The "Pretty" Trap of Adult Ballet
Is this pretty? Or a moment of uniqueness and experimenting?
Ballet has been a tremendous rescue to my whole life. I would go as far as to say that it saved me from depression, from stressing out about my body, from living in a city that I didn’t love, and working in a job that wasn’t a good fit.
And from so many conversations with so many of you all around the world, I know that you are feeling similar effects, too. That the healing and joy that ballet has brought into your lives is enormous and the aspirations and ambitions that it has awoken cannot be celebrated enough.
I keep saying that there are so many advantages of starting ballet later in life, and one of them is that you can enter and practice it on your own terms. YOU get to decide when you start, how many classes you take, which teachers you want to work with, and what you want to get out of it. In a way, as adults, we are also much less likely to experience the still lingering toxicity and pressures of a pre-professional environment that can wreak havoc on a soul. (I mean, ok fair point, we come with our own havocs.)
So to a large extent, we are free to go about ballet as we like. We have a say. We usually don’t get body shamed from teachers and we’re not expected to fit in. We can wear our own colors and styles. We can skip class if we need to, or take three in a row.
In other words: We get the space to be the unique person we are, with our unique strengths, quirks, and flaws.
And yet, in this seemingly empowered adult ballet world, I see a bit of a shade. Something I am definitely not over, and a bit challenged to speak about:
“Pretty”.
The still dominant narrative that ballet needs to look pretty. That a tutu needs to be pretty. That a ballerina needs to look pretty. That a leo-and-pointe-shoe-pic needs to look pretty.
And I get it. Many of us coming to ballet late actually CRAVE “pretty”. We live in a world that often expects women to man up, power through, and be a bit practical about their demeanour, poise, wardrobe, and appearance - if they want to juggle it all. So there is this longing for the opposite, and that’s exactly why the quiet and soft aesthetics of ballet speak to us so much. The century-old traditions, rituals, and manners are intriguing in their changelessness. The hand gestures, the hunch of a smile, the pink, the white, the shiny pointe shoes….it’s so soothing and such a welcome change from the loud, bright, messy, and ugly outside world.
And I don’t have an issue with that.
The issue comes when pretty becomes a trap. When it becomes so dominant that it blocks uniqueness, disempowers diversity, and eliminates the depth and messiness of the human experience. When it becomes a nice-to-look-at, shallow sugar coating that covers up any misfits and impurities.
Honestly, I’ve started to cringe and feel a vague sense of uneasiness when I hear the word “pretty”. I definitely don’t believe in “pretty”’s innocence any more. (If something seems innocent, you can almost always be sure that there is a big, invisible toxic part to it.) “Pretty” is dangerously close to:
Fragile
Outside appearance
White
Obedient
Perfect
Numb
Uniform
Fitting in
Not speaking up
Not asking questions
People-pleasing
Denying needs and pain
Always smiling
As a sidenote, or actually more main than side, I believe that the imperative of “pretty” is why ballet is having such a hard time with current Black Lives Matter events, why it’s stil struggling with queerness among ballerinas, or dancers with disabilities. When all you have and want is “pretty”, there is no space for intense colors, for mismatch and friction, for unique (dis-)abilities, for less hierarchical and more self-governing/learning organisations.
P.S. To me “beautiful” is the older sister of “pretty”. Yes, beautiful implies more maturity, more strength, more substance - but if we’re not careful, it can still be a quite one-dimensional deal.
P.P.S. “Pretty” often goes hand in hand with perfectionism, beating yourself up, harsh self-criticism, and judging others. Because when “pretty” is the reference, well guess how you will cope when things are not pretty. I would even say that “pretty” shapes the way you train. “Pretty” will not allow for much weird-looking experimentation, it’s the enemy of mistakes, of messy beginnings, of sweaty shorts, of falling and tumbling. “Pretty” calls for perfect execution in pretty skirts, with no sweatmarks of course. The problem is that this is not how learning works.
So why I am riding these semantics so much and taking many hours to write and edit this article?
Because I think that as adult ballet students and dancers we are in a unique and powerful position to change the ballet narrative - but if we fall into the trap of “pretty”, this opportunity can easily be missed.
Because we are older, more mature, and operating on our own money, we can co-create ballet environments that are much more diverse, real, inclusive, equal, interesting, and healthy than everything that still seeps out from many traditional environments. We can co-create something that is way more alive than “pretty”. Something exciting, profound, discomforting, deep, full, and wild.
But how do we do that? And isn’t it enough that adult ballet studios are usually quite welcoming spaces?
I think it starts with little steps and, yes, semantics. Here are a few ideas:
I think that a good start is to look at the way we use terms like “pretty”, “cute”, “beautiful”. What kind of behavior, look, social media posts, voices do these terms favor, incentivize, include?
Look at how you compliment others. Instead of saying someone/-thing looks pretty, can you add specificity that brings out that person’s uniqueness, boldness, self-love, self-expression, strength, the way she bravely takes up space?
Instagram. “Pretty” Central, haha. Ok my pet peeve #cutepointeshoepictures. So: Does my grid really have to look like a f***ing art gallery (not my words, quoting Gary V here, but could be mine :-))? Do I really want to post this “pretty” thing, or am I just afraid to post something that is more raw, more edgy, more my true self? What about accounts that I follow and posts that i like - do I give them my attention because I really get something out of them? Or is it that they’re somehow comforting, safe, not threatening the status quo? Can I actively seek out more discomforting ballet voices that challenge me, make me think and grow? Don’t forget that a social media algorithm will present you with what you teach it. Also - as above - observe and notice how you comment on posts. Can you make it more specific, showing that you celebrate uniqueness, braveness, the willingness to make mistakes, and strength - vs. only catering to prettiness?
Observe how you train, in class and outside of it. In the podcast episode that we did together, my teacher Evelyn Hart mentioned in passing that the way she teaches turnout may even look weird to an outside observer. Meaning, until you truly get it, you will have to go through weird pathways to make your body understand. It won’t look pretty. Can you allow yourself to not look pretty in class and workout sessions?
Also, how do you contribute to your local ballet environment? Do you actively approach newcomers, make them feel welcome, give them a smile? Do you go and speak with the teacher, or studio owner, when you have questions, concerns, or ideas? Do you catch yourself being judgemental of how others look, dress, or do class? What would it take to drop these judgement and make peace?
To be clear: This is not a plea to discard and throw out “pretty” and its siblings. Nor to eliminate the whole nature of ballet. It’s totally ok to still like “pretty”. To dress pretty. To enjoy cute pointe shoes. To do reverences, to honor century-old traditions and etiquette. Rather, I am in favor of throwing out our unexamined ideas of pretty and the consequences they may have on our and others’ ballet experience and progress. It’s about dismantling the dominance of “pretty” and create an invigorating co-existence with “everything else, ugly and wild included”.
If we can reflect and take these steps, everyone in their own way, on their own pace, the healing power of ballet can become limitless. It can become the powerful practice that it has the potential to be, a true meditation that can have true impact on you as a dancer and from there on the world.
Let’s challenge “pretty” so we can become free to create much more than that.
Have you ever fallen into the pretty trip? In what way has it been limiting to you? Or maybe you don’t see the issue at all? Feel free to share your thoughts!