Post #7: Response to Bawling at the Ballet

First of all, to Sydney, do not even call your reaction to Anastasia “bizarre” at all, anyone who watches that beautiful of a performance and doesn’t cry is the bizarre one! I too have had visceral reactions to art I’ve seen, whether it is art at a museum, music I listen to, or performances I watch. I similarly have been a dancer all my life, and whenever I watch ballet performances or any sort of dance performance it definitely hits hard. The emotion conveyed through silent ballets is one of the most elegant and exquisite things to me, because body language and facial expressions become so important, and you feel connected with the characters on stage.
The very first time I ever saw a professional ballet performance, I was taken aback by how much it emotionally affected me, and honestly was a little bit confused. I was only 10 at the time, and my godmother took me to see the New York City Ballet. I honestly do not even remember what the performance was called, what show it was, or what the characters were named. But I do remember sitting in my seat, eyes glued to the stage the whole performance, in awe of the dancers on the stage. They danced all over the stage so gracefully, performing turns and jumps, some of which young me had never seen before, and some of which I actually was learning in my ballet classes.
The part that stood out the most to me was when all the female dancers were lined up diagonally across the stage, and while holding onto the hands of their male dancer counterparts, slid slowly and gracefully into their right splits. This moment of the performance was short, but has lived in my head forever. At the time of me attending that show, I had just successfully gotten all three of my splits at my dance studio (left, right, and center). I was so proud of myself for this accomplishment, and to see the professional dancers do the same splits I had just learned myself was surreal. In that moment, I felt like I too could be a professional dancer.
This moment was so inspiring to me, the second I walked out of the theater and the trance of the performance was over, I started crying. My godmother was so concerned and asked me what was wrong, but I couldn’t put it into words. I wasn’t upset, and I wasn’t angry, and at that young age I didn’t really understand what else I could be crying about. I did not understand the concept of happy tears, or even just expressing non-negative emotion physically. I just told my godmother, “They were just so pretty and perfect, it was so cool and I miss it already!”
Ever since then, I have been a sucker for performances. I’ve seen the New York City Ballet four or five times since that moment when I was 10, and share a similar experience to Sydney of just sitting silently in my seat, tears flowing down my face because of how beautiful and inspiring it is to me. Although I do not wish to be a professional dancer like my 10 year old self, I still try to keep dance in my life whether it be through taking classes at my studio while I am home, attending performances where I can find them, or even taking dance history classes to understand the art form which has given me so much happiness throughout my life. I have physical reactions to dance every time, whether it’s tears of beauty due to professional dancers, smiling so hard my face hurts when my friends take the stage, or cheering loudly when someone does an amazing move or trick. I think it is beautiful that art can affect us so much, even if we are not involved and only onlookers. Being a bystander to art can be as beautiful to a creator, because we experience the same feelings and are connected on an emotional level, even for a short while.