At the Joffrey: Keep Fit Ballet

So, regardless of bizarre Soviet renditions of Gisele in which convulsing zombie wilis are … well, were … a thing, it turns out that Keep Fit Ballet (as opposed to “just normal ballet”) is a difference more of degree than of kind.

It’s a one-hour long lunch break class with some extra stretching/warm-up stuff thrown in at the beginning. I say “thrown,” but actually it’s well-chosen.

Class was packed, and I was one of four guys (one of whom was a professional whom I think I’ve seen in class at the Joffrey before). Everyone was lovely and people went out of their way to talk to me and make me feel welcome, which was very nice.

I enjoyed it immensely, even the final combination, during which my brain said (correctly):

Chassée
Chassée
Saute (arabesque)
Saute (passe)
Tombe pas bourré
Glissade
Assemblée

… while my body said (bizarrely) :
Glissade
Glissade
Saute (arabesque)
Saute (passe)
Failli
Pas de basque, maybe?
Glissade
Saut de chat

Note to body: no matter how much you enjoy it, Saute de Chat is not assemblée!

You guys, has that ever happened to you?

Like, your brain has the combination, but your body merrily does something completely (or almost completely) different?

And no matter what you do — you as in your conscious mind, here … not that the conscious mind, in such moments, has much recourse to begin with: all you can do is think loudly at yourself; maybe yell at yourself if your verbal faculties haven’t all gone on sabbatical.

Perhaps this explains the Attic form of dualism — TL;DR: “the soul is shiny and eternal; the body is a stinking, rebellious meat sack.”

Anyway, no matter what your conscious mind tried, your body just goes on with its bad self, as it were? As if it’s been hijacked by insane Ballet Fairies? (o.O … What if it’s my Inner Odile trying to emerge?!)

It’s possible, even probable, that my breakfast had simply worn off. That said, eating immediately before class would have been a much, much worse idea. Next time I’m doing a noon class, I’ll just eat breakfast later.

Regardless, I had a great time as always as the Joffrey.

I forgot to upload my draft of Strangers to Googly Docs, so I won’t be able to post chapter 2 until I get home 😦

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About asher

Me in a nutshell: Standard uptight ballet boy. Trapeze junkie. Half-baked choreographer. Budding researcher. Transit cyclist. Terrible homemaker. Getting along pretty well with bipolar disorder. Fabulous. Married to a very patient man. Bachelor of Science in Psychology (2015). Proto-foodie, but lazy about it. Cat owner ... or, should I say, cat own-ee? ... dog lover. Equestrian.

Posted on 2015/11/06, in balllet, class notes and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. “Like, your brain has the combination, but your body merrily does something completely (or almost completely) different?”

    Yes I remember this feeling! And I feel like it applies to the rest of my life too…HA

    • OMG, yes. Once, I had to jump off a horse that tripped and almost rolled on me. He then bolted, and my stupid meat-sack decided that it was a good idea to run after him (it’s never a good idea, FWIW, too run after a panicked horse) while my brain shouted, “OMG YOU MORON STOP STOP STOP!”

      This has now become an analogy for every time this happens, ever.

      I’m glad I’m not the only one who has this glitch!

  2. “all you can do is think loudly at yourself” perfection.
    I honestly have very little ability to think much during the dancing. It all has to be done before-hand. Once I start I just count on my body to go with the plan, and when something goes array, I’ve had those thinking loudly moments while my body just continues on it’s course while I try to even just watch it in the mirror and see what the heck it’s up to so I can even offer a suggestion in my brain shouts!

  1. Pingback: Ballet and My Body: A Brief Assessment | my beautiful machine / danseur ignoble

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