You Can't Please Everybody

I had a very interesting experience last week. Something happened to me that has NEVER happened before. It took me awhile to figure out exactly what was going on and to determine how to digest the situation. A disgruntled student contacted one of my many employers and wrote a scathing three paragraph email attacking my integrity as an instructor and my personality outside the dance studio. I won't go into specific details about the message that was clearly meant to disparage my employer from continuing to work with me. But what I can tell you is that I was completely and utterly blindsided that a student who has only taken my class a very few times would go as far as trying to affect my employment because they disliked my attempt to share my art with them and improve their skills. Luckily, I have amazing friends and peers who have helped support me through this situation. And as a few of them have said, I officially have a HATER, which means that I must have made it! 😂

The dance world is a place that is brimming with judgment. We judge ourselves every day in the mirror, while teachers and peers are judging us, as well. Now, this judgment doesn't always have a negative connotation. A majority of judgment in a classroom setting comes from your instructors, whose job is to give you combinations, judge your execution, and offer corrections to help put you on the right path towards success. Your peers may judge you in order to determine what you are and aren't doing well to help them along their path, too. Once you leave the studio and step onstage, you are putting yourself on a platform that opens up a whole different world of judgment from the general public. Some of these people are critics, some are couples on dates, and others are ballet aficionados that spend as much free time as possible sitting in the anonymity that the darkness of a theatre provides. A performing artist is setting themselves up to be critiqued constantly.

Judging Art

One difficult reality that dancers must face is that judgement of their work often feels like a personal attack on one's character. A dancer creates their art by physically exhausting themselves and tapping into emotional parts of their life experience to portray certain roles. When a bad review comes out, a dancer may feel that their own being is under attack. This often isn't true, but that doesn't take away the pain of a negative critique.

There is a great deal of judgment and critique in our careers that is never intended to be malicious. But, then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, somebody comes along who just doesn't like you. Whether it is a critic that never likes how you perform a role compared to other dancers, a colleague that you always rub the wrong way, or somebody who you somehow offend with any and every action you take, there will be some people that you just can't please. This has been the great lesson of my career as of late.

As an instructor in dance, I have passed beyond the sometimes selfish period of my performance career. When I am in the studio working with my students, class has nothing to do with me and everything to do with getting my students to achieve the impossible. I am heavy in the correction department, try to inspire honest conversation among students, and try to provide valuable feedback to each student in my classes. Where a performance career involves a great deal of focus on oneself, a teaching career is the complete opposite. In fact, I say that the only way I can be successful as a teacher is to help my students become successful. Being a teacher of dance differs from a performance career in the sense that an instructor's sole focus should be to give fully to their students.

Working w/dancer on my new work for Columbia Ballet Collaborative (Photo: Eduardo Patino)

At the end of my time teaching a class, I often wait afterwards to talk with students and answer any questions that have gone unanswered in the fast-pace environment of a technique class. During this time, I also often receive feedback from my students. Nearly all of this feedback is positive. It is rare to never that a student comes up to a teacher with a complaint (they usually reserve this type of feedback for management). But it seems that while many students enjoy a class, it isn't uncommon for a student or two to have an opposite experience. If these students choose to express their discontent, having received opposing positive feedback, an instructor may find it difficult to understand where things went wrong and how to resolve it. The same can happen with a performer. Perhaps, after a show, a dancer receives a plethora of gracious comments and positive attention from peers, management, and friends who have watched their performance. But when that review comes out and tears them off of their performance pedestal, it can be painful and confusing to read something written for the public and to assess where things went wrong.

What I have learned in my most recent experience with my hater is that it is impossible to please everybody. As a friend recently told me, "I am not everyone's cup of tea." As dancers and former dancers, we tend to strive for this ideal that everybody around us will like us as people and artists. I feel that many people, non-dancers included want everybody to like them. But this is just completely impossible. There are so many people on this earth with so many different personalities, lifestyles, expectations, tastes, and more. And to have the expectation that you can please everybody and leave this life with every person you touched feeling positively about their experience with you is one hundred percent impossible. For instance, some students prefer an aggressive teacher that really pushes a dancer outside of their comfort zone. While other students want to attend class to have fun and prefer not to be corrected once. It is impossible to please everybody in the room, in the company, in the theatre, and in the world.

Sometimes, it is baffling to comprehend that those who choose to express their opinions have seen the same performance. One person's taste may differ greatly from another. Or one person's education and knowledge of dance may be vastly different from the people sitting next to them. The same goes for an instructor trying to impart their knowledge upon a studio of dancers. Some students may thrive under a challenging teacher, while others may collapse into negativity. Luckily, there is great beauty in having so many people involved in our field. Every teacher and every dancer is not someone's cup of tea. And that is fine. There are a range of options for each person to choose from. As long as we understand this concept, we can move forward from negative feedback much quicker. Yes, you should assess whether you feel that feedback is true and could potentially help you grow and cultivate your craft. But you can't please everybody and you absolutely shouldn't lose grasp of the type of artist you want to be just to please somebody who may never actually be pleased with you. You may just not be their cup of tea!

