Shirabyoshi Posted July 25, 2012 Share Posted July 25, 2012 Hello. My name is Shirabyoshi; and I'll be your ignorant newbie this week. When I was three or four years old I liked to prance about the garden in a sparkly pink tutu stitched just for me by the seamstresses of an Italian lingerie company; but when at five or six I was asked if I would like to take ballet lessons, it seemed as though it would be too much like hard work, so I declined. In retrospect this may not have been one of my most brilliant decisions. Still, I was madly in love with the Royal Ballet performance I'd just seen on television, and I was madly in love with the photographs of Dame Margot Fonteyn in a battered secondhand copy of her autobiography I'd appropriated as my own, so the seeds were sown. They began to flower on the 9th of this month, and have been pushing up roses and lilacs (Sleeping Beauty) and daisies (Giselle) and rustic wildflowers (La fille mal gardee) and exotic hothouse blooms (La Bayadère) ever since. So far I like: The English style, whatever that means today. The Ashton style, whatever that used to be. Dame Margot. Marianela Nuñez. Yuhui Choe. Zenaida Yanowsky. Marie-Agnès Gillot. Alicia Alonso. Petipa. Story ballets. Pomp and circumstance. Lyrical, fluently expressive port-de-bras. Will Tuckett and his Giant Clogs of Doom. So far I'm fairly certain I don't like: Banana feet. Hyper-extended knees. Windmill arms. Wayne MacGregor. So far I know: I love ballet. So far I don't know: Anything else. I hope that all of you (well, let's be realistic, some of you) in this most delightful and civilised place will kindly consent to be my teachers. Quote Link to comment
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