Adieu, Pierre

I believe I’ve made my last visit to Pierre’s House of Pain (a.k.a. ballet class).  My last class with Pierre started out well – when we started plie-ing, Pierre pulled me off the barre and asked me to dance at the center barre instead.  Hooray! I thought.  Pierre wants to show me off as an example!  Then he whispered, “That barre was getting a little crowded.”  Oh.

But then things improved, as Pierre suddenly approached and asked if he could touch me.  Mon Dieu!  I said you betcha, Pierre, and he proceeded to correct my center placement (like, the place in your body that allows you to twirl and leap and oh, everything) in a way that, in one moment, improved my dancing tenfold.  But 15 minutes later, there I was scowling and miserable once again, as Pierre asked us to do a complicated center routine that exactly one dancer could do well (and she was obviously a professional, slumming it in the adult class just for giggles).  I’d had enough of feeling so discouraged, so I packed away Pierre’s invaluable piece of advice in my memory and silently bid adieu to his perfectly toned buttocks.

Then two things happened:

1.  I learned that Phoenix Theatre is having a summer dance program!  Last week I went to their musical theatre dance class, expecting the teacher to make up a dance to a Broadway tune a la Tyce Diorio on SYTYCD.  Instead, she’s actually recreating original choreography, so I learned the Jerome Robbins choreography to “Cool” from West Side Story, something I would never get to dance normally, since I am not a man, and also kind of old.  In addition, the teacher made us do about 200 sit-ups and 20 (non-girly-style) push-ups.  Who does that??  Ow.  But my sleeveless tops and bathing suit appreciated it.

2.  My friend Leslie (who has embarked on a quest of her own) told me about a jazz class at this new(?) studio called Sway, which is a dance studio MEANT FOR ADULTS, something I have dreamed about since moving to Phoenix.  I went last Tuesday and felt like I’d found a new dance home.  I felt really comfortable with the level of difficulty, and oh joy, we did a dance to “The Way You Make Me Feel,” my favorite MJ song to dance to, so I feel like I got to say goodbye to MJ in my own way.

In one week I went from suffering through a miserable ballet class to finding two dance classes I love.  Ballet is wonderful exercise, but there’s very little joy in dancing ballet (at least for me).  When I dance to Michael Jackson, or pretend I’m a member of the Jets, dancing to “Cool,” I feel – well, like that wise Billy Elliot once said, I feel like I sorta disappear.  And I’m just there.  Flying like a bird.  Like electricity.