*EVENT ALERT* - Managing the Freelance Life - Monday, Dec. 5th - 5-7 PM at Gibney Dance

A few years ago, I produced a New York City-based event called Contact: A Networking Event for Freelance Dancers. While I haven't produced this event in the past few years, finding new ways to bring the freelance dance community together continues to be an important aspect of my work. Back in September, I was called into The Dancers' Resource and Career Transitions for Dancers to talk about events that may benefit those dancers, choreographers, and teachers who already work as freelancers or need more information about how to freelance. I am very excited to say that these great organizations asked me to speak at their first event catered to the freelance community on Monday, December 5th from 5-7 pm at Gibney Dance (280 Broadway). So, if you are looking for information to begin working as a freelance artist, need some tips for success, or are looking for a chance to meet other freelancers, feel free to join us for this free event, Managing the Freelance Life - Strategies for Success. Please share this with all of the freelancers you know (dancers, dance educators, choreographers).  If you plan on attending, please be sure to RSVP by clicking here. I hope to see you there and be sure to come up to me at the event and let me know that you heard about here on Life of a Freelance Dancer! Cheers!

The "R" Word - Retirement

The Nutcracker (Photo: Ruth Judson)

There really are few careers out there that are as strikingly unique as a performance career in dance. Those of us lucky enough to dance for a living chose our career path somewhere between the age of teen and tween. Plenty of my peers and colleagues left middle or high school early to attend a boarding school or finished their academics online. From the lifestyle required to maintain the elite level of an athletic artist to the odd set of job requirements, there is nothing normal about the life of a dance artist. One of the most defining aspects of our careers is a word that begins with the letter "R" and is a word almost as dangerous as the name Voldemort. Like many of the most beautiful things in our world, a dance career shines brightly and quickly, then usually fades as fast as a falling star. Like putting together a last will and testament, talking about retirement feels like a daunting task. But at some point, every successful dancer will retire. And only in the rarest instances will this retirement lead one into the sunset of their lives.

Martha Graham was once quoted as saying, "A dancer dies twice." I can tell you from experience that this is one of the most credible statements that has ever been spoken about the pathway a dancer takes as they end their performance career and transition forward into the next stage of their lives. I have been told that one of my most defining attributes as a writer is my level of candor in talking about the realities of our wonderful dance world. But I don't feel that I have been completely candid about where I am as an artist today. And I finally feel that I am ready to change that.

If you have shared the journey of Life of a Freelance Dancer, you have walked hand-in-hand with me from the commencement of my career as a freelance artist. If you look back to 2014, where I posted about dealing with injury and working my way back from burn out, it was quite clear that I was working through a difficult period of my performance career. I had been traveling non-stop for 4 seasons and felt that I was beginning to forget who I was at my core. While I recovered from injury and worked to figure out how I ended up so emotionally lost, I took a job with Alaska Dance Theatre, created my own choreography project, and began working to transition my career to New York City. While I spent a great amount of time giving myself technique class at the gym and dropping in to take classes from other instructors, my performance career remained on hiatus. And, for the longest time, I didn't even know why.

Throughout this period, there were a handful of times that I found myself giving awkward explanations about the state of my career. I've been lucky enough that this blog has given me a great deal of credibility and has offered me visibility to other artists in my field. I've been approached a handful of times for work through this blog or in person from those who have read it. I felt awkward turning down these kind offers, as my persona has become understood as that of a highly sought, successful performer.

But more difficult than turning down the work was trying to find the words to explain why I was turning it down. More often than not, I would offer to pass jobs on to my peers because I didn't feel I was in appropriate shape to take on a performance at that moment. But in all honestly, I just wasn't able to bring myself to get back into a rehearsal studio.

Often, I would find myself at social events and people would ask me what I did for a living. My natural response was that I was a dancer. But as my choreography, teaching, and media career started to take off, I found myself in an awkward situation where a friend corrected me mid-conversation about my position. Sipping a glass of wine after telling a party-goer that I was a dancer, this friend interrupted me and stated, "Actually, he is a choreographer. He isn't performing anymore." I sheepishly smiled at this person and nodded my head, but what they couldn't recognize was the rush of adrenaline flooding my body. That rushing of natural chemicals flowing through my veins mimicked the feeling you might get when you receive extremely bad news; like finding out about an illness or a death. In that very moment, I was forced to come to terms with the creeping, slow death of my performance career. My body's reaction reinforced the statement I posted earlier about the death of a dancer. A dancer dies once when their career is over and again when the person passes on.

Now, I know that I was deeply affected by this experience. But like many occasions when you receive bad news, you go into denial or silently acknowledge the issue while maintaining a certain level of public mum surrounding the item. After toying around with the idea that I may be officially retiring from my performance career for many months, I finally decided to work on transitioning my career base to New York City. This transition has finally allowed me to come to terms with what I am trying to tell you. Once I finally started getting into Nancy Bielski's class on a regular basis, I began to feel my body returning to it's normal ballet shape. While I still had aches and pains from the devastating injury I experienced dancing with Oakland Ballet, I was able to maintain my body and return to class daily. A few more offers for work came to me and I graciously turned those offers down. As you also know, I've been given a handful of teaching opportunities during this time, as well. Whether at Steps on Broadway, Broadway Dance Center, or teaching master classes across the country, I have found a great deal of excitement and growth in this facet of my career. With the addition of having my choreography sought out more and seeing my media work from my blog and podcast explode, things started to become clearer and clearer.

