Ballet dancing and the study of Torah

By Sheila Orysiek

Sheila Orysiek
Sheila Orysiek

SAN DIEGO –For over forty years of my life I began my day (6 days a week) with a morning ballet class. Learning to dance is only part of the matrix that one learns in such a class and my life was changed by that experience. I often feel like a survivor of “The Ballet Wars.”

In a recent meeting of our Torah Study group, the Rabbi in discussing the Korach Rebellion against Moses, asked us to consider how one responds to physical and emotional challenges. Knowing my background as a dancer, she posed a question directly to me: how would it affect you, how would you feel and respond if a beautiful dancer showed up for class – her technique and style far outclassing yours?

Implicit in the question were the following possible responses: feelings of intimidation, despair, envy, anger – or a mix of all the above.

My answer, the result of those many years in ballet class, was short: “If you can’t handle that situation, you don’t belong in ballet class.” Implicit in my answer was the fact that one either has gained the wherewithal to survive – even benefit from – challenging circumstances or one leaves the field.

The scenario posed by the Rabbi reminded me of the day when just such a challenge occurred. One morning an entire class of (about 15) professional level dancers decided to boycott the studio where they regularly studied and came instead to the class I took (also professional level). The “invading” group contained several beautiful dancers – all of them upset and angry at having lost their place at the “other” studio. In their distress they did not pay attention to the usual protocols of behavior expected in ballet class.   Thus, when work at the barre was completed and the class moved into the center for “centre work” – they automatically surged toward the front ignoring the regular members of the class.

Generally speaking, unless specifically placed by the teacher, each dancer finds a spot for her/himself, facing the mirror, in the center of the room. It usually works out to four or five lines deep, four to five dancers in each line stretched across the studio dance space. Standing in the front row is not an “honor” but a responsibility. Since everyone else is behind, it is necessary that the dancers in the first row know the work, remember the dance sequence, stay with the music, and otherwise be as correct as possible. If the dancers in the front row make an error, it will distract the entire class. Not a good thing! If a dancer is not up to the standard, the teacher will usually ask the dancer to step back.

In this class, I and four other dancers shared the front row. As the “invaders” surged toward the front, three of the regular class members dropped back. That left me and one other of my classmates, Anne, in the front row. At the crucial moment of decision Anne and I exchanged glances, and with silent mutual understanding made the decision to stand our ground and not yield our place.

Technically, Anne and I could match the “invaders” though we could never look as beautiful as they. No matter – stand our ground we did. As class proceeded the “invaders” gradually – silently – conceded that we had a “right” to our place in the front line. Our feet were not as beautifully shaped, our legs not quite as high – but we were up to the technical challenge and then some.

The reward was not only the new respect we saw in the eyes of the “invaders,” but the respect we had gained within. When class finished, Anne and I walked into the dressing room and we glanced at one another and smiled. There were also smiles on the faces of our regular classmates. We had given them back a sense of self respect.

This was a wonderful life lesson for me. Meeting a challenge doesn’t have to be a noisy thing – it can be a very quiet inner thing. Something to remember when other challenges appear. But the lesson doesn’t end there. It is also about how the challenge is presented. Anne and I were responding to the rude behavior of the “invaders.” Normally, a dancer new to the class will stand in the back row until others see and accept that the newcomer has earned a place in the front line.

And, then, the most important lesson of all: If someone comes along from whom one can truly learn, it would be foolish not to stand behind them so that perhaps a day will come when one can stand beside them. It has been my experience that the truly beautiful dancers are also careful about observing certain standards of behavior. They have no need to “invade.”

Perhaps if Korach had not confronted Moses or fomented a rebellion, but had instead asked to be taught by Moses and then offered to help lead the people, his fate would have been quite different.
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Orysiek is a freelance writer who specializes in arts and literature.  You may comment to sheila.orysiek@sdjewishworld.com or post your comment on this website, provided that the comment is civil and that you identify yourself by full name and city and state of residence.