Gangleri's Grove

I realize some of you may be wondering why I write so much, especially lately, about ballet. This is, after all, a blog about theology, devotion, and polytheism, especially contemporary Heathenry. Ballet  is, however, relevant to my work as an ancestor worker. I honor my dead, but I also have specific groups, bound to me by spirit and by lineage. Ballet is a lineage and for the first part of my life, I was part of that lineage. I danced professionally and while I retired very early, and never “made it” as a dancer, every significant step I have taken in my life, including becoming a priest and vitki in service to my Gods has been shaped by my time as a dancer. Yes, that career, as short as it was (I retired in my twenties) left me with a broken body and chronic pain but it also gave me an understanding of the importance of creating beauty, of how that elevates the soul, of discipline, resiliency, endurance, and the reality of transcendent Gods, who are at the same time imminent and moving through us when we make ourselves proper channels. *whew* That’s a mouthful! It’s my way of saying that I honor this lineage because even though I did not have the type or length of career I wished, I’m still part of it, and it formed me. Also, ancestor work isn’t just about honoring the dead – may their memory, individual and collective, be a blessing — it’s also about carrying that reverence into the world of the living, so, often I will talk about living dancers. The lineage continues unfolding. 

Over the past couple of months, I’ve read several books on ballet that left me in tears, moved, and filled with a renewed fire to deepen and improve the way that I teach, when opportunities arise to teach on this topic (which happens maybe once a semester when I guest lecture). Certainly, the way I honor and conceptualize the ballets that I danced, and the lineage itself has deepened. To that end, I would like to suggest the following for those of you who may wish to know more. 

Final Bow for Yellowface by Phil Chan with Michelle Chase. I had initially been quite dubious about this book but after reading it, I think it’s a crucially important book for dancers, choreographers, company directors, and anyone interested in ballet. So many of our classical ballets include stereotypes and caricatures of Asian people, especially Chinese since these ballets were choreographed at a time when chinoiserie was all the rage. While not intended to be offensive, to modern audiences these dances can be offensive, as well as alienating to Asian dancers. I’m protective of these classical ballets, especially the classics by Marius Petipa whose “Nutcracker” (with its Chinese dance representing “tea,”) is a major offender here. I was sure this book would trash the tradition but instead, the author – a dancer himself – offers workable suggestions to transform these pieces, removing the orientalism, and instead, all while staying true to the original choreography and/or its intent, creating dances that honor these cultures, including input from those whose cultures are represented. I was blown away by this and contacted the author, who was kind enough to send me a teaching guide for this book. His second book (more academic in its approach and intended audience) is called “Banishing Orientalism” is a more in depth and historical treatment of the same subject. I danced “Nutcracker” every year for the better part of twenty years and never thought twice about the Chinese dance. This book made me look deeper at the art I love, the art to which I gave part of my life. I recommend checking both books out and also Mr. Chan’s organization, co-founded with NYCB soloist Georgina Pazcoguin, also called Final Bow for Yellowface. 

By way of example here are two different versions of the Chinese dance from the Nutcracker. The first is Balanchine’s choreography, based heavily on the original Petipa for the Chinese dance in the Nutcracker. 

The second, based on numerous conversations with Mr. Chan, is Ballet West’s version, one that gives us a warrior battling a dragon. Draw your own conclusions. (There are other ways that companies have adapted the original choreography and Mr. Chan goes into this in his book).   

The next book I’d like to recommend is The Swans of Harlem by Karen Valby. This is one of the most important books on ballet I’ve read. It chronicles black ballerinas and ballet dancers, the first to form Dance theatre of Harlem and even some of those who came before them. It brings their names back into the living history of dance –as lineage carriers who laid the foundation for dancers today. I have taught about ballet history. I danced myself, professionally and I knew about NYCB soloist Raven Wilkinson, Debra Austen, the first black woman to dance “Giselle,” and of course Dance Theatre of Harlem’s Virginia Johnson. But I am ashamed that I never knew the names (with only one or two exceptions) of the women interviewed for this book until now. I cried my way through the book, and I am so grateful to these women, the men who danced with them, and the author herself. I highly recommend checking out their foundation, aimed at educating dancers and everyone else on the foundational work of dancers of color generations before Misty Copeland became American Ballet Theatre’s first principal dancer (this is in no way meant to take anything away from her accomplishments. She, recently retired, was a stunningly talented ballerina and she has sought throughout her work to lift other dancers up, which is really lovely to see). I also highly recommend checking out the 152nd Street Black Ballet Legacy, which seeks to preserve the stories of these amazing DTH dancers. 

And if any of you want to see the Dance Theatre of Harlem piece that absolutely blew me away when I was a young pro, check out their “Creole Giselle,” a reimagining of one of the great romantic ballets in a pre-Civil War, free-black Louisiana society. It is one of my favorite versions of this ballet (which is not only the first ballet I ever saw — National Ballet of Canada with Karen Kain — but my favorite, though I never danced it). 

The arts matter. They lift us up to the Gods. They transform in ways we cannot fully grasp. I believe that the theatre is sacred space. It belongs particularly to Dionysos, but also to the Muses, to Apollo too. I belong to Odin, a God of frenzied inspiration Who fathered Bragi, the God of poetry and performance. I am so intensely grateful to have had the time I did on stage, at the barre, learning and being shaped into a person capable of recognizing the holy. That’s what the arts do. That’s what the theatre is: holy. These places and performances and the material culture that comes from them are holy – things that heal the soul and heart (1) — and when we brush, however briefly against something truly holy, we are changed on a fundamental, soul-deep level. We are bettered for the experience. 

So, if you have the chance, go to the ballet, go to the opera, go to museums (2), concerts, and feed your senses. Feed your soul. I know that tickets can be expensive for the ballet and/or opera, but at least for ballet, you can sit in the cheap seats. In fact, I think that ballet is best viewed from second or third tier (you want to see the patterns of the dances, and for that, first tier center is *the* best. But I’ve sat in fourth tier and it’s just fine). Many companies offer student tickets or discounts and they’re worth it. Museums are often free or have a small, suggested donation, often with student discounts even on that. In every case, the money goes to support the company or museum. Pointe shoe budgets alone for ballet companies can be over 1.5 million a year! This is a tool that is essential to a dancer’s work. It’s also a tool that can wear out in one performance. Not ready for a formal museum? Art Galleries are free so you can just walk in and browse and see some awesome (and sometimes also some awful lol) up and coming artists; and one of the few benefits of streaming services is that we can watch performances of the arts on tv. It’s not the same as going in person, but it’s better, so much better than nothing. Get out there and feed your souls and let me know what you like!

Notes: 

1. The word “holy” comes from the Old English “halig,” which means whole, healthy, and hale. To touch the holy is to become whole. 

2. I think the secret of getting the most out of a museum is to prepare. Pick one thing, one section, one exhibit that you want to see and focus only on that. Don’t try to see everything all at once in one visit; it will just overwhelm. 

Affiliate Advertising Disclosure