I don't know exactly when it happened and I don't know how it happened, but in the past few months I have finally been able to say it. And maybe the reason I hadn't been able to say it was because I didn't want to admit to myself that I had already moved on. Or maybe it was because it is the only thing I have ever known since I was a young child. And while I have finally admitted it to myself and in private conversation, I still feel slightly choked up writing this post to share what this experience is like for me and may be like for you. And I promise you it's coming. And it's coming right now. I am officially retired from my performance career (and my heart is racing just typing this).

The Nutcracker (Photo: J-Ro)

Alrighty. Now that those words are out there, I'd like to elaborate a little more before signing off from this post. I have not been retired from my performance career since 2014. I really only started toying around with the idea at the beginning of 2016. I had dreams of making this big comeback. I had dreams of maybe joining a Broadway show. I had dreams of performing with Suzanne Farrell Ballet and getting to dance a Balanchine work one more time. I continued to dream of sharing my love of dance from the stage. But with the growth of my media work, the greatly positive feedback for my teaching, and the interest in my choreography, I had to give myself a bit of a reality check. I have accomplished most of what I wanted to accomplish in my performance career. I danced with two of the best ballet companies in the country in some of the greatest works by the greatest choreographers with live music in every production. Then, I self-managed a traveling career across the country performing on stages large and small. I received some level of recognition and notoriety and I feel pleased with all of that. While I feel that I could push through for another year or two, I feel that I reached my peak and will only be maintaining the same level of work that I had been doing when I became injured in 2014. At the young age of 32, I feel that if I focus my work on choreographing, teaching, and sharing my voice with the world that I can do much, much greater things and with a head start. I may perform here and there on occasions that really inspire me (coming out of retirement a la Barbara Streisand). But for the most part, I'm looking forward to focusing on my growing work and continuing to offer my advice and experiences as a freelance choreographer, educator, and dancer here on this blog. As, even in retirement, I will continue to take class and maintain being a dancer off the stage.

Going through the process of finding the strength to use the "R" word, I feel that I did go through a grieving process. I didn't have a big retirement performance to let fans fawn all over me or to gain closure. There was no exact day I can look back to for the rest of my life to call the anniversary of my retirement. But over the last few months, I suddenly became comfortable with responding to my peers and curious acquaintances questions by proudly stating, "I am a choreographer, dance educator, and advocate for the dance world through my media work." I feel that any dancer working towards or going through retirement can benefit from having something to look forward to, no matter how exciting or mundane. So, when you find yourself approaching this new life of yours, remember this. While we may no longer be on the stage to share our gifts with audiences small and large, we will always be dancers. A dancer may die two deaths, but that doesn't mean they live two lives.

(As I enter this new stage of my career, if any readers are ever interested in booking me for choreography, master classes in ballet or contemporary technique, or for speaking engagements, you are always welcome to reach me on my contact page by clicking here. I am available for local, national, and international work).

Using Teaching to Supplement Your Salary

Teaching a contemporary class

Most dancers that identify themselves as independent dance artists need to have some type of backup plan to sustain themselves during off times, supplement their income, or throw some extra spending money in their pockets. While a handful of dancers choose to make some of their income working at a restaurant, as a barista, and at other non-dance jobs, I wouldn't be afraid to make the claim that a majority of freelancers use teaching dance classes to supplement their dancer salary.

Some dancers teach because it seems like the most obvious and practical way to work in their field when they aren't dancing in a studio themselves. Whether they are or aren't passionate about passing on our art, it is much more lucrative to teach an hour and a half dance class than it often is to work in other fields. Luckily, for me, teaching has never been an unfortunate necessity to help supplement my income. I have always known that I wanted to teach and freelancing has only allowed me to incorporate this aspect of dance into my schedule.

My interest in teaching didn't come naturally. In my earlier training years, I was more focused on the number of pirouettes I could execute than sharing my knowledge of dance with those younger than me. It wasn't until the age of 16 that I really took notice in the importance of having a passionate, caring instructor. Kimberly Martin, or Ms. Kim, was the first teacher that I had that went way out of her way to help me along my path towards becoming a professional dancer. I had many instructors that worked their asses off to get me to where I did, but Ms. Kim was a bit different. When she realized how passionate I was about dancing, she took me under her wing, coached me, inspired me, and even let me live with her on the weekends to extend my training as far as she could. Beyond that, I had incredible experiences with Claudio Munoz during my summers at the Houston Ballet Academy, Jock Soto and Peter Boal at the School of American Ballet, Paul Gibson as a Ballet Master with Pacific Northwest Ballet, and Bob Rizzo of Riz-Biz Productions. As teachers and mentors, these people showed me how giving and unselfish the art of teaching can be. Existing in the somewhat selfish profession of ballet, where you spend countless hours staring in the mirror and working on yourself, I knew I had to find a way to pull myself out of the narcissism involved in self-correcting and instruct those that had similar dreams.

The first time I tried to gain teaching experience was when Peter Boal took over PNB. Sitting in my first evaluation with my new boss and former teacher, I vocalized my interest in developing my chops as an instructor. I assumed that we would quickly bond over this since his teaching had inspired me only a few years prior. It was a bit surprising when he responded, "I think you should really focus on your dancing right now." Nearly, a decade later, I don't necessarily disagree with his opinion. But I still wish that he had given me the opportunity to develop my skills under his tutelage.

