Monday, September 24, 2007

September 24 - Day 7

My ballet professor, Larissa Dmitriebna can only be described as the Russian version of Frau Farbissina from the Austin Powers movies with a ferocious scowl, pounds of make-up and long graying hair pulled so tight into a bun that it provides an automatic face lift and perpetual look of shock. We have been attempting to guess her age since she has been around for decades and was the instructor to our teachers when they were students. According to them she was ancient even then. She was the prima Ballerina in the Bolsoi Ballet for many, many years before retiring to teach at MXAT. She is practically an institution in Russia and as such demands perfection. She speaks no English and we have no translator for that class so she simply screams at us in Russian while gracefully gliding across the floor, demonstrating whatever sadistic pose she has lined up next. It is no secret that I have a complete and utter lack of grace and I have, on more than one occasion, recounted the tales of how my ballet teacher at Northern would simply place her hand on my shoulder while I attempted a position and shake her head in disbelief. Larissa doesn’t even seem to notice. On our first day in class she had us doing insane bar work and partner exercises like the one in which Daniel, my 5 foot 2 inch partner, was throwing me up in the air as I tried my best to maintain an arabesque. She seems to believe that we all know how to dance and has no problem coming up behind someone to yank their leg up over their head. It is crazy and parts of my body that I didn’t even know existed are now throbbing in the most unnatural of ways. It is a blast. A cruel and painful blast but a blast none the less. Larissa, for all of her initial intimidation factor is hilarious. When she begins to move she completely transforms and a smile so large it almost looks clownish spreads across her face. She gets giddy and childlike, and it is impossible not to she how stunning she must have been performing pirouette after pirouette on the Bolshoi stage all those years ago. So for now I will suck up my sore rear-end and hope to dear god it gets easier with time because I have a feeling we are going to be amazing in the end.