Rebelling Against Perfection
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Rebelling Against Perfection
On healing through the very practice that harmed you.
There’s this scene in Center Stage that’s been imprinted in my memory since I first saw the film in 2000. When one of the dancers Maureen is confronted about her bulimia by her boyfriend, she delivers one of the most famous lines in dance film history, “I am the best goddamn dancer in the American Ballet Academy. Who the hell are you? Nobody.”
While Maureen’s narrow-mindedness is obviously a result of her eating disorder, her words sting because there is an uncomfortable truth to them—it’s the guiding attitude of competitive dance. Like any artistic field, dance is cutthroat in the pursuit of perfection. Arguably no discipline exemplifies this perfection like ballet, whose foundational principle is control. The body must be contorted into “perfect” alignment with a straight line drawn the tip of your head to the root of your spine. Limbs must be long and lean to create elongated lines. Every finger must be just right. Your face must never express pain, even if your feet are bleeding.
This emphasis on precision, by nature, excludes. In Center Stage, Zoe Saldana’s character Gina will never be a principle dancer because she’s Black (ironically, Zoe Saldana was one of the few actors with actual dance experience in the film). Another dancer is let go from the company because she’s too fat (she’s not). When I started dancing at age 15 (too late by dance standards), I quickly realized I didn’t have the body for ballet. No matter how much I tried to lengthen my limbs, they would only stretch so far. Thankfully I was at an art’s high school that was a kind of utopia of acceptance. Instead of trying to get a seat at the table, I leaned into dance forms that suited my body—contemporary and jazz.
I was critiqued on my technique but I never experienced the kind of traumatic criticisms that are stereotypical of ballet. I took private ballet classes outside of the safe space of my high school but I told myself I was just there for strength-building and didn’t let myself absorb the harsh words of my strict ballet teacher. Instead, I focused my energy on the expressive choreography I learned from fellow students at school (it was so inclusive students did a lot of the choreography for our dance shows).
I didn’t realize how rare my experience was until I went to Angela Trimbur’s balletcore class at New York City Center. Ever since reading this NYT profile on her inclusive approach to dance, I’ve been trying to get tickets to this class. I had a feeling it would be a cathartic experience, but I didn’t realize just how much.
When she first came into the room, she cosplayed as a ballet company’s artistic director (image above). The intent was for us to feel like we’re in a ballet company, but turned on its head. The barre warm-up to Sam Smith’s Unholy combined traditional tendu’s with us swinging under the barre like a monkey and using its end like a pole to grind. Our middle fingers were to be kept slightly separated from the rest, as if to subtly say ‘fuck you’ to ballet, or better yet, used to hold our fake cigarettes. Instead of the anxiety-inducing cross-the-floors of my adolescence, here we’re told to walk across the room like an uptight dancer who needs to take a shit.
Once we started to come out of our shells, like we were, as Trimbur described, “peeping out of our tight butt holes for the first time,” it was time for the choreography—which was inspired by the epic dance number at the end of Center Stage. The first half of the piece—set to a quintessential Tchaikovsky piece from The Nutcracker—we’re supposed to be ballerinas longing to break free. When the music shifts to Jamiroquai’s Canned Heat, we let go of ballet’s rigid rules and dance, not for aesthetics, but for joy.
Revolting against the exclusionary perfectionism that ballet represents feels especially liberating as a full-grown adult. As much as people like to point to the rise of body positivity, representation politics and affirmative action as evidence that we’re becoming a more inclusive society, the reality is we still don’t feel like we’re enough. From looking around the studio, I think this kind of rebellion against ballet acted as a restitution for those who were maybe scarred by ballet growing up. Even for me, despite the privilege of having dance largely be an inclusive space, the class felt revolutionary. It was while jumping like a kid—my knees not cushioning my land like they used to but my smile impossible to contain—I realized I’ll never reach my current goal of embodiment so long as I strive for perfection. The two are incompatible.
Watching Center Stage as a young girl, I took away the deceptive idea that striving for excellence and impeccable beauty will make me happy. The problem with the pursuit of perfectionism is—like that continuous pirouette in the movie’s finale—it’s never-ending. It’s never enough. At the end of our dance class, we cooled down to Mandy Moore’s I Wanna Be With You (another Center Stage classic), and were told to freestyle across the room. “No one’s watching,” she assured us. At first I was skeptical, but once we started twirling around the space, she was right. After such a therapeutic class, we were just in our bodies, moving not to look perfect, but to feel free.
Best,
Anna
Reading 📖
📚 Why you should divide life into semesters.
🗳 The rise of the millennial candidate/millennial ambition psycho.
🎉 I feel like us freelance writers need to start throwing rejection parties.
💯 What Wirecutter’s demise says about product reviews.
📦 Observations of relationships from New York City movers.
🥩 Everyone’s talking about girl dinner, but what is boy dinner?
🛒 On the soundtrack at CVS.
Watching 📺
I re-watched Center Stage after the class reminded me of the amazing soundtrack. 23 years later and its just as good as I remember it. If you’re a fan like me, check out Vulture’s comprehensive oral history of the film.
Listening 🎧
How does trauma impact the body? Bessel van den Kolk has devoted his life to answering this question (you’ve probably heard of him for his book, The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind and Body in the Healing of Trauma).
We’re quick to talk about our trauma, in a culture where therapy speak has become our daily vernacular, but some experiences imprint themselves on our bodies in ways that aren’t accessible by language. In this conversation with Krista Tippett (here’s a shorter version), Kolk talks about what studying trauma has revealed about the complexity of memory, our need for others and how our brains take care of our bodies. They discuss how disembodied western societies are compared to other cultures around the world, and the danger of not releasing our stress hormones when they arise.
I especially love the discussion of how trauma disconnects us from the primal part of our brain:
“Eating, peeing, pooping and breathing—these are foundational things, all of which go wrong when you get traumatized. The most elementary body functions go awry when you’re terrified. Trauma treatment starts at the foundation of a body that can sleep, a body that can rest, a body that feels safe.”
And this:
“Victims are members of society whose problems represent the memory of suffering, rage and pain in a world that longs to forget.”
Snacking 🍌
Since I was in midtown for this dance class, I decided to try the viral chicken caesar wrap from Lenwich. Unfortunately it was so hot that by the time I got the sandwich to Central Park, the croutons and lettuce inside were soggy. But the amount of parm and dressing made it so creamy.
Afterwards I tried to get banana pudding from Magnolia but they were sold out! I spotted four giant tubs of pudding but learned they were for the next day. Luckily, that night, I discovered Trader Joe’s makes a banana pudding ice cream. I love how it has caramel swirled in.
The other day when I was on the UES, I passed by a Magnolia location I’ve never been to and finally got my fix. They told me they keep those giant tubs out for a few hours before portioning into cups so it’s the perfect consistency. Also not a huge fan of their cupcakes but had to try the banana cupcake with chocolate frosting, and it was 💯 .
On the banana note, I’m excited to try Maja’s banana bread overnight oats for breakfast and Vacation’s banana-scented sunscreen has been saving me from the hot sun this week.