It wasn't until a summer layoff a handful of years into my career that I got my first true opportunity to conduct a classroom. I was visiting home for a few weeks between seasons when the director of my home studio called to see if I wanted to teach a few ballet classes for their week-long intensive. I jumped at the chance and nervously developed a lesson plan for the class. Secretly, I hoped that I would show up, leave the paper sitting in the corner, and prove the genius of a teacher that I was on my first try. But in reality, having a written lesson plan helped me out a great deal, as I was no prodigy. Where I think I lacked in experience, I made up for in blind passion.

I didn't have many opportunities to teach outside of, maybe, three more individual classes at home until I began working as a freelancer. The closest I got to working with students would be the three years I choreographed new works on the Professional Division students for PNB's annual Next Step Choreographer's Showcase. While I didn't get to work with this young talent in a classroom setting, I still had the gratification of helping these kids along their path.

Once I started freelancing, I realized how important it was that I find ways to supplement my income. I googled Philadelphia Ballet School, came up with a contact list of training facilities in the region, and started sending my information out in search for work. Only a few schools responded and, of those, only one ended up working out. I was extremely excited to get in the studio, but I was also a bit nervous for my classes. My nerves had gotten the best of me and when the school director asked how much teaching experience I had, I lied and told them that I had three years. The honest truth was that the number three was just a little less than the number of classes I had taught. My untruth meant that I would have to show up with undeniable confidence and avoid any errors in instruction. Luckily, things worked out well. Perhaps, I was kind of a natural.

Adv. Ballet class w/Alaska Dance Theatre (My Students & Pianist)

Over the past 3 1/2 years, I have taught everywhere from local schools to pre-professional training academies and for companies that hold drop-in classes. Recently, I have added professional dancers to the mix; teaching company class for Eugene Ballet, the National Choreographers Initiative, and Koresh Dance Company. All of these have been incredible, but the most rewarding experience I have had in my short teaching career has been working for nearly four months as Interim Artistic Director for Alaska Dance Theatre.

Getting to spend so much time working with my students at ADT, I was able to see the fruits of our labor in working towards perfection. In almost four months of classes, the students that I worked with had exploded technically and grew a great deal as artists. My passion for dance and their trust in my instruction created this incredible atmosphere where you could feel a tingling energy the moment that each class started.

One of my students at Alaska Dance Theatre - When I arrived, her leg was at 90 degrees, knee was bent, & foot wasn't fully extended. This was taken two months later.

I always knew in my heart that I had talent as a teacher. Dance isn't just my vocation. It is my ultimate passion. I immerse nearly every moment of my day in the dance world. My approach to teaching is essentially my own version of (and a way better version than) No Child Left Behind. No matter talent, body-type, or level, I always try my best to make sure that every student receives a handful of corrections throughout class. The schools that I have taught at have ranged from recreational dance schools to academies that only work to train professional dancers. Here and there, I have heard recreational school owners tell me that the kids just want to have fun. My instant reaction to this is, "Dancing is a lot more fun when you can do it well." I am tough, but I am honest and I don't let dancers get away with wanting anything less than the best for themselves.

It is very sad that I will not be returning to Alaska for the upcoming semester (though I will be returning to teach at their summer intensive in June). But lost opportunities can lead to new ones, sometimes instantly. The last few weeks I was in Alaska, I learned that the famous Millennium Dance Complex franchise was opening a new school in Philadelphia. Not only is this institution bringing commercial dance classes to my city, it opened its' doors a block away from my apartment. It seemed too good to be true. So, I sent my information to the owners, was hired on the spot, and solidified my place on the faculty at Millennium. After returning home from Alaska to a week of Nutcracker and another week to adjust to being home, this Saturday I begin teaching an Advanced/Professional Ballet class and an Advanced Contemporary class at this renowned institution. I am very excited to have the opportunity to continue having a regular place to continue teaching and look forward to gaining more teaching opportunities in the near future! Cheers!

The Rules of Company Class

I started writing this post back in July while creating at the National Choreographers Initiative, but quickly got distracted by the intensity of the choreographic process. It has been awhile since I posted, as I have been swamped while working the past few weeks in Anchorage, Alaska. While it is a few months since I started writing this blog, I feel that this topic is very relevant and hasn't been addressed much. So, I'd like to share. Enjoy!

National Choreographers Initiative dancers taking company class onstage

Back in October, I posted the rules of taking open class while prepping to dance with Barak Ballet in Los Angeles. Nine months later, I am back in the LA area having a completely different experience working as a choreographer for the National Choreographers Initiative. Each of us four choreographers have been offered the opportunity to teach company class for the professionals that have been brought in for this 3-week choreographic laboratory. I love teaching, so I happily took the director up on her offer. Having spent my first hour and a half on the other side of company class and digesting my vast experience taking class in an array of company cultures through freelancing has inspired me to gather a list of general rules for company class from both the teacher's side and the professional's side.

- Company class is a time for dancers to warmup their bodies and to improve their technique. This should generally be on their own terms. Some days a dancer is exhausted and just needs to wake their body up. Other days, a dancer may not have much rehearsal or may be understudying much of the day. During these periods, a pro may use class to push their technique to the next level. Company class is not an equal effort day to day.

- Company class instructors should approach class from an external perspective. Warmup should be approached very differently than classes that would be given to academy students. Yes, professionals need to be pushed, corrected, and kept on task. But company class should be nothing about the instructor and all about the dancers.

