A Night at the Ballet
A performance of Sleeping Beauty reawakens my appreciation of dance.
Months ago a friend alerted a group of us to the ticket release for La Belle au Bois Dormant (Sleeping Beauty) at the Opéra Bastille. It had been years since I had seen a ballet and I knew I should jump at this chance. Ballet seems to be everywhere these days, infiltrating popular culture from “ballet core” outfits to “ballet fit” workout classes. I, myself, was sucked into one of these classes and let’s just say, ballet is not like riding a bicycle. My years of childhood lessons did not transfer to this class as a 30 year old. However, as I looked around the studio, I saw women of all ages, shapes, and sizes gracefully executing the steps, fulfilling the common dream of becoming a ballerina at long last. While I grew up wanting to become a painter, I did love ballet as a girl and find the two art forms inextricably linked.
The evening for Sleeping Beauty finally arrived last weekend and I was delightfully surprised. With a run time of over 3 hours, we discussed before it began that we might want to leave during the SECOND intermission, but as the dancers floated across the stage I found myself entranced. I expressed to my friends that I felt, all at once, like I could watch them dance forever, and also that I was bored. Perhaps I was hypnotized by their seamless movement but we decided we couldn’t leave. We were locked in our seats for the full performance and it was absolutely worth it (as all great art is).
I couldn’t help but to find myself reminiscing about some of the most famous artworks inspired by dance. Of course, Edgar Degas was at the forefront in my mind during this Parisian night at the ballet. As the fées des lilas presented their gifts of movement to the baby Aurora, I found parallels in Degas’ Dancers in Blue. I could imagine the dancers just off stage, awaiting their chance to flit into the spotlight, their tutus bouncing around their knees as they transformed from separate beings into one, synchronized entity.
The fairies continued their tableau, weaving themselves in and out of circles reminding me of another 1910 painting in a completely different style, Matisse’s Dance. The energy and unnatural balance displayed in this fauvist work aligned with the mesmeric dance en pointe.
In the second act, as the guests of the prince’s hunting party began to couple up and swirl around each other I considered the works of Auguste Renoir, like Dance at Bougival. Had Aurora slept for another 100 years, the guests would undoubtedly mirror the two in this painting, clinging to each other as they whirl across the floor.
The dazzling costumes and simple, yet powerful effects submerged the entire audience into this work of live art in both dance and music. As the violins raced and the harp sent us into a dreamstate, the pirouettes of the ballerinas and leaps of the ballerinos reminded me what a gift it is to see masterful art at work. The graceful sweep of the dancers arms, not unlike that of a paintbrush transporting us into their world and sharing their story wordlessly. The experience left me impressed and unsurprised at the lasting grasp ballet has held on our culture, and reminded me of the many beautiful things in life that we should be celebrating.
Excellent!
Another wonderful piece, Isabel. However, it was part way through your piece when I questioned where the mention of the seven dwarfs or reference to beast was, that I realised that I have never seen Sleeping Beauty.
The intersectionality of traditional canvas art and dance art were so beautifully explored. Furthermore, your insight into how lasting ballet has been on our culture was an eye opener. It reminded me of the tutus girls wore in high school on non-school uniform day.
Excellent work, as always!