Ballet British Columbia

Going before an audience is to ask for attention and to be exposed to the audience knowing you have asked for it. A solo is to be at the centre of attention, at once the most important and the most vulnerable human in that place at that moment. It is an excruciatingly desirable and utterly terrifying thing. The dancer--deliberately sacrificing almost an entire life to learning to dance, and almost all energy to being allowed to dance--may tremble and sicken with fear before every performance. And then, on stage lose that fear and feel radiant exultation.

In March, an audience saw for the first time a preview of Act 1 of Alleyne's Streetcar. Minutes before the 7:30 curtain, dancers began to drift onstage in their costumes. The Kim Nielsen painted backdrop, an immense circular staircase and a larger-than-life size bed were all in place. On stage, lighting designer Gerald King double-checked the color gels and the lighting focus. Stagehands moved various set pieces and props into place.

As the audience took its seats, the dancers began to leave the stage, grouping themselves loosely in the wings in preparation for their various entrances. They wished one another "merde," "shit" in French and a traditional stage blessing. It is considered dangerous to be told "good luck" in a theatre; superstition insists the wish will bring the opposite. Actors generally tell one another to "break a leg," but in ballet, people really do break legs. So dancers wish one another shit. In French.

That evening I watched the performance from the audience and less than a minute after the curtain was up, I found myself holding my breath. But the dancers were brilliant. Real professionals reaching deep into their inner reserves of energy. There was no appearance of the tiredness I saw in them only minutes before. There was no sense of uncertainty, awkwardness or mechanical technique. There was no sense of them as separate figures merely performing the same movements they learned in the rehearsal studio.

They danced together, moving as a group, a community of individuals whose bodies, hearts and minds were simultaneously and with understanding being freely devoted to the same ends. They danced with love and a full giving of themselves to the dance. An opening of themselves to it; a belief in it; and a desire to be worthy of what they have been learning.

By the end of the act, it has become apparent that Streetcar has the potential to be one of Ballet British Columbia's triumphs. The performance is testament to the artistry of the individual dancers, the communal feeling of the company and the ability of the dancers to work together for a common vision. In the end the success of the performance is based on a team effort. The company did it, every one of them, together.

As the curtain rises, the dancers move forward as the applause mounts. They acknowledge it with dignity and graciousness. Finally, a murmur arises from the other side of the curtain as the house lights go up. The dancers move toward the dressing rooms, putting this performance irrevocably into the past. The performance is to be thought about, talked about, written about, but never experienced in itself again. Only an instant later, it is already in the past.

Sample 5