- It can be really effective for an instructor to offer combinations that relate to the work that is being prepared for performance. This offers the dancers an opportunity to perfect challenging sequences in choreography.

- Expectations of a dancer in company class should be very individual. If there is not a developed relationship with a group of dancers, it can be rude to make assumptions about why a dancer is acting a certain way in class. If a dancer changes my combination, I am assuming that they are making an important decision for themselves. Back to the first rule in this post, some dancers may be tired or hurting. Company class is a vehicle for the rest of the rehearsal day. Their is often an assumption that dancers must take class like they are students until they retire. Do every combination 100%, even if it doesn't feel good on your body. Of course, it is the dancer's responsibility to remain reasonable about their choices. For instance, if my back is sore from my recent injury, I may not perform arabesques or attitudes derriere in adagio or grand battements at barre. I am not being lazy. I am being smart about my body and extending the length of my career by making an educated decision to leave a combination out.

          (My mom sneaked video taking company class at PNB circa 2008)

- Apprentices and less experienced professionals should approach company class like they approached school class. It takes time to develop an understanding of what your body needs. I didn't start altering my approach to company class until I had my first injury three years into my career. At that point, I recognized that overworking any position in arabesque may be more detrimental to my dancing than beneficial.

- Instructors should try their own combinations with the music to make sure that the tempo is comfortable, doable, and what they imagined the exercise to be. To speak and hear a combination versus executing a combination is a very different experience.

- If a dancer is entering class with an established company, they should ask other dancers if they can stand in any specific barre spot before claiming space. If there aren't many spots available and you are waiting for dancers to show up and claim their regular spot, wait away from the barre until the instructor walks in. Typically, somebody will point you in the right direction of a dancer's place that isn't in attendance.

- I strongly believe that those who teach class should still be taking class. I find that I teach much better when I am checking in with my body and reminding myself what it feels like to dance. 

- If you are going to leave class early, you should always give the teacher a wave as you leave. To walk up and thank the teacher directly, as you would at the end of class, interrupts the flow for those who are continuing with class. Quietly grab your stuff, walk to the door, and wait for the teacher to acknowledge your exit.

- Generally, new or auditioning dancers should pay attention to the hierarchy of individuals in a class. If a dancer has been with the company for many years or is a Principal dancer, let them dance where they want to dance in center. Some dancers could care less about hierarchy, but some are very particular about this order.

- It is the instructors job to be sensitive about when to push dancers in class. I am a dancer that always appreciates corrections. As I stated before, some dancers just want to warm up and focus on their technique in rehearsals. If an instructor feels that a dancer is being lazy, then they can bring that up outside of class and try to push a dancer to work harder. One common error I see is that instructors make judgements about dancers that they barely know. A dancer that is altering a combination or skipping a combination is not necessarily a lazy dancer. Only when their is a developed relationship between a teacher and a professional is it fair to make a judgement.

- Teachers that don't teach to their ego are generally the most respected teachers.

- Do offer corrections to technique, but be careful when offering corrections in style. Once a dancer becomes a professional, for instance, they are very unlikely to change certain parts of their dancing. For instance, if a dancer takes their pirouette preparation from a straight back leg, they may not be willing to execute this from a bent back leg. If they have figured out how to execute a beautiful pirouette from one position, why force them to change it unless it is for choreography that requires unison.

- This is a pet peeve of mine, not necessarily a definitive rule. It is merely a suggestion. Professionals generally don't need to be given specific combinations for plies and stretching. Plies should be about telling the body that class is beginning and stretching should be about limbering your own individual needs. If a dancer doesn't know how to execute these on their own, they probably shouldn't be professionals. I tend to shut down if I am given an extravagant plie combination.

- In most companies that I have danced, it is generally acceptable to wear what you wish for class. When dancers are forced to wear a dress code or to take off their warmups, I have found that dancers are generally treated with a lower level of respect in those workplaces. 

- Instructors should learn to trust the dancers that they are teaching in their decisions. There is not often enough trust in dancers to make their own decisions.

- This is kind of a given. It is more common for dancers to talk in company class, whether catching up with a friend or discussing choreography for a later rehearsal. While it is ok to chat here and there, don't be disrespectful and talk throughout all of center. Show the instructor respect and offer your attention for a majority of class.

- One rule that I am a big advocate of is to support your fellow dancers. If somebody executes a major feat, show your appreciation. I'm also one of the first people to start clapping to the beat when a dancer accidentally ends up having a solo across the floor. Comaraderie and support go a long way in a difficult and competitive career.

- It is acceptable to miss company class here and there if your body really needs a break. Don't make a habit of missing class. If there is an instructor whose class you don't mesh well with, try to find a way to take another class to warm up, like open or academy classes.

- Now that you are a professional, don't approach class like you know everything. There is always something else you can learn.

- While most unionized companies don't require dancers to attend company class, keep in mind that this is more of a technicality than a pass to miss class. Beyond that, a great deal of casting, especially for incoming choreographers, takes place during class.

Company class can be a blur (PNB company class onstage circa 2004)

 - This is my own personal rule. I feel that company class, whether for a classical or contemporary company, should still be a classical ballet class. Ballet is the basis for most technical dance. When company class starts turning into an instructor's interpretation of a mix of classical and contemporary styles, dancer technique will suffer. Keep class as class.

