it was fine, indeed a blessing, just to be Alonso Quijano.

(Above, a photo I took this past spring; a couple of windmills in La Mancha that were likely around in Cervantes' day.)

Let's get working

May 1st. Workers' Day! So let's talk about work. This morning there is an interesting article in the Times by David Brooks, who I typically find rather pedantic. He writes about genius and the common notion, now supported by recent research, that talent really is, after all, mainly a question of hard work and practice. This is the third or fourth article I've read in the past several weeks on this new research. So, kiddies, no excuses. Get working. Brooks refers to a tennis academy in Russia where the students practice rallies without a ball. The idea is to get the student to slow down and focus exclusively on technique. Brooks points out that "in this way, performers delay the automatizing process. The mind wants to turn deliberate, newly learned skills into unconscious, automatically performed skills. But the mind is sloppy and will settle for good enough." Tell me about it! Excepting perhaps basketball, my motto growing up, more than "good enough", was more like "what the hell." (And, unfortunately, for me, the genetic hand I was dealt did not really help in terms of pursuing a future in basketball. See any 5' 7'' white guys in the NBA recently?) As a young woman Marcia Dale Weary clearly understood this reality intuitively. This is why I find seeing a few minutes of a class at CPYB so fascinating. Repeat, repeat... again, again. Stop. Correct. Again... Of course genes play a role, but perhaps we've been giving them way too much credit. There are four principal dancers in New York City Ballet, considered by many the top ballet company in the world, who did their formative training in Carlisle at CPYB. It ain't the water. (You will also find CPYB alums in the principal ranks of many of the world's top ballet companies.) There is a photo, reproduced above, CPYB uses often in their brochures and programs of Marcia Dale Weary down on hands and knees helping a small child get her foot into exactly the right position. It's a charming photo and gets right at the heart of this question: no detail is too small. (And, we might add, the poignant symbolic lesson: no true master is too proud to humble him/herself if it's necessary for the development of the student.) Technical perfection is a prerequisite for those who want to aim high. You can't cut corners. Etc., etc. If ballet were a question of inherent talent, you'd expect the top companies to be populated with kids coming out of little academies from all over the world. But it doesn't work like that. They come mainly from the handful of places where the work and dedication is most intensive. But it's a wonderful thing we have all these little dance schools (and art schools, saturday morning soccer leagues, piano lessons, etc.): life would be pretty darn miserable if we could only experience the new through the filter of intensive training.

Yesterday Soler visited the literature class taught by Antonio Hierro. He came to talk about his work with Banderas on the film adapatation of his novel El camino de los ingleses. It was an excellent session and Soler, as always, made some observations that reminded me of his own experiences and his determination, from a young age, to be a novelist. And not just a novelist, but one of the very best. Work, work, work... and it's paying off. National Critics Prize, Nadal Prize, general critical praise, etc. In the larger photo, CPYB alum Ashley Bouder, critically acclaimed principal at New York City Ballet. So, from top photo to bottom photo we're talking well over 10,000 hours of exhausting training. Literally. I'm guessing Daniela is somewhere between 6,000 and 7,000. Seems pretty crazy, but who's to question another's dreams? And if the dream takes another direction, or simply doesn't work out? That's fine. After all, excuse the cliché, it's about the journey.

Cinderella

Fantastic. I got to see three performances and I would have gladly watched three, or thirty more, had it been possible. These CPYB productions are always impressive and Cinderella was no exception. To see Daniela in the lead role Sunday was a very special treat. All of the dancers were incredible, even the littlest ones. It was especially nice to see Daniela surrounded by the girls she has been with for so long in other leading roles. And of course, Marcus as her Prince was great. (In the top photo, Daniela with Marcus in Gambol, in 2006; left, Daniela with Mary Aldrich's niece Melanie after the performance Sunday.) Her development as a ballerina has been so fast and amazing! Asun and I are tremendously grateful to Marcia Dale Weary and all the faculty at CPYB for giving Daniela these opportunities. There's no doubt that CPYB is an exceptional and unique institution. Two of the best articles available on line are "Setting a High Barre" and a 2001 article published in the The New York Times. In addition to Marcia, we owe special thanks to Leslie Hench, Lazlo Berdo, Alan Hineline, and Darla Hoover for all of their work with Daniela. And it sure is a lot of work. If it weren't for the obvious passion that Daniela has for ballet, there is no way we would consent to this intensive training. I keep telling Daniela that we'll support her in this as long as it's fun. If it weren't fun it would be complete madness. And she no doubt has loads of fun, especially when it comes to performing. That's quite evident when you see her on stage. Very, very few children have this kind of experience. Daniela has danced on stage in professional productions over a hundred times. Literally. For tens of thousands of people. I don't think giving a book report in class is going to unnerve her. This is just one of the benefits these kids get from the ballet training. They are poised, mature, and very, very disciplined. On Tuesday just prior to heading for the airport, I had the opportunity to sit in on Daniela's private class with Leslie Hench. (The day following three days of intensive performing it was back to class–there's no rest, no letting up! And today after the private with Leslie, another three and half hours of class.) Very interesting. Even the stretching and strengthening exercises at the barre were extraordinary to me. The work between teacher and student is so intensive. And all that French terminology–many of the terms are familiar to me, but I can only link a couple of them to the movements they refer to. Then seeing the dynamic of working with the video monitor was fascinating. Step by step. Repetition. Critique. Correction. Again. (And again, and again, and again...) And during the class Leslie announced that this week Daniela would be working with Anna-Marie Holmes. Holmes is a genuine legend in the ballet world and was the first non-Russian to dance as an invited principle with the Kirov. She is at CPYB this week to rehearse La Vivandiere for the June series; Daniela and Grace will be the leads. And so it goes at CPYB. Seven days a week.