Black Swan on SNL

Everyone's talking about it so I had to post it...

Jim Carey could use a little basic ballet class, haha.

More Musings on Black Swan, Eating Disorders, Etc.

Let me preface this by saying that I think it's time we move on from all this jibber jabber and actually do something about ballet's issues. Too much talk...

Anyway, here are few more interesting news items I've come across over the past few days about "Black Swan," the whole Alastair/Jeni Ringer deal, and eating disorders in ballet...

First off, in response to the HuffPost article I was in yesterday, one of my ballet teachers who danced as a soloist in NYCB under Balanchine for many years said, "Interesting...my generation, I think, just worked to be better dancers and better artists and hoped the audience would be moved by what we were doing. I never thought of trying to be perfect, that would be asking for WAY too much. We had a good time and apparently it worked. Then again...I remember dancing mostly for the audience not for other dancers."

I think that obsession for perfection that we see so strongly in Natalie Portman's character is inherent in the art form -- we're asking our bodies to do things physically unnatural -- but the emphasis on that has grown over the years for dancers themselves. Now it's so much about tricks and turns and competition. 

Here's an interesting radio interview with two prominent ballet people in Boston: one of my former teachers, Margaret Tracey, who now directs Boston Ballet School, and Jose Mateo of Jose Mateo Ballet Theater. It's fascinating to me to hear the director side of things sometimes. In the midst of all this ballet press I feel like many spokespeople are giving cookie cutter, "nice" answers to questions about ballet. "Oh yes, our ballerinas are healthy." We seem to be protecting our art form - myself included - which makes sense. But the truth is (and it's pointed out around 15:00 in the interview) that there's a huge gap between what we say and what we do. We say we love ballerinas of all healthy shapes and sizes. Then we hire or cast the "perfect" ones. Hmm...something's not right. I'm really curious to read Elizabeth Sullivan's Columbia thesis that's referenced in the interview, titled "The Introduction of Wellness Programs in Pre-Professional Ballet Schools in the United States. 

Moving on...here's a health expert's opinion about the psychological aspects of Natalie Portman's character. "But could Natalie Portman's character have carried off the demanding ballet performance in a psychotic state? Doctors say it would have been 'unlikely.'" It's pretty clear from the start of the film that this is fiction, fantasy, not real. That's why I think this works as a decent film for our art -- it's not claiming to be a true representation of ballet dancers, and it's not duplicating the cheesy stereotypes of "Center Stage."

Thoughts?b

HuffPost: Black Swan & The Real Ballet World

I'm interviewed today on the Huffington Post in an article by Jordan Zakarin about "Black Swan" and the real ballet world. READ IT HERE.

I love this line: "But when they're not performing, dance is less an art than extreme sport, with often times unrealistic expectations, driving dancers to their physical and mental limits -- and beyond. The result, far too often, is a loss of an inner self that so few outsiders can see."

Jordan has a great article (and a fun archive of other pop culture posts...) and I'm so glad I could be a part of it. Thanks to Evan, also!

Black Swan, Eating Disorders, and So On

So recently I was asked to respond to some of the hoopla going on lately about ballet dancers and eating disorders and Black Swan and so on. I wrote this as a guest blog for a bigger site but time restraints made them unable to post it so...here it is now, haha. This was somewhat ins response to this post.

---

There’s some kind of artistic hunger ingrained in us as young ballerinas-in-training. I’d sit in the wings of the second act of Boston Ballet’s Nutcracker entranced by the lights, the beauty, the precision onstage. Behind me was the blackness of backstage, the scent of Tiger balm, the whining dancers, the clunk of props. I was so lucky to see both sides of this elite world.

I ached to be a part of it.

That hunger for opportunity is the true meaning of a starving artist. We can be deprived of so much as ballet dancers – a childhood, a prom, a stable career. But our appetite for art supersedes all that.

It’s an addiction really, that obsession for perfection. During one summer at Boston Ballet I was living at home, an hour away from the city. While all my fellow students returned to the dorms for their dinner break between rehearsals, I stayed to take an extra class. We already had two technique classes a day, plus rehearsal and maybe Pilates. It wasn’t enough for me – I’d take men’s class during our lunch break and more technique at dinner. I loved it.

While training in New York City (and taking an overload college course schedule and holding an internship) I used to get to the studio early on Fridays for an extra semi-private class with my favorite teacher. I’d dance 6 hours without a break. That last push at the end of the day felt amazing.

Years later as a professional, I would do three shows a day at Radio City Music Hall and then run across town to take a class or two at The Ailey Extension. It just made sense to me to do more. Ballet was my life.

Is my life.

Because I’m mostly freelance, there’s this constant fight to find a job. A fight with myself, with my body, with my competition. Every day in class we’re told what’s wrong with us. We stare hours on end at our bodies just in a leotard in tights. It’s frightening honestly, but we often blame the mirrors.

Oh I can’t stand at that barre – that’s a fat mirror.

Aronofsky’s film Black Swan really captures that mental struggle we face daily. Though Nina’s (Natalie Portman) actions are obviously taken to extreme, her intentions and motivations are completely realistic. She wants to be perfect. She wants to be thin. She wants her role. NYCB principal Wendy Whelan has it right when she says, “Dancers learn to take on these subtle head-trips every day.”

Though there has been much discussion about the film’s depiction of eating disorders, I actually think it did well in not making that a huge focus (as other silly ballet movies like Center Stage did). The truth of the matter is that ballet dancers can’t maintain these kinds of training schedules without eating anything. And those who don’t eat don’t last very long. Where would the stamina and strength come from?

During my season of 17-show weeks at Radio City I’d eat at least three big meals a day (I’m talking bacon and eggs, big plates of pasta, chicken parm…) and I still lost weight unintentionally. Though ballet is anaerobic exercise, it still burns calories fast as muscles tone. I don’t think Portman and Kunis lost 20 pounds each just to look like ballerinas – their training to dance like ballerinas naturally thinned them out. With a professional schedule you’re going to lost weight whether you’re eating nothing or everything.

Our bodies are our tools. Unlike a painter whose brush is not physically a part of them, our art and our selves are one in the same. Our entire self-perception falls prey to that – healthy or not. We’re not hungry for carbs. We’re hungry to dance.