- Whether you like the class or not, always thank the instructor and pianist after class. It is in our culture to clap at the end of class. If you really loved class, hoot and holler. Walk up to the pianist and shake their hand. Walk up to the instructor and say thank you. Instructors appreciate applause and recognition as much as dancers do. Most of them still are or once were in your position. 

The rules of taking open class

I know that my last blog was a list post, but inspiration has struck and I feel that it is completely necessary to offer you another list. I was taking our morning warm-up class today at the Westside School of Ballet, where I am preparing a performance with Barak Ballet, and I found myself wildly frustrated. The annoyance I felt is actually not uncommon for me. In fact, I find myself needing to stifle my emotions often while taking open class. Most people that don't take open class don't understand what I am referring to. But any professional that has had to suffer through an open class knows exactly what I am talking about.

Open ballet classes are essentially the zoo of dance, but for people. I have taken open class in New York City, Philadelphia, Seattle, Los Angeles, Houston, DC, and beyond. So I have a pretty good take on this. There can be any combination of people taking class, from young students looking for an extra class to middle-age professionals (non-dance professionals) trying to stay in shape. Sometimes, you find tweens in class and, at other times, the dancers may be closer in age to your grandparents. Add a handful of professional dancers trying to stay in shape and you can only imagine the cast of characters that have arrived to partake in the art of ballet. For some reason, "dance-etiquette" is rarely taught in combination with the strict set of exercises that are given from barre to center and jumps . For this reason specifically, I feel that I need to speak up about the horrors faced and the lack of understanding and respect that occurs around the world daily in these classes open to all. When I teach class, I do my best to educate my students about an art that is borne out of respect. So, let's proceed and learn a lesson or two in the etiquette of ballet.

King Louis XIV

- Traditional ballet was founded by a king to be performed by those in the higher class. Royalty. There were many expectations in place when these royals interacted with each other and those considered to be below them. While things have changed as we have evolved out of this culture, there should still be a great sense of respect for those around you and their relationship to you in class.

- Look around the room. Yes, most everybody has paid an equal sum to partake in class. But each dancer is individual and has come from a different background. If a dancer looks like they really know what they are doing, they are likely professional dancers. They have put in a lot of time and effort, plus they have been highly trained in the rules of ballet. Don't assume that you have an equal standing in class as these professionals. Take a step back and take a lesson in humility. Watch these dancers and learn from them. Dance is an art that is passed on by spoken word and careful, visual observation. The next step down from the professionals are the regulars. They have put in their time at the studio, they have cultivated relationships with teachers, and they have a better understanding of the culture of their specific community. Next on the list are pre-professional students. These students are hopeful to achieve the status of professional. They are still learning the ins and outs of ballet and may not fully grasp the system that is commonly in place during a class. But they are on their way. Lastly, you have the drop-in students that come for fun and health. These dancers aren't necessarily interested in performing professionally or regularlity in attendance, but they stop by here and there to keep in shape and enjoy themselves.

- Show up to class before it begins. This doesn't mean you should walk in the door at the listed time. Arrive at least 10 minutes prior to the scheduled start time to sign in, pay your fee, and change. Here in Los Angeles, it is not uncommon for people to get stuck in heavy traffic and arrive late. This happens. But respect the fact that others showed up on time. If you are late, immediately look for a barre that is unused or the least full. DO NOT stand in front of somebody who has a direct view of themselves in the mirror. They probably arrived early to ensure that they could watch themselves and improve. If there are multiple barres in the room with two people on each side and one barre with 3 people on it, join one of the barres with fewer people on it and stand in the less comfortable spot. Whatever you do, if you are tardy, you should not place yourself somewhere that makes it harder for someone who arrived on time to work properly and effectively.

- It is perfectly fine to have a conversational moment with the teacher or your peers, but only for a short moment. Do not engage in loud, extended, or multiple conversations between combinations with the teacher. Also, if you have a question, by all means ask. But if you find yourself asking a question after nearly every combination, be more attentive and start watching other dancers. If you didn't catch a combination the first time in center, go in the second group. If you don't know how to execute a step properly, watch a dancer that looks like they know what they are doing. Ballet classes are a series of stops and starts to learn combinations, then execute them. Adding more time between the end of a combination and the start of the next one leaves time to get cold and to lose focus.

She does not belong in an advanced class

- Study the list of classes and ask the front desk questions before you enter a class at a level potentially higher than your ability. If you danced for years, but haven't taken class in five years, you should start in an intro or beginner class. Always take a level lower than you think you should before you consider moving up. There are constantly dancers taking the most advanced classes that do not belong in these classes. Not only are they a distraction to those that understand the intricacies of an advanced class, they are putting themselves in danger of potential injury. If you aren't sure where you should be placed, take the lower level classes and ask the teacher what they think after class. Also keep in mind that it takes a student years to progress to an intermediate, then advanced level.

- If you are not a regular or a professional, you should be weary of standing in the front or going first in groups. If you don't know the combination, you should definitely not go in the first group.

- Evenly space yourself in class. Do not stand in front of everybody while only moving forward halfway to the front. I always teach that the best way to respect others is to respect yourself. If you stand to close to a barre or person, you are making it more difficult for yourself to execute the combinations. You are offering yourself less of a chance to succeed. If you respect yourself by giving yourself enough space, you will also be respecting others because they won't be avoiding your limbs while they are dancing. Dance is based on ideals of respect. When you are at barre, if you are going to hit somebody, you need to turn the angle of your body away from the barre to the front and in towards the barre to the back. If you are doing center work, don't stand directly next to somebody. Stagger yourself. This means that one person stands forward and another stands back. If you are going from the corner, stand as close to the corner as possible in a triangle with the point towards the corner you are coming from or a square in two diagonals.

San Francisco Ballet dancers properly staggering themselves

 - If a professional or regular moves over, it doesn't necessarily mean that they are making space for you to move over as well. It likely means that you are too close to them and they are trying to gain more space to avoid hitting you.

- If you are not going to or unable to execute the combination in full, absolutely do not stand in front of anybody. It is disrespectful and prevents anybody behind you from fully executing the dance.

- One rule that is very important in ballet class is that you should never step in front of anybody. If somebody is standing in fifth position or B-plus, they are communicating that they are ready to perform. It is rude and disrespectful (and distracting) to step in front of or next to a dancer that has already expressed that they are going to do the combination.

- When a combination is over, it is proper to run forward, first, and to the side, second, as fast as possible to allow the next group of dancers to run into place. This will help you avoid collisions and keep class flowing.

- Most of the time, professionals are in class to stay in shape and improve their abilities. They are not in class as a hobby or to hang out. Think twice before you start talking to them. Chances are, if they don't approach you, they are working very hard and trying to concentrate on improving their art. If you want to start a conversation with one of these dancers, wait until class has ended.

- All dancers enjoy a compliment for executing a step exceptionally. If you absolutely feel the need to express your appreciation or awe, clap for that dancer or say something at the end of class. To constantly walk up to a dancer after each combination because you are impressed with them is a distraction and changes the compliment into a frustration.

- After class, a professional is likely running to rehearsal or a job. Class is a warmup for them. Feel free to engage them in conversation, but be aware that they are probably trying to leave the studio. Make sure that your conversations are appropriate and not asking too much. Don't corner a dancer and remain unaware that they are trying to gracefully exit the conversation. Most dancers are glad to offer helpful advice, but in small pieces.

- If I have one rule that is extremely important to maintain, it would be to remain aware of your spatial awareness. Not to be dramatic, but there is an epidemic of ignorance towards spatial awareness in open classes. Learning how to dance within a certain confined amount of space is just as important as learning how to point your feet, lift your legs, and develop a floating sense in your port de bras. Nearly every professional dancer starts their career in the corps de ballet. Twenty four swans can not exist on a stage without having an acute sense of what is happening around them. Learn how to look around your body while you are dancing. Use your peripheral vision. Don't battements your leg toward a person if they "may be" too close. If there is any chance that you could hit somebody, you are too close. You can practice spatial awareness by dancing in a small, confined room and avoiding hitting the walls with your limbs.

If more dancers understand this set of rules before entering an open class, you will be more likely to enjoy yourself and improve faster. While it is important for many professionals to take open class daily to maintain their technique, it is equally important that anybody who wants to partake has the option as well. Not only do these classes fund schools and companies, but attendance of non-professionals keep numbers up, which allows class to keep happening. Attending ballet classes also develops certain appreciations for those that won't necessarily have a career in dance. These "open-class" dancers come to performances, spread the word to those less educated in dance, and may even be inspired to donate to professional companies to keep them up and running. While it is important that open class remains open to all, it is also important that we begin to educate dancers in the codes of conduct and the finer details that are involved in a ballet class beyond the steps.

The Fine Line Between Submissive and Aggressive

As a student of dance, you are taught to be as submissive as possible. You know nothing and the teacher holds the key to all of the possibilities of your future. Of course, there are good teachers and bad teachers and you submissively hope that each teacher is going to give you all of the correct tools for success. Whether you get proper training or not, if you make it as a professional, it is likely that you lucked out on a great teacher or moved along to find a new, better teacher to show you the way. Once you become a professional, you are hired to follow the lead of a director and their artistic staff. Essentially, show up, take class, come to rehearsal, do your job, and go home. Don't question authority, corrections, or advice. As a pro, your role as dancer changes to a degree and you have a bit more say in how you approach your work. But for the most part you must still remain subservient, even as a fully grown adult. At what point does this mindset help one's career and when does it begin to hinder your pathway to success?

When I am teaching a class, I fully expect my students to hang on every word I say. I've been through rigorous training at world-class schools, I have danced on many great stages, and I have had lasting power that has allowed me to continue dancing for 10 years and counting. My students are more than welcome to ask questions. But when it comes to questioning my approach, knowledge, and corrections, I am not open to holding a debate about my reasoning with a student in class. What it comes down to is this. A student is somewhere between a blank canvas and an uncolored outline of a beautiful picture. They still need the tools to determine what colors to paint the picture, what brush to use, and the appropriate technique to combine these things into a piece of art. Very rarely does a student have a natural knack to complete the image without any instruction. For the most part, a student needs articulate guidance to help them along their path to success. This idea of blind following is a necessary aspect of a student's training.

Because many dancers begin their career at a young age, the concept of blind following tends to bleed over in the transition from high-level student to professional dancer. As a pro, it is assumed that you will be that blank canvas I mentioned above. The expectation of a dancer is to walk into a studio, have previous choreography/new work transferred to their body, and then to go onstage and do exactly what they have been told to do in rehearsal. For the most part, the dancer is performing under great influence of those that they are submissive towards. Typically, the only influence dancers have in the choreography comes from their personality and individual nuance. It is not common for a dancer to be given liberty to make largely personal choices in the studio or onstage.

Dancing "Gold" in "Sleeping Beauty" - SAB workshop '03

I often ask myself whether adult-professional dancer submission is due to the nature of the work or the nature of the training. There was great controversy back in 2009, when New York City Ballet's Ballet-Master-in-Chief, Peter Martins, was called out by a dancer that had been laid off and felt the need to speak about certain aspects of dancing for America's largest dance company. In this article, former dancer, Sophie Flack, stated "we’re referred to as kids by the administration. Some of the people they’re referring to are 35-year-old women with children." I often question why this happens. For many dancers, especially within New York City Ballet, they are hired as teenagers that have come through the School of American Ballet. Peter Martins often taught at the school when I attended in 2002-2003. When students come through training programs as teenagers and transition to professionals at a young age, the leadership still has the memory of the dancers as students. I feel it can be difficult to make the mental transition, on the artistic staff's side, from aspiring child to working adult. This is not always the case, as many dancers move on to dance with companies that didn't see this progression. But the idea that most dancers don't have a transition in the most common sense, like going from high school student to college student to intern to working professional, blurs the line between submissive, child-like attitudes and more aggressive, adult-like independent thinking.

It is quite difficult to work as a freelance dancer because of the submissive nature that is instilled in dancers at an early point in their training. At times, one can feel like they are fighting against their very own being. When a dancer chooses to freelance, they are finding their own work, promoting oneself, and looking out for their own needs. Much of this requires an aggressive streak. Dancers that remain submissive will find that they have trouble convincing employers that they are the right person for the job. The act of negotiating a contract is also an activity that requires the dancer to act more aggressively to have their needs met. Following these more aggressive behaviors, a dancer arrives in the studio and is expected to be completely submissive. To add to the confusion, if an issue, whether relating to comfort or safety, needs to be handled, it is the freelancers necessity to speak up for themselves. It can be quite confusing and cause problems if one can't determine when it is appropriate to be submissive or aggressive.

What I find works best for me is to get my most important needs written directly into a contract. This prevents any question if an uncomfortable situation arises and I need to address it. Responding aggressively to an action that is in opposition to expectations seems less aggressive if it is put down in writing prior to the issue. I find that it is easier to remain submissive in a studio if you respect the people you are working for and if they provide an atmosphere that is comfortable and safe. As it is often said, respect breeds respect.

To be completely honest, I find myself happiest in a studio where I feel that I can remain submissive. When I feel the need to step into a more aggressive role, it is usually because I feel disrespected or endangered. Moving away from my place of submission makes me horribly uncomfortable. Certain situations do arise that can push the boundaries of a dancers' reaction. For instance, if an employer makes last second changes to a rehearsal schedule, how is one supposed to react? What if rehearsals continue longer than they are supposed to? Or if the warm-up class is not what is expected or appropriate? What if there is a last minute costume change that could be potentially dangerous without any time to adjust? When is it appropriate to speak up (an aggressive act) and when is it time to let it slide (a submissive act)?

As I have already said, I am happiest in rehearsals where I can remain submissive. Unfortunately, working as a freelance artist, there will be times when one must stand up for themselves. This has been a challenge more than I would like to admit during my tenure as a freelancer. Dancing with an AGMA company, the dancers had a 40-something page contract that clarified every detail of expected conditions and terms listed. In the freelance world, there is no such thing. For the most part, you are at the will of whatever the employer asks you to do. If you don't feel safe and you choose to act submissively, you may be jeopardizing your own well-being. But if you respond aggressively, you may be upsetting the management and creating an insubordinate image. Essentially, it takes great judgement on the freelancers part to decide when it is appropriate to let something slide and when to speak up for oneself.

In the end, due to the nature of expected dancer submission, if one chooses to vocalize their concerns, they may risk souring the director's view of them and destroying potential for future work together. Whether the issue is small or large, an aggressive discussion (whether mild or severe) to resolve conflicts of interest can end in resolution or disaster. Unfortunately, I am not in a place to give advice on what is right and what is wrong. It is as personal as it gets. The only advice I can give would be to judge your relationship with the person you are bringing an issue up with, think about how important the problem is and how much it is affecting your well-being, and avoid entering into a discussion with anger and resentment. Keeping these things in mind, it will be easier to have a civil conversation. Essentially, be aggressive with a hint of submission. And if you see that the opposite party isn't responding well, have an exit plan. If the item is important, stand your ground. If it is anything less than important, consider taking a step back or compromising.

Many engagements come and go smoothly with both parties pleased with the work done. There are times that things don't go as planned. Working as a freelancer often means that an employer can request a dancer to do anything beyond the scope of their contract, which is often short and limited in language beyond pay, status, and expectation. Any dancer should be aware that they are expected to act submissively on most occasions. But as a freelancer, one can't be afraid to have aggressive moments. Work aggressively to find work and protect your comfort and needs, but keep a close gauge on managements responses and reactions to help maintain a good working relationship. In the end, if conditions are bad enough that you feel the need to play the aggressive card too often, it is likely that you won't be returning to dance for that employer again in the future.

Submissive dancers in the front - Aggressive dancer in the back